As soon as the teenagers left her office the door shut closed behind with a soft 'bang'. Minerva waited a few minutes before leaving her office herself, appearing busy to outside nosing portraits. The witch knew that the Headmaster had them occasionally report to him. It wasn't often and the portraits had a small amount of sentience to them, so they could make their own choices. That was how the portraits in the Headmaster's office were able to aid the current Headmaster. It was a shadow of their previous selves, but with enough sentience that they were helpful and ever learning.

She then transformed into her tabby cat form and made her way swiftly to the dungeons. It was easier on her joints, she told people who inquired. Truly though it was liberating to give into a part of her wild side. She was strict, firm, fair, and imposing. As a cat however she was free from those obligations to hold a certain appearance. She did on the first day's class for first years, but only to keep them hooked for the rest of their Hogwarts career. Being an animagus was a huge transfiguration feat, and to show off that skill to impressionable minds left a nice mark.

Even bigoted purebloods showed her respect for the achievement. She hardly had a problem with new and even old students. Hence the reason that Malfoy senior always went to the Headmaster instead of contacting the Deputy. He could sass and talk politics with the Headmaster all day, both of them dancing around one subject or other. With her however, it was straight to the point without any of that nonsense. It threw the old Slytherin off balance as it left no wiggle room.

The Headmaster may figure it was because he was the Headmaster, however the blond pureblood always made himself scarce whenever she entered the room. She had asked Severus why he was still friends with him at some point, but he had replied; "To each their own." And she left it at that.

Once she arrived at Severus's private portrait she whispered the password and barged in.

"Severus, are you busy?" she called, as she shut the portrait door behind her.

Severus was sitting in his armchair reading the latest Potioneers journal.

"Obviously, not," he said slowly.

Sometimes he wondered why he allowed her and Hooch to have unlimited access to his rooms. They knew his passwords every month, they were keyed to his wards and his floo; they pranced into his rooms whenever they felt the need, or want. In the beginning it was annoying and he cut their access for all of two weeks before he missed them. Now they at least kept to the sitting area and small kitchenette. Unfortunately each woman had seen him in a state of undress or with… company. Thankfully it was Hooch who caught him with the woman and merely catcalled from the doorway.

"Good. I've just performed the bond, it went splendidly, by the way. You know, in case you were wondering," she said teasingly, making herself comfortable on the opposing couch.

"Good to know," he said uncaringly, going back to his journal.

"Potter started crying, it was such a sweet moment, Severus. If there wasn't any animosity between the two of you I would have insisted that you be there!" she exclaimed.

"Minerva, I don't want to hear about every time something sentimental happens with the boy," he said exasperatedly.

The potions master threw his head back against his chair, practically throwing a small temper tantrum.

"Oh Severus, you're just as bad as the kids with your brooding," the witch's voice was light.

"I would thank you not to compare me to our angst riddled students," he said looking up at the stone ceiling.

"I don't know," she said singsong, "Tall, dark, and handsome falls into certain categories," she teased.

If Severus didn't know he would think she was a young witch again with all her teasing. She was exactly like her animagus form, catty and often playful. She simply loved to bat his ego around. Hooch on the other hand had an eye that often saw things that she shouldn't.

"Minerva, are you in here?" called another feminine voice.

Speak of the devil…

"Yes, Hooch, I'm here," the elder witch replied.

"Keeping tall, dark, and handsome company?" she teased, strutting into the room as though she owned the place.

"Of course, dear," the cat animagus practically purred with a mischievous smile on her face.

"Is he upset that the students are back?" the yellow eyed witch asked.

"I would thank you not to talk about me like I'm not here," Severus called annoyed.

They always did this to him! Why was he friends with them again?

"Don't worry, Sev. I know you're here. And in good company now that we're both here!" the short haired witch called, placing her hands on her hips.

The wizard rolled his head, his hair hanging softly to stare at the high spirited woman. His eyes were screaming, 'Why'.

"Don't look at me like that, Sev. You know you wanted us to be down here. I brought the whiskey for our last shot of the break!" she announced, pulling a bottle of Ogden's Finest out of her robe pocket.

It was tradition that they get together and take a shot of whiskey to 'help' get them through the term. They all had high enough tolerance where it didn't affect their teaching or cognitive abilities. It was simply the comradery between friends, a social drink, since they all stayed sober for the semester.

"Drink up!" the athletic witch shouted, as she poured them each a healthy shot.

Severus absently noted that she summoned his taller shot glasses so she could make them drink more. With how the year was turning out, he wasn't going to complain. They each held their shot and tossed it back with practiced ease.

Dinner in the Great Hall came faster than most of the residents wanted. With dinner though, came the post.

Hedwig came in steadily with a package of Easter eggs from Mrs. Weasley, of which also contained Percy's letter. Apparently Harry did owl Percy a few questions, but the letter itself was disappointing and rude (in the witch's opinion at least). What was more disappointing however was the egg package for Hermione.

Harry's and Ron's were the size of dragon eggs, whereas Hermione's was smaller than a chicken egg. They were full of delicious homemade toffee. Hermione's face was crestfallen when she saw it.

"Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, doe she Ron?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, gets it for the recipes," replied the redhead whose mouth was full of toffee. Secretly the boy was pleased that his mother sent Hermione such a small package. He could have cleared up the misconception at any time by sending her a letter. Yet he was still mad that she was dating Krum, she wasn't supposed to be doing that. His mum would fix her right though, he was sure, his mum fixed everything.

Hermione looked back at her egg and pursed her lips. So it appeared that even though the Weasley matriarch was upset with her, she still had plans for the bookworm. The witch filed this information away while planning on bugging her new brother for some of his toffee later.

A few moments later a large owl that looks faintly familiar to her, held his leg out to give her a letter. Ron tried to take it instead and the owl bit him, giving him a bit of a dirty look. Which was amusing considering his tufts looked like angry eyebrows. He held his leg out again to the witch and she took it gently. He nibbled lightly on her fingers affectionately. She pet him a bit and give him a piece of meat before he took off again.

"Whose bloody bird is that!?" Ron asked indignantly, holding his finger in his mouth. The owl had bit hard enough to draw blood.

"Fucking mental, that one," he said lowly, shooting the owl and Hermione dirty looks.

Hermione ignored him and opened the letter carefully, recognizing it from her parents.

Dear Hermione,

I hope Martin gets this to you alright. We've taken to calling him Marty. He's a good bird so far. Pretty smart too. Here's a picture of him so you remember what he looks like. He's friendly.

Love,

Mum and Dad

Hermione laughed to herself.

'Friendly to Granger's apparently. Not friendly with others.'

Hermione pocketed the letter and the enclosed picture of Marty looking regal. She could tell the picture was taken in their living room. Which promptly reminded her of her training in the tea room.

They had only but so much time to train, and Hermione was going to be sure that Harry had some nice spells in his arsenal for the upcoming task. First however, he had to finish his homework.

The trio made their way back to the common room where Harry sat dutifully with his homework. It was due the next day and Hermione was glad that Harry had at least finished a third of it alone. Unlike Ronald who had done none of his homework.

The boy tried to wheedle Hermione into helping him, or rather giving him the answers.

"C'mon, Hermione," he whined, "You already did all of this. Help a bloke out, it's due tomorrow."

"I know, which is why I did mine early. So I wouldn't be here doing it the night before," she said tightly.

"You're helping Harry," he complained.

"Yes, because Harry actually did some of it on his own. He made an effort," she said easily.

"He's got a leg up on me, 'mione," he tried the puppy face.

The young witch glared at the third in their group. He knew she hated nicknames. If he thought that he could emotionally manipulate her, he had another thing coming.

"He does. He already finished a decent portion of his homework. He didn't wait for me to spoon feed him answers, did you, Harry," she turned to look at the messy haired wizard.

She knew he was uncomfortable with their arguing, but she refused to be used in this matter. He yelled at her about it earlier, but it finally sank in that it was due tomorrow. Harry shook his head, trying to stay out of their argument.

"Can't you just let me look at yours so I have an idea of what it should look like?" the redhead tried again.

"No, Ron. Knowing you, you would just copy the answers," she said, "You know the more time you try to get me to do your homework, the less time you have to do it yourself?"

Ron's face flushed red.

'Why couldn't she just GIVE him the answers!? She already did it! It would help a bloke out! He would do it for her if he did it!' he thought furiously.

Of course, that would be the case if he ever did his homework without her. Before the troll incident he knew his homework was less than stellar, but since she had been helping he at least received A's for Acceptable, on the rare occasion EE for Exceeds Expectations. The bookworm of course almost always received O's for Outstanding. The only one she didn't was for potions, only because the greasy bat Snape hated Gryffindors, he was sure of it.

"Please, Hermione?" he whined.

"Ron, why don't you actually try to do your homework? Then if you really don't understand it she might help," Harry said quietly.

Ron looked at his best mate, screwing his face up. What was the point of being friends with the smartest witch in the school if she wouldn't do your homework for you? But Harry knew how to soothe the beast that was Hermione Granger, and if he said to at least try, then it couldn't hurt.

He sighed loudly before pulling out his parchment and trying to do his homework himself.

'The bitch should be doing my homework for me.', he thought grumpily.

Dumbledore sat serenely at the head table with the rest of the staff members. It was nice to see that the students were back, and amusing to see the teenage angst about term resuming.

He watched Harry in the corner of his eye as he ate his dinner. Molly had sent him Easter eggs filled with her grand goodies he was sure. The witch sitting next to him paid him no more mind than she did the youngest male Weasley. The romance rumors were unfounded it appeared. He would ensure the eventual breakup between her and the quidditch star. He had a deal with the matriarch and he would see it through. The witch had been keeping up her end after all.

If anything he was sure he could put a spin on it. If she was so admirable to a quidditch star, she must be beautiful (in addition to her brilliance). Imagine how much better the Weasleys would look when she chose to be with them instead. Yes, it would give the Weasleys the political boost Molly was seeking. The-Boy-Who-Lived married to her daughter and the brightest witch of her age, married to one of her sons. It didn't matter which at this point as they were all unattached. The young witch would have her pick.

Not to mention the Potter fortune would be in their grasp. Just another few years. He already used most of Harry's guardian funds for himself and the Weasleys as it was. He didn't allow Harry to take much of his student allowance, taking it instead for himself.

What he wanted, was to get into the main Potter vault. He had his own vault of course, the Dumbledore vault was quite full of riches. But it was often watched, and he was proud to be able to show off his bank statements as proof that he wasn't spending gold on whatever he was accused of. One of which was funding a vigilante organization.

The Potter's were an old family, they had old money. As they were dead, their vaults weren't watched. So he was able to take out large amounts of gold at a time. They gave their son thousands of galleons for a simple yearly allowance.

He had made himself the Potter guardian in hopes that it would allow him access to those vaults so he could further fund the Order, despite the late Potter's wishes. Yet the goblins wouldn't allow it as he wasn't a Potter although he was the guardian of one. That was why he left him with his muggle family. He needed access to the boy whenever he felt was the right time. He needed to know where he was at all times.

They were muggles who wanted nothing to do with the magical world. They wouldn't receive stipulations for taking care of the boy, they wouldn't be anywhere near his money. His gold would be untouched for the most part, all he had to do was bide his time.

He had to pick someone who he could put trust in. Someone who trusted him blindly. The Weasleys were steadfast in their loyalty to the Order, so when they had a daughter, he spoke quietly with Molly. The witch latched onto it as quickly as he had let the idea slip out of his mouth. It was coming out wonderfully.

The Potter boy would marry the Weasley girl, and Molly would have access to the vaults through her daughter. The Weasley family would be back in good standing with the fortuitous marriage. The muggleborn was simply for bragging rights. No one else would probably want the bucktoothed bookworm. Even after the Yule ball, she simply went right back to dressing in her normal frumpy clothes. No one would want her, he was sure. They didn't want her before, why would they now?

Albus took a drink of the wonderful elf wine he had the house-elves serve him.

Things would work out well for him, he was confident in that.