Hermione causes a stir in the common room, then goes for a run in the woods, and a horse is a horse of course of course
As much as Hermione was enjoying school and learning and making friends and planning inter-species rebellions, she was a very physically active child. By the beginning of their third week she was starting to feel a little bit cooped up in the castle. Even though it was admittedly enormous and changed frequently and had many secrets.
Her brother, always the happy homebody and a bit on the naturally lazier side, thought she was barking mad. This was generally one of his favorite things to say to her, as she would reliably transform and bark at him in response. She had not been able to do so lately, and so it fell tragically flat when he said it and she had to look around at their full common room and bark quietly with her dumb human mouth.
Neville's quill was paused midair next to her where he'd been working on his history essay, and he stared at her dumbfounded as a drop of ink splattered to his parchment. Blinking a bit he shook his head "Sorry, did you just say you're bored in the thousand year old castle we live in? The one with secret passageways and moving staircases and living portraits from every era in wizarding history?" He asked in disbelief. She whined a bit, and shook her head "No, bored isn't the right word. I guess I'm feeling a bit restless, I really want to go outside and run in the forest but we're not supposed to," she said sadly, crossing her arms on the table and laying her head down on top of them.
He followed her gaze out their tower window and down to the tree line below "Aren't there tons of things that can kill us in there? Didn't one of the prefects specifically say something about a nest of giant spiders?" She shrugged forlornly, pouting "Maybe, but they also say there's werewolves that live in there and I bet that's a big whopping lie too. There have got to be so many good things to smell and chase," she said longingly.
Her brother scoffed and she pouted at him "I know you love having your fur on, but if you get too comfortable in it you're going to find yourself forgetting how to walk on two legs one of these days" he said not unkindly. Her pout fell away and her face became genuinely crestfallen "I wish I'd been able to give you my gift properly Harry, you know that right?" She said softly, and he reached over and squeezed her hand affectionately and nodded.
Their friend looked between the two of them and with his voice lowered to a whisper he asked "I'm so confused, are you not both werewolves?"
Hermione laughed and nodded "Sorry, it feels like we've known each other forever. I keep thinking you know all our secrets already," she said with a grin. He smiled at her and she explained quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to listen in "I was born a werewolf and I can change any time I like. Harry was born a human and when dad adopted him I bit him to turn him into a werewolf. He can only change on the three days of the full moon"
Neville looked torn between being intensely curious and more than a bit uncomfortable "Hang on, so when you say you want to go run in the forest… what you mean is you want to t-turn into your- your w-we- werewolf form? Isn't that… dangerous?" He asked, looking a little green around the gills. Hermione tried not to be hurt, he didn't know and so he was asking, that was better than jumping to conclusions. The least she could do was give him the benefit of the doubt and honor that trust.
"All the myths and rumors you've ever heard about werewolves, that we change and uncontrollably bite and attack people, that's only true for wolves who don't accept their nature and fear or hate themselves. It's almost always loners who don't have packs, and that's only a very small percentage of us. If you're at peace with your wolf and trust it not to hurt you or the people you care about, the change is easy and you're as harmless as a regular animal. Internal balance makes for external balance. I could shift right here in the common room in front of you and not a single person would be at risk. All I'd do is curl up by the fire" she said confidently, hoping against hope that he would believe her.
His face said that at the very least he wanted to believe, and her heart felt on the cusp of being potentially ripped to pieces if he rejected her nature here in this moment. Without even thinking about it she trusted her gut and slid off of her chair and onto the floor, letting her magic shimmer over her in a wash of green sparkles. She stood on all fours as a small brown wolf and laid her head gently on her friend's leg, looking up at him with big silvery grey puppy eyes.
The entire common room had fallen dreadfully silent, and all eyes were on the two of them. Her brother was wide-eyed and glancing around frantically as if he was going to have to personally fight off a werewolf hunter in this room full of children. She felt bad for making his life so difficult, but sometimes you had to rip the bandaid off.
Neville let out a precious little "Oh" that had a tremendous amount of feeling behind it, and hesitantly reached out with his index finger and poked the very tip of her twitching nose. He giggled "It's cold and wet like a dog's" he said a bit dumbly, and she heard a few people laugh, but more importantly his face blossomed into a huge radiant smile. He very lightly brushed the pads of his fingers over the silky fur on the top of her head and her eyes closed contentedly. A moment later she twisted her head around to stare at her brother, beseeching him with her sweet puppy eyes, and he sighed and stood and repeated loudly for the whole of Gryffindor house to hear what she'd just explained to Neville.
"Can she understand us when she's like that?" An older student asked, and she spun around to face him and nodded her head up and down to gasps and claps of delight.
"What if she bites someone while she's shifted like that and it's not the full moon, would they turn into a werewolf?" asked one of the twins year mates, which caused the entire room to break out into nervous muttering. She emphatically shook her head no and looked at Harry with a whine, who rushed to help her out "It's complicated, but mostly it's about intentionality. The loners who bite and turn people against their will are sad and frustrated because they don't have a pack and instinctively try to create more werewolves so they'll have others to run with because we're social creatures. Pack wolves like us only ever bite with permission, and with the desire to bring someone in who wants to join our family," he said succinctly, explaining rather well she thought.
Somewhere in the crowd of her housemates someone whispered very low under their breath, incredibly quietly they said "Hermione if you can hear this, bark three times," and she immediately barked three times in rapid succession, drawing all the crosstalk and chatter to a confused halt. "What does she want?" She heard someone say, then Parvati rushed to the front of the room "I can't ruddy believe she heard that, I was just messing about! I whispered from all the way on the other side of the tower so quiet I couldn't even hear myself!" The girl exclaimed excitedly, drawing intrigued noises from all around the common room.
Suddenly everyone seemed to want to test her senses of hearing and smell, and Harry was forced to peevishly admit that hers were generally better than his own in their human forms, and significantly more so when she was shifted. She sportingly played sniffer dog for a while, with students presenting her objects and asking her who they belonged to. She had a nearly perfect success rate, and had been tripped up only once when one of Fred and George's friends gave her an object of theirs that they technically shared between the two of them.
A third year girl with a very fat cat in her arms asked her brother "Can she understand other animals? Like our pets?" And he had to think about that a bit. He looked to her for clarification and she tilted her head back and forth noncommittally "Not exactly, it honestly depends more on how smart the animal is. They don't talk, like when we're transformed we don't hear them saying words. But it's definitely easier to understand what the noises they make are trying to convey when we're shifted. Never hurts to try, if your cat's clever enough she might be able to get something from it" he said, and the girl rushed forward to give it a shot.
When she set the cat down across from Hermione, it mostly just seemed a bit nervous until she laid down flat on the floor with her head on her paws. It relaxed after that, and her and the cat spent a good several moments staring each other down. She sneezed, and then looked up at the girl and nodded with a doggy grin. She'd come find her and tell her all about it later.
"Does she know any tricks?" Someone asked, to mixed laughter and scolding from the crowd. Like a trained circus animal, she leapt up onto the table they'd been studying on and did a little routine. She sat, she held out a paw which one of the Weasley twins gleefully shook, she laid down, she rolled over, she stood on her hind legs and did a little dance, she pretended to be shot and fell down dead, she lifted her back legs in the air and walked in a circle on her front paws. Her house mates applauded all of her silly little tricks uproariously. She looked at the crowd and tilted her head as if asking if they'd had enough of a show, to much laughter and cheering.
"Has she ever chased a squirrel like that?" Seamus asked playfully when the noise had finally started to die down, and the room burst into laughter again. She laid down and put her paws over her snout in embarrassment as Harry viciously tore into a humiliating story about the time she'd been chased by a black bear. She had thought she'd been playing with a large puppy that had wandered into the woods, but it was actually a bear cub whose mother had been decidedly unimpressed with her. She had been the one who had ended up getting chased halfway across the forest before Ófnir had come to her rescue.
She supposed she deserved that small revenge from her brother. At least it was helping people be less afraid of them. She was optimistic, until a question she should have been ready for tore through the happy air of the room. "Isn't your dad a killer? Wasn't he one of you-know-who's death eaters?" Someone asked from the anonymity of the middle of the crowd. Whispers filled the room in a buzzing hush, and everyone turned to Harry, who looked panicked and uncertain.
She shifted back to her human form in an instant, to everyone's great shock "We don't know who started the rumors about our father, but they're not true. He's never killed anyone, and he definitely didn't serve the dark lord - he hates the dark lord because that monster killed my mother! Our dad is a good wolf - he's the alpha of our pack, and he's always taken care of us. I know it's hard to believe when someone tells you something that's common knowledge is a lie, but someone started those lies on purpose to hurt werewolves and to make people hate us as much as possible," she said, injecting as much earnestness and open transparency as she possibly could into her words. She was desperate for her house mates to believe her - everyone that did was an entire network of people they might go on to share that information with.
There were some mutters around the room, and another person loudly asked "Why would someone go to all the trouble of making up lies? Why would they even hate werewolves in the first place if those things aren't really true?" To her relief, the seventh year female prefect came over to where Hermione was standing and put her arm around her shoulder, answering for her "There will always be people that hate those who are different, and anything else that they don't understand. The blood supremacists hate muggleborns and the people who are willing to be friends with us. They don't even want us here at Hogwarts because they don't think we're as pure or as magical as them," she said, and Hermione looked up at the older girl and found herself caught on that statement.
She looked out over her house mates and found her courage again "They don't want us here either, Harry and I are only here because I'm a Black and he's a Potter. They couldn't leave us out if they tried, but they did try and they succeeded with the other magical werewolf children in our pack! Our friends Rainy and Patrick should have come with us to school this year, they're magical eleven year olds just like us, but they didn't get Hogwarts letters because they're not from influential families. And Bobberty should have gotten a letter two years ago but he didn't, and if Melvynthia had gotten a letter when she should have she'd be a sixth year now! They might have been Gryffindors, but instead they've been having to get lessons at home from the older wolves, and most of them weren't allowed to come to school either so they had to teach themselves," she said angrily, to a common room that was stunned silent.
Harry, recognizing a moment for solidarity if ever there was one, came up and looped his arm through hers. She saw him look at her questioningly out of the corner of her eye and nodded, and he turned and spoke to the room "We're going to try and do something about it with the voices we have, we each have a hereditary seat on the wizengamot - the Black and Potter seats like Hermione said. I know there are others in this very room who have the same privilege who could do so as well," he challenged, glancing around and startling when he realized their friend had stood up.
"My gran is currently sitting proxy in my seat until I come of age, but as the Longbottom heir I have the right to tell her how I'd like our family to vote… And I will!" Neville announced proudly, and Hermione ran to him and hugged him tightly.
"Our grandad lost the house seat back during World War Two, but maybe with enough work we could get a Weasley on the wizengamot again - it would be quite the political coup for our family!" Said a scheming Percy, and he was elbowed hard on each side by Fred and George.
An older boy spoke up "The Fawleys have always been Gryffindors and have always hated blood purists. It's terrible that letters aren't going out to magical children just because they're werewolves! I'll tell my dad to address it at the next board of governors meeting, and my mum to bring it up in the wizengamot" he said with a firm nod.
A ridiculously beautiful middle eastern girl with a scarf wrapped loosely around her shoulders and head that left her shining inky black hair visible beneath said "The Shafiq family doesn't bow down to blood purists either. I'll tell my aba to bring it to the school board, and my ama and my uncle to bring it to the wizengamot as well!"
Every time someone new spoke and pledged their support the room broke out into cheers and applause. Her chest was warm at the overwhelming outpouring of unity she felt from her house mates, and the grin on her face was enormous as she committed their names and faces to memory to approach and thank later.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been such a wonderful evening and Hermione was so satisfied with the way everything had shaken out in the common room. It could have gone so badly, and she was intensely grateful for the way Harry and Neville had stepped up and covered for her impulsive move. That being said, she still felt the need to stretch her legs and run.
She lay in her bed tossing and turning like a load of laundry, feeling the moonlight streaming in delicately through her window calling to her. She toyed with the idea of sneaking out, wondering if she really had it in her to be so thoughtlessly reckless twice in one night. One of her calves started to cramp, and her mind was made up. Tossing off her bedsheets, she made her way out of her room and down the stairs of the tower. She was unsurprised but a bit disheartened to see her brother blearily sitting by the fireplace waiting for her.
She sat next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder and sniffed "You know you can't come with me, right? I need to run" she whispered softly and sadly. He nodded and patted the top of her head "I know, but I'll be here until you get back" he said stubbornly. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and shifted, letting him open and shut the painting for her and licking his hand in thanks as she crept through the hole out into the corridor.
She silently slunk down and down and down through the castle, easily avoiding Mr Filch and a professor she didn't recognize who was doing rounds. She passed by floating ghosts and chatty portraits, nearly invisible in the shadows. The front doors presented a minor problem as she didn't currently have hands. She sat down on her hindquarters staring at them for a moment, wondering if she should shift back to open them or if doing so would risk blowing her cover. Just as she was about to try nosing them open, a hand reached past her and opened the door. She startled and looked up and back behind her - it was professor Snape!
He looked down at her curiously, one eyebrow arched high and the faintest hint of amusement around his eyes and mouth. They tilted their heads at each other at the same time and he actually laughed "Don't be too long, my Lady" he warned and gestured for her to go outside. She yipped softly, spun in a quick tight circle, licked his hand in thanks, and then rushed out.
She darted across the lawn at full speed like a blur, eating up the ground under her as she made her way for the tree line. When she finally reached the edge of the wood she felt her breath come more easily and something that had been tight under her skin relaxed. She shook herself out a bit, and trotted at a much more sedate pace. This was an exploratory mission, she was introducing herself to the neighbors, there was no need for speed here.
Picking up skittering scuttling noises on the edge of her range of hearing and the sharply astringent non-mammalian scent of many large insects, and recalling what Neville had said earlier about spiders in the forest, she uneasily changed course away from the direction she had been heading. She did not want to find out just how big giant spiders could actually get when left alone to colonize a wild environment.
She had been around enough trees to know that these ones were ancient, many of their trunks were nearly as big around or bigger than a car. Their canopies reached unimaginably high above her head into the dark sky above. It was a relatively clear night, and though the foliage above her head was dense she could see and feel the waxing moon's light shining on her fur.
Enjoying the feeling of the night breeze ruffling her coat and getting a little side tracked following the trail of a rabbit she had caught on to, she was quite surprised when an arrow twanged past her head and lodged itself deeply into the bark of a nearby tree. She yelped as it had only barely missed her, and spun around with a snarl on her lips to see who had dared to attack her while she was minding her own business and bothering no one.
Expecting to hear the soft footfalls of a hunter, she was shocked to instead hear the clopping of hoofbeats. A horse in the woods? When an elegantly lithe black-haired black-coated centaur stallion made his way out into the open through the underbrush, she was so thunderstruck that she sat down heavily on her hindquarters, jaw hanging agape. She was suddenly reminded of one of Ófnir's many aphorisms - when you hear hoofbeats don't think zebra, think horse. She'd let him know just how unhelpful that had been the next time she saw him.
Two other stallions followed the first into the clearing, a redheaded roan and a blonde palomino, and they circled around her like a wagon train. As amusing as it was at first, she quickly felt extremely vulnerable surrounded on all sides as she was - despite his beauty and the grace of his movements, this centaur had just shot at her with his bow. Who did he think he was?!
She glanced at the arrow sticking out of the tree next to her and sniffed, noting that it had a sticky sour smell to it. His arrows were tipped with some kind of poison! Suddenly she was angry, they may not realize it but she was a child and they were clearly adults. She rose to all fours and stood defensively on the very pads of her toes, ready to lunge and snap at the slightest unkind look. The palomino male slowly came closer and raised his hands towards her palms out, like she was a spooked… well, horse. She refused to laugh at her own great joke, this was serious!
He shushed her and hummed softly "It is the wrong phase of the moon for you to be in your wolf skin, wild one. Are you hurt or stuck? Has one of the humans done this to you?" He asked tentatively. If she had eyebrows as a wolf she would have raised them at that, and taking a leap of faith she allowed herself to shift back into her two-legged form so she might talk to them.
The other two both reared back and the black coated one shouted, but the palomino only smiled with bright and astounded eyes. He came even closer and knelt down awkwardly onto his forelegs right next to her, waving his arm dismissively backwards at his fellows. They came over as well but stayed standing with their arms crossed anxiously and frowns etched deeply into their faces.
"Our priestess has read the stars and they have long foretold your coming. I am Firenze. How have you done this thing, child, and where do you come from?" He asked gently, fascination clear in his voice. She smiled at him and tilted her head at the other two, waiting until they begrudgingly lowered themselves to the ground to speak "I am Hermione. I was born to an alpha werewolf and his heart's only mate, and am thus a trueborn wolf. I have shifted every moon of my life, and can do so whenever I please. Our pack lives in Wales, and I've just come here to go to school in the castle," she said as primly and politely as if she were at one of Narcissa's tea parties, ignoring the fact that she was sitting cross-legged in the dirt in her nightgown.
"The other wolves in my pack cannot shift freely as I do, but are all docile during the moon due to the peace and acceptance in their hearts that they bear for their nature. They need none of the poison potion the humans would have them drink or silver chains the humans would have them wrapped up in. They run and chase and hunt, but never attack or bite a human or other sentient being. This I swear on my magic," she intoned seriously to the centaurs amazement as shimmery green sparkles rained down around her.
The other two who had been eyeing her distrust fully seemed at the very least pacified by this, and leaned in with more open faces "You need not have done that, child" said the roan "for we have heard tell of your pack and the good reputation of your father and his wolves" this startled her. She angled her body towards him "Really - from whom? Among the human wizards someone has been spreading terrible lies and ruining my father's reputation for at least a decade! They call him a bloodthirsty killer. We have only recently learned of it - everyone we meet is terrified of him, and of my brother and I by extension," she said earnestly and sadly.
She would never repeat the thought aloud, but in her opinion the roan and black stallions made remarkably horse-like noises upon hearing that information. "Humans are fickle fools, they will change their minds like the wind blows and yet blindly hold fast to their most ridiculous notions. Pay them no mind, child," said the roan matter-of-factly, leaving no room for argument. The palomino Firenze made a noise much like a whinny, and she bit her tongue hard to hold back a giggle "How does that help her Magorian? She must live with the humans, she cannot simply ignore them all," he argued.
He had a point, and she said so. They debated it for a while, whether humans could ever really be trusted, and she told them about how supportive her house mates had proven themselves to be just earlier that evening. They considered this, and Bane the black stallion argued that children were a different kind of human than their adult counterparts. More open minded in general, but less likely to stay flexible as they grew up. Apparently many generations of magical human children had found them in their forest, all promising to do their four-legged friends a better turn than their parents, only to eventually either forget or abandon the lofty ideals of their youth once they themselves were adults.
She wasn't surprised that other children would have explored the forest, and it even made sense that they would have stumbled upon the centaurs at some point if they had. She was rather thrown for a loop at hearing others had claimed to want to help but hadn't ever actually done anything. She glanced between her companions "Do you think they won't really honor the pledges of support they made my brother and I to help get our pack mates admission to the school?" She asked, feeling as if perhaps she'd naively gotten her hopes up only to have them dashed. Firenze placed his hand gently on her shoulder, shaking his head.
"Though you and I are more alike to each other than either of us are to them, they will always see us centaurs as mere creatures who have risen above our station and you werewolves as humans struggling with an affliction. That is the simple truth of the matter. They will help you instinctively where they would never think twice to help us," he said, and as encouragingly as he clearly meant his words to be they weighed on her like anchors. She felt the injustice tangibly - to be arbitrarily reduced to either a talking animal or elevated to a human with a condition, solely on the preponderance of legs one possessed. She felt as if she were going to cry, and then realized she already was.
To her surprise all three of them shushed and comforted her, not just Firenze. The other two were kinder than they had at first had appeared "It's a heavy burden to bear, knowing the magnitude of their casual disdain," Magorian said with the regal bearing of a king in exile "when one considers their capacity for kindness towards each other, it feels all the crueler," and she nodded emphatically, wiping at her nose and eyes. "I had no idea until just this last year, dad kept us so safe and isolated at home. Apparently you can kill a werewolf in broad daylight and if you claim it was self defense you won't even be charged with a crime. We don't even have to be transformed!" She told them, and more tears fell and her nose started to feel stuffed up. They looked alarmed by this.
She panted through her mouth, her nose thoroughly closed up and utterly useless for breathing "My friend Gornuk told me that the goblins have it terrible as well - if one of them is killed by a wizard it's considered property damage because they're all bank employees. My brother Harry and I are going to try and help them in their upcoming rebellion, and we spoke to the house elves in the kitchens over the weekend and they agreed to help as well. There's something funny going on with them though, do you know anything about the geas they're under? It must be some kind of spell, it kept them from telling us certain things. They were only able to even let us know about it because we're technically not humans," she said, not failing to notice the very pointed eye contact Bane and Magorian were making. Or the very noticeable uptick in their heartbeats.
Firenze however looked like the stars were in his eyes, and he grinned ecstatically "Young Hermione, what you speak of is reminiscent of the great alliances of old, from the times of Merlin and Morgana and the founders of the very castle you reside in. Werewolves, goblins, house elves, centaurs, and even magical humans all working together towards a common goal and a shared purpose. The last time all of our races were united we did great and wonderful things. We created the concord of Avalon-" he was cut off harshly by Bane "Firenze! Even to a friend you reveal too much," the other centaur scolded, rising to his feet and stomping his front hooves menacingly.
"Calm yourself," an angelic voice commanded blisteringly, carrying through the brush "but he is right Firenze, speak not another word of those times and those deeds," said a centaur woman with a velvety coat of gleaming luminous silver. Bone white hair fell in waves down to her hips, and her tail was the same color. As she entered the clearing the radiant light of midday came with her, nearly blinding Hermione as her eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness of night. She blinked hard and rubbed at her eyes to clear them, and her jaw dropped when she could see again. From the center of the woman's forehead a spiraling glimmering pearlescent horn protruded, nearly two feet long if it was an inch.
Hermione felt as if she should be kneeling in the woman's presence, and then realized she already was. She looked at the other centaurs and they were knelt as well, heads down and bent as close to prostrate as their anatomy would allow. "My lady, your arrival honors us," said Firenze lightly and cheerfully, but oddly without raising his head or looking at the woman "allow me to introduce young Hermione, our werewolf friend," he said with a little flourish in her direction. She waved awkwardly, unintentionally making eye contact with the woman and gasping at what she saw there.
Her ancient and ageless eyes were like galaxies, and stars and nebulas and all celestial things imaginable were contained within. Those eyes were as brilliant and colorful as they were cold and empty and dark. She felt a tug and realized she was walking forward with her hands outstretched, desperate to touch that shining silvery coat if only for a single moment, even if it killed her. Hermione's vision swam and she shook her head wildly and forced herself to stagger backwards at the last minute. She looked up from the ground where she had fallen on her rump at the woman's feet… hooves.
The woman had an enigmatic little smile on her face, and to her astonishment hadn't moved an inch despite being lunged at by an entranced werewolf child. She cleared her throat nervously "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me!" she croaked, her voice breaking to her utter humiliation. She was sure her face was beet red. She wished a giant spider would crawl out of the underbrush and carry her away from this beautiful person whose presence she didn't belong in.
To her thrilled delight the woman reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her back up to her feet "I have that effect on others sometimes, it's not your fault" she said carelessly, not letting go of her hands. The woman's hands were enormous and made her own look like a baby's in their grip. They were deathly cold to the touch, in direct and jarring contrast to how tactile and warm the woman seemed. This close up her voice was layered like a full church choir, and it nearly bowled Hermione over. "What- no sorry, who… are you?" She heard herself say, to her mortification. The woman only laughed and it rang clear like bells. She was sure it could be heard from miles and miles away.
The woman pulled her close and touched her forehead, running two icy cold fingers along the center of it over and over in the shape of a crescent "We have both been touched by the moon, little sister. Out of all the magical mortals on this earthly plane, she has chosen the two of us to be her champions; I as her voice, and you as her sword. We have a great deal of work ahead of us, but it is work that only we can do. There will be a battle of hearts and minds, and a war of blood and beasts. You'll be pulled in many different directions, and you'll have to remember who you serve first. Who is your master?" She asked her enigmatically, and Hermione was so spellbound by her voice and the cadence of her words that it took a moment to realize she had been asked a question.
She considered it, trying to remember her childhood lessons "Dad and Ófnir say we serve the goddesses of the moon above all else; Lady Selene of the full moon, Lady Artemis of the half moon, and Lady Hekate of the dark moon. They say that other than them we have no earthly master, and that wolves are supposed to run wild and free. Are they my masters? Am I my own master?" She asked tentatively, certain she had said the wrong thing.
To her great relief the woman seemed quite pleased "A very good answer, one I couldn't have given for you. Indeed, you can both serve our goddesses and be your own master. In truth I believe they would have it no other way," the woman said, leaning in close and whispering conspiratorially as if they were sharing a secret, and then pressing their noses together and giggling. Hermione couldn't help but giggle as well, a bubbly feeling rising in her chest as if she were in close quarters with a star.
"Please won't you tell me your name?" she whispered breathlessly back to the ethereal creature before her, desperate to know even a single thing about her. The woman blinked and the corners of her eyes crinkled "I am Amalthea, and we two are as one from now until the day our goddesses call us home to them," she said with a lovely and kind smile. A flash of light even brighter than what radiated ambiently from her silvery coat erupted from the tip of her horn, and Hermione felt a brush of something on her forehead that was both searingly hot and bitterly cold at the same time.
"Now you should be able to see the beautiful mark the goddesses bestowed upon you. Come back another night little sister, and the centaurs of the forest will tell you all you wish to know about the tragic curse the house elves are under. They will tell you of a wolf who lives in this forest who has been waiting a very long time to meet you. They will regale you with tales of the times long long before now, of Merlin and Morgana and the founders and your ancestors. They will even tell you of Avalon, but only when you are within the privacy of their village. For now though, it is very late and you are very young, and you are missed back at your castle. Put on your fur and run with me, and I will guide you back safely to your dwelling" she said, cupping Hermione's face in her huge hands and running the pads of her thumbs over her cheekbones.
She nodded and the shimmer of green magic that washed over her as she shifted was bolstered by Amalthea's glowing light. Her shift was as quick and as smooth as breathing, more seamless and effortless than ever before, even more so than the other night in the kitchens with the elves. She felt stronger and somehow larger, and noted that where even the very tops of her ears normally wouldn't have come up to the centaurs bellies, now she felt nearly as tall at the shoulder as they were at their backs. She looked down at her paws, and when she pulled one up off of the ground the footprint it left behind looked absolutely huge.
"Stars above, but she was certainly not that size an hour ago!" Firenze crowed delightedly "Your magic has combined most harmoniously, my lady. The goddesses work is visible before us," he added and the other stallions muttered their agreement. She looked back up at Amalthea and was yet again thunderstruck to see a true unicorn standing before her. The spectacular creature winked, and she realized she was not the only shape-shifter in the forest. The moon really had blessed them both! Without thinking she licked the unicorn's muzzle, to Bane and Magorian's loud protests and Firenze's horse-like laughter. Amalthea only whinnied softly, and then took off.
Hermione followed her all the way back to the edge of the forest, and it was a much faster and less circuitous journey than it had been on her own. When they reached the tree line she transformed back into her human body to hug the unicorn's neck tightly "Thank you," she whispered into her butter soft mane. She laughed to realize Amalthea was nibbling on her hair, and reached up and stroked her enormous cheek "Will I ever see you again? Can I bring my brother to meet you?" She asked desperately, and her heart filled with joy as the unicorn nodded her head up and down exaggeratedly several times.
She shifted back and darted across the lawn again up to the castle, and when she got there the door was cracked ajar for her. No wonder the professor had told her not to be long! She looked back out and saw Amalthea was still there at the tree line standing watch over her, and her heart soared with affection for the woman. She wagged her tail extra hard so that it could be seen from a good distance, and the unicorn reared up on her hind legs before running off into the dark woods, her light still visible for a few seconds after she was gone.
A voice from inside the doorway startled her "Just what in Salazar's name have you been doing out there?" professor Snape snarked mildly, but his voice was breathless and his wide eyes were locked on where Amalthea had been standing. When he could bring himself to tear his gaze away he jolted and his eyes narrowed in her direction "You're bigger than when you left… Why are you bigger than when you left?" He demanded, and she whined and ducked her head. It was unsuccessful though, as she realized now that she was standing next to him and paying attention that their eye level was roughly the same.
It should not have been anywhere near the same.
When she left the castle earlier that evening her shifted form had been approximately the size of a golden retriever or maybe a German shepherd. Now standing next to him she was able to very quickly determine that she was currently roughly the size of a horse. She wondered if it was permanent. Letting her magic wash over her, it sparked and shimmered brighter and greener than normal as she shifted back to her human form. She looked down at her hands and then up at her professor angrily towering above her and sighed in relief that she was still human Hermione sized.
"You were gone for nearly an hour! I thought I was simply letting you out to have a wee on one of Hagrid's pumpkins, or perhaps to chase a rabbit. Explain!" he demanded, not harshly but very intently. She wrung her hands a bit "In my defense I did chase a rabbit for a good while, but then I met some centaurs and got blessed by a very friendly unicorn," she said with a helpless shrug. Remembering Amalthea's words she pushed her fringe off of her forehead, and heard her professor sharply inhale "Does it look any different, sir? She said she was going to make something visible that was already there."
"Gods be- well rather goddesses be good. It's the mark of the triple aspect goddess. You said she spoke to you? How did a unicorn speak?" He asked, his eyes wide and his face was open in clear wonder. She was about to answer when he shook his head slightly and seemed to come back to himself "Never mind, I don't need to know. Playing with unicorns in the forest at night, Merlin's beard… You won't be able to sneak back up quite as stealthily as you did before, so you might as well follow me" he said not unkindly, and headed back into the castle without another word.
He escorted her through the entrance hall, up the grand staircase all the way to the seventh floor, and to the portrait of the fat lady who was snoring and whose cup of wine was just about to spill over onto her ample bosom. He tapped the frame and it swung open, and he gestured for her to climb in. She did, but not before earnestly expressing her gratitude "Thank you for letting me out professor Snape, even though you thought I only needed a bark and a wee" she said with a cheeky grin, and he nodded and smiled a very small amused smile.