"I'm here to examine the Creevy boy's camera," Severus had been summoned to the hospital first thing in the morning.

"Oh, good!" Pomfrey said.

His eyes drifted to find Hermione's bed empty, then found her curled up looking very much like a cat at the foot of Potter's bed, sleeping contentedly, her head resting on an open book. Potter still had his glasses on despite being asleep as well, a book upturned in his lap, that he'd probably dropped after falling asleep. Between the two of them he saw several open books, and imagined they were reading and exchanging thoughts well into the night. He ignored the impulse that wanted to remind Potter that Hermione was not his side-kick as well as the part of him that wanted to chastise Hermione for behaving like Potter's faithful little lap cat.

"Do you think they might have tampered with it in an attempt to investigate it?" he pointed at the two in a whisper.

"No, I kept in my office for that reason," she whispered back. "Looks like they were preoccupied with homework. Unless she's listening in..."

"No." She would never let him catch her curled up at Potter's feet, she was definitely asleep. Though he doubted those books were meant for homework. He turned his attention to the boy's camera to find the inside of it, film, the chamber, everything melted. How the hell-?

His thoughts were interrupted by a particularly panicked yowl, and he found the source covering her mouth, hair standing on end and perched back on her own bed clumsily putting a book back on the precarious pile, knocking the entire stack to the floor. Potter bolted up and stared at Hermione, throwing his own book to the ground.

"Whazzamatter?" Potter asked groggily, oblivious to him and Pomfrey.

Hermione's tail flicked as she tried to tidy up the books and her response was a series of squeaks before covering her mouth again.

"Why, good morning to you, too, Hermione," he glared at her. "It simply warms my heart to know how happy you are to see me."

Hermione's ears fell and tail stopped twitching in favour of curling around her in an upright fetal position. He felt a little guilt at his words when all he could see was her yellow and green eyes peaking out from under her bushy hair and staring at him in a mixture of guilt, sadness and anxiety that he did not need her cat-like features to telegraph for him. It was truly beginning to feel to him that whenever he made progress with Hermione, Potter was there to undo it immediately.

"I'll better be able to examine the camera in my office," he told Pomfrey. "I'll let you know what I find."

He and Hermione shared one more look and her eyes fell to a far corner of the room. She knew exactly what she did wrong, even with her brain so altered she knew it. She made no attempt to speak to him. He sighed and left the wing without further word.

Severus poured over volumes from his personal collection trying to figure out what could both paralyze and melt the inside of a camera directed at it. There were scorch marks by Mrs Norris...maybe it's image...that theory needed work. He mused on it for a bit. An image that scorches. Plenty of monsters and spirits fit that while not fitting other criteria. Certain spells have collateral damage, but none of the petrification ones he was aware of.

He hoped the Creevy boy wasn't involved in Hermione's little project and looking to photograph whatever it was. Creevy...was she close to the boy? He did see the two of them together beyond that day she asked to borrow his camera. If they were friends maybe he shouldn't have been so hard on her...what was her great crime? Falling asleep while reading? Behaving like a cat when her brain had been altered to resemble one? He thought back to those mismatched eyes staring at him...

No, he had to focus. Now that students were being attacked, they had to redouble their efforts. Until the mandrakes matured, this was all he could do. If he figured it out before the next victim, they could vanquish the monster and a few mere months off the Creevy boy's life would be the only casualty. Hermione and Potter wouldn't get themselves killed in their attempts to figure it out. And she couldn't be a victim for the creature...though students found it easy enough to attack her while he was otherwise occupied...

It warms my heart to know how happy you are to see me?! Why did I have to say that? No, focus! You'll see her tonight...everything will be fine... it's not as if you went and knowingly made things hard for her or anything...focus! He continued his search through his volumes, no dark spells seemed to match what he found. The boy's body offered no more evidence, at a glance he could tell there'd be no physical evidence. A melted film chamber and fused film was all he had to work with.

Could he magically restore the film? That could work...or that could destroy the evidence...If he was unable to restore the film for whatever reason, the new magic practised on the camera could tamper with the evidence and put him back on square one.

Mahoukatoro couldn't accept her full-time, he knew that was a possibility, and even if Yamato said yes, Hermione couldn't be transferred in her state. He didn't want her in Japan all year anyway, but if Potter would forever bring danger with him, Severus had to try. So that was out. Given that he failed to discuss it with both Hermione and Dumbledore, it might not be all bad he couldn't enroll her full-time. He failed to secure her a place in Beaux Batons as well. Once again, he had expected the no.

He hoped his third option would work. However, Hermione's hospitalization messed with the particulars of his plan. This had to be handled very delicately, and there was a very real chance of it doing more harm than good...

If he could take risks like that with his child, he could with evidence.

"Repairo," he said tapped his wand on the film, but nothing happened. Whatever magical effect it had on inorganic matter, it seemed it couldn't be reversed. "Shit!"

He took another volume off the shelf and tried to find out what spells and creatures had such effects...There had to be something.

Hermione was used to her father being ashamed of her. This shouldn't have been such a blow, and she had more important things to attend to. She wondered if Colin's body would offer more evidence than Mrs Norris. Why'd her father have to take the camera?! You little idiot! His expertise is Dark Arts...what could you possibly find that he couldn't?

After Hermione was coaxed into putting down her book and eating lunch Neville-who Hermione was certain would keep avoiding her-came in looking nervous. His blue eyes darted around the room an he checked behind him before approaching Hermione.

"What's up?" Hermione asked leaping to her feet. "Are you hurt?"

Neville shook his head. "Just wanted to make sure I wasn't followed."

"He visits me after supper, Neville," she offered. "You're safe."

Neville let out a sigh of relief. "You should tell Harry and Ron that. Harry swore Snape was looking at him like he wanted to wring his neck. So I came to give you this instead."

Neville passed her a letter with writing she didn't recognize. He still looked uneasy.

"Thanks," she said. "You know, Neville, I haven't felt this trapped since I was little. Can you tell me about the outside world?"

"He can after you've rested!" Pomfrey said ushering Neville to the entrance. "Heaps of potions and enchantments to restructure your brain and body made useless!"

"I'm semi-nocturnal!" Hermione tried to reason with her. "But there's so much commotion during the day-"

"This from the Potions Master's daughter?" Pomfrey spat. "I'll fetch you a sleeping potion, something you should have requested before now."

"Erm, thanks for the letter, Neville."

Hermione E.L Snape

Great Hall

Hogwarts

She normally got her letters from Hiro, Kaori and Saiyaka midweek while Sam, Anya and Toshio wrote her much less frequently than they had over the summer and September. She wondered if something happened back in Japan before she saw she didn't recognise the writing. She'd memorized and mimicked the writing of so many, she didn't expect a letter addressed to her to be so inscrutable. Did she dare open it? Well, she was in the hospital so if it was trapped she could easily be treated.

Dear Hermione,

Last we met, you wouldn't have yet been a year-old. So I'll make this as painless as possible. My name is Eliza Sato, and I am your mother.

Hermione let out a yowl of surprise and leapt to all fours staring at the bit of parchment. What-no, this Sato woman abandoned her! Left her alone for twelve years without once writing! Why-why would she write now? Hermione's hair stood on end and she hissed at the letter. Perhaps she should read the rest of the letter...but...she always wanted to know just who gave birth to her. She didn't want to admit it, because some part of her felt it betrayed her father. Like admitting he wasn't good enough, when he'd sacrificed so much already. But, she didn't even know what her magical heritage or ethnicity was...she knew nothing about herself, or at least her origins. She suspected-though she never would tell- there was a chance she was adopted, but her father hardly seemed the type to claim a child he had no previous connection to...It was all so overwhelming! And now this woman who showed no sign she knew she existed was claiming to be her mother? What the hell was she supposed to do?

She leapt on the letter and tried to collect her thoughts as she felt tears spring to her eyes. Should she read it? Tear it? Burn it? She always thought she'd leap-not literally- on the chance to know anything about the woman who gave birth to her...but now? It terrified her. Should she tell anyone? Part of her wanted to talk to someone about it, but she didn't even know who she could turn to. Talking about a mother back from the dead (at least figuratively) would be too painful for Harry. Luna was also motherless, and difficult to talk to. Hiro would be her first choice, but she wondered if, like Harry and Luna, the death of his father would make talking about the woman who gave birth to her too painful. She wondered if Sato ever reached out to her father...but she couldn't exactly ask without letting on that she'd been contacted.

Hermione took the letter with shaking hands, swallowed and pressed on.

I don't know how much your father told you about me, or even if he did. Our story wasn't exactly a romance for the ages, and we didn't leave things on a good note. Where to start...I met your father while visiting your grandfather in England. Your grandmother raised me on her own in New York, so like you, I found out about half my parentage later in life. We corresponded for some time, and when I was twenty I apparated to England to meet him. One weekend I decided to take in the local life. That was when I met your father. We were young, stupid and one drink turned to many. I was content to leave him, but it must have been a week or two later I realized I was pregnant with you, so I tracked him down.

We tried to make it work, but we were too different. Everything became a shouting match, and I'm sorry to say, but like your English grandfather, I had my vices. I was an alcoholic...honestly, I still am. That had to be the biggest source of our arguments, and I knew I was hurting you in the process, but I couldn't stop. Then you came, and far too early. You were so small and so sick...I didn't know what to do! You were this tiny little blue thing, barley conscious. I blamed myself for your condition, I couldn't even look at you. I felt so guilty over what I'd done I couldn't go with you to the hospital. And fear of you being taken away led me to insist your father take you to a muggle hospital.

There was an incident when you were finally allowed home during my withdrawals. Your father was livid, told me to get my shit together or get the hell out of his daughter's life. So, I left.

You might be wondering why I'm writing you after twelve years of silence. Magical interventions failed to work, so the hospital suggested I write to everyone I've ever wronged. It's a very long list, and you're on top of it. I still think you two are better off without me, but I had to do this if I ever wanted to know peace. You don't have to write back.

Farewell,

Mama.

Hermione stared at the letter trying not to hiss. Did she really just call herself "Mama"? Sato had been gone from her life for years, expressed not wanting to speak to her again, and had the nerve to call herself "Mama"! Sato might have been ill but she couldn't have tried? She was told to get her shit together or leave, and she left!

Addiction isn't that simple though...Hermione thought. Hermione wasn't addicted to anything, but she had issues. Homework had to be done three times, chapters read thrice, because a part of her beyond reason told her she would fail if she didn't. The irrational part of her brain knew she would never be good enough for anyone, so she held her tongue when she was upset, unless she couldn't...then the crushing guilt stepped in. She couldn't regulate her emotions or anxiety, and not for lack of trying. And now that her brain had been physically altered...no amount of willpower could have stopped her from engaging in cat-like behaviour. And she tried...If Sato was like Hermione, was it any wonder she turned to alcohol?

But...was Hermione not worth the effort? Did she even try when she was given the ultimatum? It didn't sound like it...I wish I had been enough to make you stay, make you try...No! Fuck that! I'm better off without her! This letter might not even be real! Though Hermione couldn't think of anyone cruel enough to forge a letter claiming her to be the woman who gave birth to her, and that she couldn't even hold her...even if it was out of guilt.

The urge to bound around the wing while batting around something violently spoke to her like a siren's song. For once, Hermione did the sensible thing and downed Pomfrey's sleeping potion.

"Busy aren't we?" O'Malley asked, his eyes growing as he saw the stack of books beside her.

"Hey, O'Malley," Hermione sighed putting her essay aside before leaning in close to him to whisper. "News from underground?"

O'Malley shook his head going through the stack on her bedside. "Just that he is pretty pleased with the whole damn thing. Seems to think the first attack was some great omen. What of your end?"

Hermione felt her ears fall as she sighed. "I keep thinking I found something, then there's a property out of place. Until I have more, I'm starting to think I've gotten as far as research can go. How many-" she sighed looking at Colin "How many more do you imagine will be attacked before while we're stuck chasing our tails?"

"Or your tail," O'Malley sighed. "Can always find that silver-lining, can't you, sunshine?"

"Please stop calling me that," Hermione felt her hair stand on end while her tail grew bushy.

O'Malley chuckled at this.

"Just what is so damn funny?" her voice cracked into a squeaky mew.

"You're just-"

"Is this a bad time?" asked Harry followed by Ron.

"I hope not!" Luna sang following the boys in. "Do you think we've been arranged want meet her all at once?"

Fred and George must have been lured by whatever force Luna spoke of as they-who haven't visited since the first day-arrived.

Shit! I wanted to speak to them alone too! Hermione thought the map would be useful, and wanted to see if they would lend it to her. But now, she was not only unable to ask, but she couldn't ask O'Malley any more questions, or exchange theories with Harry and Ron. And every time Ginny came to see her, she caught sight of Harry and took off. Luna was right, there were forces at work here, and they hated her!

"What's up?" Harry asked eyeing her as if she were a panicked animal.

"Nothing!" she squeaked.

Luna's already large silver eyes grew to a massive size as she squealed. "You're so cute!"

"Luna!" Hermione cried as laughter erupted from the six around her.

"Sorry, Hermione," George laughed. "But it's true!"

"George!" Fred gave a dramatic gasp. "Ickle kitty's so cute when she's angry!"

Hermione felt the tension in her muscles grow as her tail flicked wildly. She bit her lip to hold back a hiss and failed before leaping to her feet and rising on her tiptoes. "If you think I'm cute when I'm angry you are about to find me adorable!"

"Was that supposed to be a threat, sunshine?" O'Malley teased.

"It wasn't very good, was it?" Luna asked earnestly.

"Oh, ha ha!" Hermione hissed. "My body and brain are horribly transfigured and I don't know when I'll be back to normal! It's fucking hilarious!"

The laughter stopped and everyone exchanged nervous and hurt glances. Hermione's words finally held power, and she didn't feel as vindicated as she hoped. She just felt mean. And the laughter didn't hurt any less. But her anger and fear still spiraled in her head. A voice within her cried They'll all laugh or they'll all leave...you're not enough, never were...but last year..this summer...doesn't matter, does it?

"That was probably mean of us," Luna ventured before anyone else had the courage to speak.

"It's fine!" she sighed retreating back to her bed and hugging her knees. Don't let your emotions get the better of you...what use is anger?...calm down.

Hermione felt hand on her shoulder and her angry cat-brain couldn't be talked down, even when she recognized the scent. It was as if her body had been filled with static She let out an angry hiss and scratched the hand's owner in the face.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry, Harry!" she squeaked, but apologies following were just squeaks.

"What the hell was that, Hermione?!" Harry and Ron cried.

Harry clutched his white face moaning in pain, blood dripped between his fingers and onto the abandoned, broken spectacles at his feet. He looked at her horrified.

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. "I didn't-" fix this, you stupid piece of shit! Hermione made strangled, panicked mews as Fred ran to get Pomfrey. It's you that destroys everything you touch!

Hermione grabbed her wand in a shaking hand..."I'm so fucking sorry, Harry, I-" panicked yowls after her voice cracked.

Harry moved his hand and Hermione saw three bleeding marks running across from his left eye to lower right cheek. "Epiksey," she said quietly stopping the bleeding. "Repairo" she handed his glasses back to him. "I'm really am sorry..."

"No further luck with the camera," Severus told Pomfrey as he entered her office. "I'll keep looking to see if I can find anything. I thought Potter was released?"

He passed Potter on his way in, wearing bandages over one eye looking and quite uncomfortable, pretending to read. He expected Hermione to be talking to him, happy for company after being "trapped", but instead there was a tight ball under blankets where Hermione either slept or feigned sleep. This was not going according to plan at all.

Sure, wait to give her the letter, she'll need time to adjust to her hospitalization...but don't wait till she's out, then it might be too late. What the hell? She wasn't going to be attacked by the creature in the hospital wing...all I've accomplished is telling an elaborate lie and upsetting her...You stupid piece of shit...

"He was released this morning," she said. "But your daughter scratched him, nearly taking out his eye! If she can't control her cat-like behaviour, we will have to discuss transferring her to Saint-Mungo's."

And she would have had a ticket out of here anyway! Fucking brilliant! "Why did she scratch him? Hermione's never been violent."

"Put an upset, confused cat in the centre of a loud crowd of people without a place to hide and see if anything happens!" Pomfrey said, more loudly this time. "I never should have allowed her visitors. With her brain altered, she's far too easily over-stimulated. I can't believe you and McGonagall are pressing on with advancing her when she can't stop herself from pouncing on bits of parchment! The stress isn't just slowing her progress, but it undoes it!"

Shit... "If her behaviour isn't improved in two days I'll consent to the transfer."

He left the office and spied what seemed like the twitching of a triangular ear from under the covers. He suspected Hermione, with her uncanny hearing, must have heard every word. She would be there all night paralyzed by guilt and distress. Hermione wasn't a reactionary child, she liked to think, to weigh things at her best, and she froze on the spot at the worst. The cat in her wanted to react immediately to everything...he imagined it made her cat-brain win every time.

You should have come up with something ages ago! It's not like you didn't suspect her muggle-heritage might put her in danger before now...The plan when he wrote the damn thing was to have her seen by others opening the letter. He was certain she and Potter would discuss it. She seemed to confide in the boy for some reason. Potter would undoubtedly tell Weasley, and if Hermione herself was convinced, then she'd be safe, even if the more ridiculous rumours persisted. He could have come up with something more pleasant, but she never would have believed it...He spent days trying to think of something she would buy but leave alone. He had his answers prepared for when she confronted him...which even while she was in the hospital, he expected her to immediately jump down his throat. Now he wondered if she would confront him at all...He was starting to think she wouldn't last his next well-intended attempt to protect her...It was his mistake with her memory all over again...

"I trusted you!" Hermione's voice cried in his mind. "And you thought playing with my mind would work?!" "Complicated Circumstances!" You fucking prat, how much damage do you intend to inflict before she turns seventeen? If she does abandon you, you deserve it!

"Hermione?" Harry's voice whispered.

Hermione had been curled up in a ball since Pomfrey came to patch up Harry. Harry did nothing, and she hurt him! Why? Because people laughed at her? Merlin, people had been laughing at her since she was old enough to remember. How could she hurt one of her friends so badly? Sure she scratched Ron's hand, but it was nothing...she nearly cost Harry his eye...what if they hadn't been in the hospital...what then? No, it wouldn't have happened if I didn't have my cat-brain.

"Come on, Hermione," he whispered again. "My eye will be fine. You apologized. You even stopped the bleeding. I'm not mad...Hermione?"

"You should be!" Hermione squeaked. "You just got out of the hospital too! Just leave me alone! I'll just hurt you again."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Harry ripped off the blankets, bathing her in his wand's light. "You can't just hide from me all night."

Hermione hissed at Harry staring at his wounded face. Part of her couldn't help but admire Pomfrey's spellwork. The scratches on his face seemed weeks rather than hours old and, she could tell, they wouldn't even scar. His eye was still covered with the bandage, but he barely sounded like he was in pain. Hermione couldn't help but feel pathetic. Harry nearly lost his eye and Hermione was the one sulking beneath the covers.

"I fucked up, Harry," she whispered wiping her eyes. "I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry demanded, his visible green eye aflame with anger. "I'm the one that nearly lost an eye. I get to decide who deserves my forgiveness! If you don't feel worthy; well, that's too bad isn't?! I forgive you! If you want to feel like you've earned it then you can help me!"

"How can I help you?" she sniffed. "All I do is let people down at best and hurt them at worst..."

"How do you reckon?" Harry scoffed. "Because you scratched me once? Or because you were angry instead of 'disappointed' when anyone would be mad? I need your help, Hermione, but I reckon you need someone else's." Harry held out his hand. "You're hearing is incredible right now, Hermione. I reckon you heard every word between Snape and Pomfrey tonight. If you can't hear the voices-"

"I might be able to hear its movement!" Hermione leapt to a sitting position, ready to spring from all fours at Harry's command. "Libby said there was banging in the pipes. We could start near the kitchens! According to Hogwarts: A History it should be in the bowels of the school. So if the kitchen doesn't work we know to limit it to the dungeons!"

Harry smirked. "We could do that...if you're done sulking, that is?"

"Let's go!"

Hermione and Harry crept around the castle and made it to the underground tunnel to the kitchens without incident. The two melted along the walls barefoot, and Hermione found her new body was much more suited to stealth than she had been before. Hermione would miss her eyes when they went back to normal, she saw everything without needing to light her wand.

Once they reached the tunnel, Hermione pressed her ear to the wall and she heard it, the banging of the pipes. She pressed up against the wall, there was something moving inside the wall.

Did she smell...burning? It she couldn't describe it if she were asked, but it was as almost like the scent of burnt material was the scent of whatever made the noises, rather than it having suffered a burn. She thought of how to describe it to Harry when she turned back to him, his one eye open while he hugged the wall, gripping the wall.

"I think I hear it...saying the same things 'kill' 'rend' 'tear' 'hungry'. You still don't hear it with your new ears do you?" Harry whispered.

Same things, eh? If Harry was hearing that on the daily, he must've have been losing as much sleep over it as she was. Whatever it was, it meant business, and petrification might be the kinder of the ways it attacked. They had to track it down tonight before someone else got hurt, or someone got killed. Hermione ignored the heart pounding in her ears, and the voice telling her she was not at all prepared to follow it to the chamber.

"No, but I hear something moving!" she said. "I think it's in the pipes! I can smell it!"

The two rushed along the wall following the movement, Hermione stopping to sniff the wall every so often. She dug out her wand unsure what she would do if the creature appeared before her, and Harry, trying to keep pace with her, had the same idea, clutching his wand and ready to cast at whatever came out of the walls. Hermione tired to recall if she'd ever read about monsters that petrified and burn things. Though her greater worry was the cat brain taking over and causing her to physically attack the creature rather than subdue it with magic. Or worse...what if she hid? What if she left Harry to die while cowering in the corner like a frightened kitten? Hermione tried to put it from her mind as she followed the massive creature sliding within the pipes.

"Wait," Harry whispered grabbing Hermione's hand.

Hermione covered her mouth to muffle the sound of a startled yowl. "What the hell..."

"It said something," he said. "It said something about returning. 'So hungry, but must return' that's what I heard."

Hermione pressed her ear to the wall trying to figure if the thing would back track, but instead it pressed forward. "This way," she whispered.

Harry and Hermione were surprised that the allegedly returning creature did not retreat further into the dungeon, but climbed the stairs to the Entrance hall and past up to the second floor. Hermione and Harry stalked along, ears to the wall when Hermione heard the click of shoes on the stone floor.

Shit! "Muffliato!" she whispered.

"Do you hear anything else?" Harry asked.

"Footsteps!" she whispered. "Filch's, I think- he won't be able to hear us right now. But we need to hide."

Hermione's hair stood on end and a chill ran down her spine. The corridor suddenly plummeted in temperature and she was assaulted by a smell she couldn't identify. Every fibre of her being begged for her to run and hide, but instead she froze in place.

"What was that?" she hissed.

"Hermione!" Harry snapped. "It's just Myrtle."

Sure enough Myrtle was behind them, eyes behind her pearly glasses shining with delight as she beamed. "Hermione?" she cackled.

Hermione hissed.

"Testy kitty, aren't we?" Myrtle giggled.

"The footsteps are getting closer..." Hermione whispered to Harry.

Harry and Hermione dove into Myrtle's bathroom, enduring the ghost girl's taunts when the scent of burning filled Hermione's nostrils again.

"What is she doing?!" Myrtle laughed.

Hermione leapt toward the sink, heavy banging, and a grinding of something hard and heavy against the plumbing. The sound, it was definitely their and the burning smell...she sniffed the pipes, but the scent from Myrtle-whatever it was- interefered with it. She pressed her nose up against the wall under the sinks but the bathroom smelled too much of Myrtle. She felt Myrtle, every inch of air in the bathroom felt-wrong. There was no other way to describe it. It was as if she were at Nick's party again, but every attendee was the Wailing Widow of Kent.

"Your tail's almost as bushy as your hair!" Myrtle howled. "And twitchy!"

Cry about it later! Hermione told herself. Her feelings...they didn't matter, and Myrtle was going to make fun of something about her no matter what. She sniffed around the sink, definitely that same unknown scent...or was it? Myrtle's presence threw her off. When she first came behind them, she lost the scent, perhaps this was an echo. But she definitely heard something banging in the pipes.

"I think I hear it..." she whispered.

"I don't hear the voice, Hermione," Harry hesitated. "I heard somewhere cats and dogs are sensitive to ghosts...are you sure?"

"I-" Myrtle was throwing her off her game, and Harry wasn't hearing the voice anymore. And the plumbing was old...she could be wrong. "I'll keep an ear out for Filch to pass."

"Missing?" Severus choked.

"Yessir," Libby nodded jumping off his bedside cabinet. "Libby went to clean the tidy the wing and she has found Miss Hermione's bed empty. But she is knowing Miss Hermione is still very cat-like and in the hospital."

Severus's heart pounded somewhere in his ears and the air in his lungs became lead. Missing? Did the stress from the letter cause her to go feral? What if the creature found her? If it was specifically targeting muggle-borns, would it pass up a victim that wondered its way? He threw a black dressing gown on over his nightshirt and grabbed his wand. There was still time to find her. Maybe instead of going feral she went to investigate. If she did he knew just where to start. He was going to kill Potter for not stopping her!

"How long was she gone? Was there anyone else in the wing? Signs of blood or a struggle?" he asked as he left their living quarters.

Libby squeaked, staring up at him with tennis ball sized brown eyes flooding her eyes. "Libby doesn't know of struggle, sir! Or how long Miss Hermione is being gone from the wing, but the wing was empty, sir! Is she-Libby will help search!" the small elf attempted to shoot off. "Miss Hermione!"

"Wait!" he barked, holding her by the back. "If she hears you bellowing her name she might not come forth. Now, you are absolutely certain there was no one else there? A boy with bandages over his eye, perhaps?"

Libby shook her head. "There wasn't a soul, sir."

"Those little idiots!" he hissed under his breath before running off to the second floor.

What the hell were they thinking?! Didn't they know the danger? Didn't he explicitly tell Potter not to endanger her? Since when was Hermione so mad as to escape the hospital when a depraved killer stalked the corridors? Hermione was still so little...she had years ahead of her. Would the last thing he saw of his little girl be a twitching ear underneath a blanket? What if she-No, 'it warms my heart to see how happy you are to see me' cannot be the last thing I've said to her!-But he already knew you don't to chose the last words you say to your loved ones.

They weren't at the scene of Mrs Norris' petrification. He was certain the two would have been playing detective, searching for clues when the whole school was supposed to be asleep. Did they do anything to prepare for the creature outside of one all-nighter with an assortment of books? But alas, the corridor was empty. He wondered if they perhaps started their journey back to the hospital wing? It was certainly better than the alternative.

He wound about the corridors watching for any sign of movement. Nothing out of the ordinary came out at him, Peeves antagonizing Filch, castle mice and stray cats bounding about here or there, and ghosts gliding by making quiet conversation among themselves. He was beginning to wonder if he made the right choice in heading back to the hospital wing when he heard the high wail of a cat, a hiss and a very recognizable squeaky voice cry: "Shit! Harry, that's my tail!"

"Erm-sorry..." Potter whispered.

He stopped. Hermione would hear his footsteps and take-off. She was okay...he let himself breathe. He was furious with her, trying to get herself killed, but he was just so relieved. She was okay. How many times had she presented him with warring impulses of flinging his arms around her, grateful that she's unharmed and screaming at her for being so stupid?

He lazily waved his wand to cast muffliato and hoped the buzzing didn't cause Hermione's new ears problems. He approached, rounding the corner before dispelling it. Once they saw him, they knew it was too late to run.

Hermione's tail puffed out and her ears nearly disappeared as she stared at him, her mismatched eyes huge as they darted from side to side. It was a strange combination of her cat-features trying to make her as big as possible while she melted into the wall trying to make herself as small as possible. Potter on the other hand stood taking in the scene with his uncovered eye in a state of confusion. He released Hermione's arm and backed away from her.

Remember, stress makes her act like a cat...

"Hermione," he approached her. "Calm down," he wasn't sure if he was telling himself or Hermione to do so.

She slowed her breathing, shutting her eyes and digging her claws into her hands. He once again wished she had a coping mechanism that didn't involve carving up her own flesh. He stooped to her level and examined her. "Are you unharmed?"

Hermione nodded with a tiny mew.

"Okay," he said trying to tame the edge in his voice. "Let's get you two back to the hospital wing and you two can explain exactly why you're both out of bed."

"I-i-it's my fault, sir," Hermione squeaked. "I heard something banging around in the pipes. I hadn't heard it before-I-erm-I thought-"

"That you wanted to go toward the suspicious sounds when there was an attacker on the loose?!" Severus's calm abandoned him.

"That''s exactly what Harry said," Hermione tried to scoff. "He tried to stop me."

"You're what, less than three-quarters of his size at the moment?" he spat.

"But I nearly took his eye out earlier today, didn't I? He followed me to try and convince me to go back."

Hermione's ears and tail fell with her eyes. She did look guilty, but there was something she wasn't telling him. Was she covering for the boy? Potter looked equally ashamed, perhaps that would be it.

"Saint-Mungo's best have better security," he muttered pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I thought I had two days!" Hermione's voice cracked as her fur stood on end.

So she could hear us. "That was before you snuck out of the hospital! And to follow banging in the pipes! Did it not occur to you that the pipes are old and that your hearing is still new? Or that rats and mice were abound in the wall?"

Hermione stared at her bare, clawed feet. If she was following banging she didn't consider this. He was hoping that the threat of sending her away would make Potter confess whatever the two were hiding. Instead he stared at his fuzzy blue slippers deep in thought. Sending her off would mean she would have superior healers and be far away from the creature. He'd take her himself. And without the need to convince her she had a magical mother and that he was her biological father, he could say the letter was a prank by some cruel child. Or still pretend it's real. In any case...

"It's for the best," he said resting his hand on her head. "Perhaps you might actually start healing without these-" he glared at Potter "disturbances."

"Dad-" Hermione squeaked.

"Bed, both of you. Now," he cut her off as they arrived in the hospital wing. "I expect to see you in my office once you're discharged, Potter."

Pomfrey entered from her office as the doors opened. "What-How-Did-"

"One of the elves tipped me off these two were missing. I suggest you charm the door to notify you of exists as well as entrances."

A harried Pomfrey stared at the two climbing into bed."I told you two to rest."

"I did say I was nocturnal..." Hermione offered sheepishly.

Potter stiffled a laugh at this.

"I fail to see what's so funny!" he snapped before leaning to whisper to Hermione. "And I see Madam Pomfrey has a solution for that problem," Severus picked the crystal vial on Hermione's bedside cabinet. "I bottle-fed you once and I'll do it again. I suggest you take it."