6

3,778Chapter 6: Transfiguration

Chapter 6: Transfiguration

Mouse. Snuffbox. Match to needle. Transfiguration alphabet.

Hermione scrawled the entire alphabet backwards and forwards on the notebook in front of her and then wrote out the entire transformation formula in it. "The intended transformation is directly influenced by body weight, viciousness, wand power, concentration, and one element of the unknown."

Hermione glared at the formula. A transformation done in anger, provided you could keep your concentration, had the potential of being a very strong spell. Hermione recited the formula in her head. It was the same every year she had to teach Minerva's first years, and every year, someone would botch it up in a way that somehow created mouse-tailed snuffboxes, match headed animals, or some combination of bizarre.

Hermione tapped her wand against the table, transfiguring the mouse in front of her into a tortoise and then the tortoise into a teapot. All of this was done as she doodled the transfiguration pyramid in detail. She'd drawn the same diagram on many a chalkboard before class. Then, as if to calm herself, she turned the teapot into a rabbit and began to stroke the animal with her hand as she continued to doodle on her notebook.

All of this was done while the class was struggling to turn a matchstick into a needle. Hermione huffed, closed her notebook, and cleared off her desk. She turned all of the needles on her desk into matchsticks and built a matchstick bridge that looked like the entrance to Hogwarts. She sighed and waved her wand, turning them all back into needles, which fell into a pile on her desktop.

Eyes were upon her, and she felt them piercing into her. She cast Severus a side-long glance. Sagacity turned his head to the side to peer at the black-haired wizard as well, hooting loud enough to startle half the class.

He furrowed his brows, asking an assortment of silent questions. She cast him an arched eyebrow directly out of the future Severus Snape Handbook of Inquistive Eyebrow Arches. Hermione realised in that odd moment of perpetuity that she had learned such mannerisms from unintentionally assimilating her Potion's Professor's expressions directly from his portrait. She, in turn, was using them on the younger Severus Snape, who would then grow up to be the man in the portrait who corrupted Minerva's apprentice with his countless acerbic and dry expressions.

Hermione scooted her chair a little closer to him. "Do you trust me, Severus?"

He looked at her with a panicked expression. Trust was obviously a trigger word for the boy.

Hermione smiled sadly. "Will you trust me, at least, for this?" she rephrased.

Severus nodded slowly, apparently appreciative that she rephrased the question.

Hermione straightened her shoulders as Professor Granger took over. "Shoulder back like this, spine straight," she said, tapping his back in a few places. "Keep your eyes forward, your wrist loose. The movement of your wand should flow easily." Hermione traced a flaming magical symbol of the wand movement in front of him. It hung in the air so he could trace it with his wand. "Keep your elbow flexible, but not as much as your wrist. Now, think of the incantation in your mind as you shape the matchstick in your mind. Now, imagine the needle and what makes it a needle. Is it a sewing needle? A carpet needle? Think, perhaps, of a bookbinder's needle, but whatever you choose, hold it in your mind and then do the motion and say the incantation."

Severus said the incantation and did the wand motion. Hermione felt the release of his magic through his wand before it slammed into the matchstick on his desk.

Pop!

A curved bookbinder needle dropped onto the desk.

Severus looked wide-eyed at the needle, starting at it as if it would leap up and turn into a dog. He looked at her with an actual smile.

Hermione grinned at him. "Great work, Severus," she encouraged.

"Miss Black," McGonagall's voice said from behind her, causing Hermione to wince. She knew that tone. It was the "what do you think you're doing?" tone, which was slightly different from the "the grading better be done" tone and the "I will not have you transfiguring my chalkboards into pachyderms in my classroom, Professor Granger" tone.

"Yes, Ma…" Hermione started to say, biting her lip as the title Master almost blurted out for all to hear. "Yes, Professor McGonagall?" she tried again.

Minerva stared at the pile of shiny needles on Hermione's desk. "That will be five points to Slytherin for your multiple needles, Miss Black. And five points to you, Mr. Snape, for your creative transfiguration of a curved needle."

Hermione made a small fist pump to Severus, and the rest of the Slytherin on their side of the room winked and pumped their fists at her.

"Miss Black," McGonagall said softly.

"Yes, Ma'am?"she said, barely saving herself from calling the elder witch her Master yet again.

"Please stay after class, if you would please," Minerva said. "I have something to discuss with you."

Hermione cringed but nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

Minerva glided away, overseeing the other students in the classroom.

Hermione shrunk down in her chair with a gulp as Severus worked on transfiguring the rest of his matches into needles.

Lily was tugging on Severus' sleeve a short time later, begging him to help her figure out where she was going wrong. Hermione smirked as Severus awkwardly attempted to teach Lily what Hermione had just taught him.

There was a small tug on sleeve from the opposite side and she turned to face them.

Sirius gave her pleading look, pointing down to his… very strangely shaped pieces of shrapnel. At least they were metal? That was a start at least.

Hermione rolled her eyes and scooted her chair over, smacking her brother on the back to straighten his posture. And so it began again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Minerva McGonagall had been teaching for a good fifteen years, and never once, even in Albus' classes, had she seen someone not only transfigure multiple objects without hesitation on the first day but also teach a fellow student.

The transformation in Miss Black was as obvious as the change of the matchstick into the needle. The Slytherin girl had straightened her posture, tapped her fellow on the back to correct his posture, traced the wand movement into the air so he could trace it, and guided him through the visualisation and incantation in a way that screamed a kind of familiarity and comfort with magic seventh years facing their N.E.W.T.s might have difficulty with. It wasn't that the magic as impossible or extraordinary that was amazing. What was amazing was the fact a first year was doing it.

The child's desk was stacked in a virtual haystack of needles, and Minerva had not missed the cascade of random spells that had come before it. Tortoises to teapots, mice into snuffboxes, and teapot to rabbit were all spells that were not expected of a first year on their first day.

This… Hermione Black was now teaching one of her own lion cubs, clearly not caring that they were in a rival House. She tapped their back, corrected their posture, gave them a movement to trace, and stared at them with a familiar method Minerva knew well. It was her own teaching method staring back at her, reflected in an eleven year old witch.

Minerva found herself in a very odd predicament. She wanted to, at that very moment, snap the girl up as her formal apprentice, just like they did in the old days. It didn't matter that she was Slytherin. She knew talent when she saw it. What was even more disturbing, was that she was willing to do this without Albus even being told. She didn't want to chance that the Headmaster would find some reason to deny it, and she knew exactly why he would: she was not Gryffindor, and Albus, despite all the good things he had done in his life, was guilty of a kind of blind favouritism when it came to his old House.

But this young witch, Hermione Black, tugged on something in Minerva that was almost painful. She watched the huge eagle owl cuddling up to his Mistress as she fussed over her book and while she was teaching her fellow students. The girl had beginnings of a true familiar. All the signs pointed to someone with the kind of self control required to "survive" an apprenticeship while keeping up with other schoolwork.

But would she want to? That was the question that needed answering and answers she would have soon, so help her, even if she had to paint the halls of Hogwarts plaid.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Have a seat, Miss Black," Minerva said. She pulled out her trusty tea service and poured tea for them both. She opened a jar with a collection of biscuits, gesturing for her to partake of them.

"Have I done something to displease you, Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked nervously.

"No, child," Minerva said, looking at her strangely. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I…" Hermione stared into her teacup. "Because I'm Slytherin."

McGonagall let out her breath slowly. "Miss Black," she said after a moment. "Being Slytherin does not immediately make you displeasing to me, despite what rumours may have been flying off the broomstick in conversation. And while we all have a soft spot, perhaps, for those of our House affiliation, it is what we do with ourselves that make our reputation. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, sipping her tea. "Yes, ma'am."

"You seem to be very bright and talented, witch, my dear," Minerva said. "Ahead of your age in regards to skill. I would hate to see it wasted on things that seem terribly remedial. I have not taught Transfiguration for over a decade to miss the signs of one who is up for more of a challenge than most."

Hermione dared to look up, and saw that McGonagall was looking at her intently, sternly, but not unkindly. It was the face she missed painfully when her memories of her past surged up and demanded to be remembered. She had been bound by magic and emotion to the elderly witch in her own time. It had been more than just friendship. A part of their souls had been intertwined in a magic older than what could be learnt from books: Minerva as her Master and she as her Apprentice. She could not help but miss it, even now, as Hermione Black. Minerva had been a Wizarding mother to her when she had sorely needed it, and Hermione had been the daughter the Scottish witch had never had by birth. It had healed them both.

"Hermione," Minerva's voice had said. "Ron may wake up some day and realised what he let slip through his fingers, but that does not mean you have to wait for him. Live your life. Love the things you love. And sometimes, when you least expect it, a door opens you never thought to see."

Hermione snapped her head up as Minerva's words to her after a long crying session in the Headmistress' office had Hermione in tears and Minerva ready to march straight to the Burrow and give a certain Weasley a piece of her mind and her wand. Even Severus Snape's portrait snarled something about "if he had a body, there would a few choice hexes he'd have been happy to teach Ronald Weasley in practicum." To Snape's portrait's credit, however, he had taught Hermione the hexes to be used "whenever the mood struck." Hermione had been flattered, oddly enough, that the brooding old Potion Master had a sort of protective teaching demeanour towards her after his physical death.

"What do you wish of me, Ma…," Hermione bit her lip to stifle the automatic use of Master. "Ma'am?"

"I wish to offer you a chance to train under me during your career here at Hogwarts, Miss Black," Minerva said softly. "You would be an Apprentice of Transfiguration. It would be my duty to teach you the subtleties of Transfiguration that most students do not have the heart or dedication to learn. It would be yours to learn, and by the time you reach the end of your seventh year, you will have gained your Mastery years before those taken only after graduation. It would mean a lot of extra work, off hours, and after your normal coursework is done in your other classes. I think, however, you would be well suited for the task, if your skill in my own class is any indicator."

Hermione's heart practically leapt out of her chest. "Do I have time to think upon it, Professor?"

Minerva's eyes softened. "Of course, child. "Take a few weeks to get acclimatised to the school and get a feel as to what you are willing to take on. Let me know in a month's time as to what you wish to do, whether it be to accept or not."

Hermione nodded silently, downing the last of her tea in a gulp.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, her stomach threatening to run right up her oesophagus and slap her upside the face with nerves. "I will let you know."

McGonagall gave a small smile. "I look forward to your answer, Miss Black," she replied softly.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hermione," whined Lily, bouncing up and down on her heels. "Come onnnnn." Lily grabbed the black-haired witch by the wrist and tugged on her.

"Guaah," Hermione managed to get out as the red-head dragged Hermione in one arm and Severus in the other.

"I found a perfect place to have a picnic lunch!" Lily announced.

Severus and Hermione exchanged glances as they were being dragged behind the hyper Gryffindor witch.

Hermione, feeling like she was watching a younger version of herself, sputtered until Lily finally released her. There was a glorious old oak on the edge of shore overlooking Black Lake, and it was positioned just right to get a healthy bed of moss under its canopy. Lily was right. It was a perfect place to have a picnic.

"I grabbed a bunch of food from the Great Hall and stuffed it into the picnic basket," Lily said with a grin, flopping down in the comfy moss as she set down her picnic basket.

"Aren't you the budding miscreant?" Severus quipped, sitting down.

Lily pfted, shoving Severus on the shoulder. "Eat your sandwich, Severus," she admonished. She looted a red and green striped apple from the basket and bit into it, causing a cascade of juice to run down her chin as she ate it.

"We have potions next," Severus said as he poked through the picnic basket and seemed to find something he could settle on. He lifted a sandwich out of the basket and handed it to Hermione before diving into the wicker looking for another. "What do you have, Lily?"

"Potions too!" Lily said. "I wonder if that means we are in the same class or if there are more than one potions class."

"I think that means we are having class together," Hermione said, staring out over the lake. The squid had his tentacles extended up out of the water, making it look like he was waving to something off shore.

"Ooo, that sounds exciting," Lily confessed. "I read through the entire book. It looks like get to learn about Forgetfullness potions and poison antidotes as well as something called the Awakening potion."

Severus and Hermione shot Lily the same look at the same time.

"What?" Lily whined. "It sounds exciting!"

"Just boggling that you read through the entire book before class, Lily," Severus grunted. "Not that I haven't, but you normally fixate on more whimsical reading material."

"Psh," Lily huffed. "I'll have you know, it was perfectly fascinating, It helped me wind down to sleep."

"I fear I don't remember much about last night. My head hit the pillow, and sleep swallowed me up," Hermione confessed.

"That doesn't surprise me," Lily sniffed. "After how well you took up Transfiguration, you probably have little concern about Potions."

Hermione smirked, smacking her feet into Lily's until they had a foot war, playfully pushing back and forth at each other's feet.

"What did Professor McGonagall want with you, anyway?" Severus asked. "Did she not like you tutoring people in her class?"

"Far from it," Hermione said, furrowing her brows. "She…" the trailed off into the distance awkwardly. "She wants to take me on as her Apprentice."

"Apprentice!" Lily squeaked. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"How am I to know what is it is you think, Lily Evans?" Hermione huffed. "I am not a tenant in your brain."

Lily giggled. "You sound like Severus," she said in between giggles. "But, really, what would that mean?"

"Extra work outside of my other classes, I think," Hermione said. "Learning the intricacies of transfiguration."

"I think that sounds wonderful," Lily said, polishing off the apple in her hand. "You obviously have a knack for it. What about you, Sev? Are you excited about Potions class?"

Severus shrugged, playing with the wrinkles in his robes. "It sounds interesting enough, but I'm more excited about learning Defence Against the Dark Arts. We'll be learning about things like gnomes and doxies, imps and bowtruckles, and how to knockback an adversary, reveal objects hidden by the Dark arts with Verdimillious, and creating light without electricity."

"Well then, we balance out then. If any of us have problems, we can be our own specialised study group," Lily said with a grin, digging through the basket for a sandwich for herself.

"How are things," Severus asked, "in…Gryffindor?"

"Nice enough, I suppose," Lily answered. "Most of the people seem amiable enough. I'm sharing a room with Alice, Emmeline, and Marlene, and they were quite friendly to me. They've kept me protected from those boys that were together when we got off the boats."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "They haven't hurt you, have they?" she asked with a glint in her eyes.

"No!" Lily said immediately, shaking her head. "They're just… boys."

Severus' head snapped up and he looked at her with a funny look.

Lily gave him an apologetic look in return. "You know what I mean… they don't even think before they say anything. The one, his name is James, is just a real nosey parker, if you catch my meaning. His other friend, Remus, seems nice though. Shy. Your brother is a real joker, and that other guy… Peter, just follows them around like a lost puppy. Sometimes he gives you this look though, maybe it's just me… it's creepy."

Hermione shook her head. She understood it all too well. Something in the boy had triggered a visceral response in her that meeting Lucius and Narcissa had not done. "I understand," she said after a moment.

"Are you going to accept, Professor McGonagall's offer?" Severus asked, munching on a piece of cucumber with half-interest.

Hermione turned her head and looked off into the distance.

"You should," Severus said into the silence. "I'm hardly an expert on teaching, but you have the knack for it. Why not learn from one of the best? I've heard she's an animagus. That's like the ultimate accomplishment for the field, and she did it because she could, not because had a driving need to."

Hermione looked at Severus with new eyes. Her once and future Potion Master seemed sincere.

"He's right, you know," Lily said. "You practically tutored the entire class this morning. Why not do that and get credit for it?"

"By the time you graduate, you'll be more than ready to teach if that is what you want to do, Hermione," Severus agreed. "Or… take the world by storm."

Hermione lifted her head. "What would I do with the world, Severus?"

Severus' black eyes seemed to flicker with amusement. "Make it your oyster."

Hermione looked hauntingly towards black lake. The part of her who remembered a certain messy black-haired wizard and a red-headed wizard with a propensity to stuff his face while talking filled her mind. Two people, who despite their differences, had stuck together until the end, even though the end Hermione had been parted from her friends in probably the most violent betrayal possible.

"What is it, Hermione?" Lily nudged her friend.

"Will you be with me to the end?" Hermione whispered. It was a naive question, more fitting of the eleven year old than someone who know that friend dynamics changed like the tide. Sometimes there were storms. Sometimes a friendship never survived it.

Lily, however, who seemed far more loyal and confident with a list of traits that Hermione could not help but attribute to the Gryffindor House, pulled Hermione into an unconditional hug. "Of course we will," she promised.

Hermione looked into the face of Harry Potter's young mother. The young witch looked utterly sincere. The future, at that point, was certain. She would stand by her new friend until the end, whatever that might entail. Could she trust the world of an eleven year old witch? A witch who would eventually repudiate her childhood friend due to one slanderous word said in anger?

Perhaps, her remembering her "past" was a gift. Her being injected into the past had irrevocably changed the future she knew already. Would her presence here in the past have the potential to change things for the better? Or would the future be doomed to repeat itself regardless of what she tried or didn't try to do?

Hermione's inner dialogue was jarred by the soft touch of Severus' hand upon her arm. His black eyes met her grey ones with an echo of his elder self. There was determination there, and something utterly vulnerable.

"To the end," Severus said softly.

Hermione drew her friends into a hug, tears spilling from her eyes as her emotions caught up with her. It didn't matter, truly, what the future held. At this very moment, she had friends, and she promised herself she would be there for them to face their own yet unwritten future.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a few days later when Hermione finally had some time to herself where she felt she could sneak out and spread her wings a little. She waited until Severus and Lily sneaked off to the library to study together and keep each other occupied.

The dungeon, conveniently located under Black Lake, was not exactly Gryffindor Tower. There were no windows to allow her to escape directly, and a part of her missed that about her new place of residence.

Narcissa had come by with few of her friends with a tasty rumour on why Hermione's dormitory room was empty save for her. Rumour had it, and Hermione wasn't sure if it was only that, the students that were supposed to come back that year and share it with her had "strangely disappeared." Ever since then, no one wanted to share the room with Hermione, perhaps afraid that the room itself marked one for strange disappearances.

Hermione had shaken her head, but smirked to herself. She didn't mind having the room to herself for the time being. Next year, perhaps, a new group of Slytherin would arrive and fill out the beds that were, at this moment, empty.

Sagacity hooted from the nearby tree and reminded her why she was out sneaking at night when normal folks were doing… well less than shady things than she was.

"Ready for a little fly and a mission?" she asked the owl.

He hooted at her, ruffling his wings.

"This is going to be really embarrassing if I shift into a blue footed booby," Hermione said. She looked skyward. "Or a garter snake… at least the bobby could fly."

Hermione closed her eyes, calling to her the peace of mind that in turn called her form to her. With a draw of power both within herself and the energy around her, she stepped off into the Abyss and shifted.

Flames burst from the core of her body as a the shift overcame her. She felt a burble of music burst from her throat in a chain of whistles and clicks that radiated out from her.

She was fire. She was flames incarnate. She was both fury and joy. She spread her wings and took to the air with a piercing cry of reunion with her inner phoenix.

Sagacity launched into the hair and followed her, his large wings keeping beat with hers as the flames of her emotion wicked off her feathers. She banked on the currents of wind that spun around Hogwarts with Sagacity hooting his happiness to be flying in the air with his bondmate.

She felt the tendrils of his presence swirling around her. Thread after thread of energy wove them even tighter together. She felt the owl's joyous surge of pleasure at being able to share the skies with his person.

She zoomed off towards the distance mountains, a goal in her mind for what she wanted to do. By the time she landed in the snow at the peak of mountain, her plan had solidified. She flipped back into her human form, pulling a small basket out of her robes and expanding it. She leaned over into the snow covered bush and shook the branches with her hand, exposing the glowing alpine winterberries that were the pride and joy of berry lovers in the Wizarding world.

The berries were the the size of large gooseberries, but had a flavour that shifted from cherry to peach, blackberry to blueberry, and then currants to mayapple. They were rare to begin with, but the biggest reason was that they could not be cultivated. They had to be found, harvested in the wild in their element, and the bushes did what chameleons did in the animal world: hide. Bright white foliage hidden in fields of bright white snow made for fun times, but Hermione had an advantage, she was a phoenix very effective snow removing wings.

Hermione plucked the berries carefully, placing them in the basket with care, flying off to the next peak and repeating the process until she had a full basket. She shrank it down, stashing it into her robes, and took to the air,

She returned back to the home range of the Dark Forest with lazy wing beats. Sagacity hooted as he recognised the familiar territory of Hogwarts, and he keep time with her, his wing tips brushing against hers. With a whoosh of wing flaps, she landed in the middle of the woods and lit a fire in a very specific manner.

One of things that Minerva had taught her had been how to summon the centaur of the Dark Forest for parlay. The treaty between Hogwarts and the centaur was unofficial, since the Ministry treated the centaur as beasts rather than sentient creatures. It was a mistake that Minerva did not tolerate, and through working with Firenze after the war, they had ironed out a mutually beneficial agreement between Hogwarts and the centaur that did not insult the herd the way the Ministry had so many times before. One thing the centaur had taught them, was the peace fire. It was a tradition that had sprung from the early herds when one herd wished to discuss with a neighbouring herd without encroaching on territory. The peace fire was the only sure exception in the territory of any centaur herd, and Hermione and Minerva had learned the intricate construction with precision detail.

Hermione placed the bark on the fire and surrounded the fire circle with dried berries from four different plants, each symbolising the cardinal directions. Sagacity perched upon her shoulder, leaning into her with his warmth to reassure her that she was not alone. Hermione sat cross-legged by the fire, placing her hands to her knees in meditation.

It might have been minutes or hours, but hoof beats broke her from her silent meditation as the fire had turned mostly to embers.

"We arrive, phoenix foal of Hogwarts," a deep voice said in the gloom of the forest. "We have watched you land within our territory and witnessed your creation of the Peace Circle. I am Meliton, leader of the herd of the Dark Forest. Tell me yours that we might speak."

Hermione stood and bowed her head. The centaur missed little in their territory. It did not surprise her that they witnessed her transformation, but if all went well, her secret would be safe. "I am Hermione, Meliton of the Dark Forest. I come with peace in my heart that we may speak."

Meliton came by the fire. Two of his trusted stood by his side, flanking him. "This is Solon and Theron."

Hermione bowed her head to each. "Peace to you, Solon and Theron."

The pair nodded to her, curiosity in their gazes.

"What brings you to our forest, Hermione of Hogwarts?" Meliton asked. "As I recall, your elders would have you believe the forest is full of dangers you are unprepared for."

Hermione smirked. "I fear my elders do not know I am here, Meliton. I come for my own ends and my own beginnings."

Meliton gave a small nod, jerking his head towards Solon and Theron, who relaxed and took up places beside the fire in a more casual manner.

"What would you ask of us, Hermione of Hogwarts? I will admit to curiosity of a foal that speaks like a centaur and knows our ways well enough to light the fire of peace."

"I come asking for permission of passage through your forest, Meliton, that I may hunt within your territory that my stomach may not go empty. I pledge that if there anything I might hunt that you or your people may find of use and I am sated, I will bring it to you that it may not go to waste. If there is danger that threatens, I will share it, that you may not go in ignorance. I bring to you a gift, as evidence of my prowess, that I will not hunt without purpose or wound my prey and leave it injured."

"What you ask is to be welcomed as one of our own, Hermione of Hogwarts," Meliton said. "What do you bring to us that would strengthen our herd?"

Hermione gestured to the basket by the fire.

Meliton approached the fire and took the basket in his hands, pulling the cloth off the top of it to peer within. "Winterberries?" the centaur said softly.

Hermione nodded. "I bring to you my skill as a hunter, that joined we may never go hungry. I bring to you my magic, that it may protect those who are my allies. I bring to you my oath, that I will protect the herd as my own."

"The snow is still upon them," he said after a bit. "So I know you did not buy them in the human settlement…"

The centaur gazed into the basket of winterberries and seemed to ponder something deeply. With a ritualistic gesture he took a berry from the basket and held it out to her.

Hermione, knowing what he desired, took a bite from it, leaving him the other half. She chewed and swallowed, juice dripping off her chin.

Meliton took the rest and mouthed the rest, eating it. "Be welcome in our forest, Hermione of Hogwarts. Hunt freely to ease your hunger and remember us when your stomach is full." He pulled a medallion off from his neck. "Will you take the mark of our herd, that we might recognise you in peace and in war?"

"This I do freely," Hermione said formally. "May the time we share be of peace, but if war rises in the stars, may we stand as allies in the face of danger." Hermione privately thanked Firenze for the days he spend drilling the formal words into her brain.

She tilted her head to the side, and Meliton dangled the medallion into the embers. He pressed the medallion behind her ear, and a searing pain came over her as it burned the mark into her scalp.

Tears came to her eyes with the pain, but Meliton pulled a plant out from one of his pouches, chewed it for a moment, then pressed it to the burn. Almost immediately, the pain was gone, and a cool feeling chased the pain away.

"The stars and planets witness your mark, Hermione of Hogwarts, and they witness your rebirth," Meliton said with a rumble. "Be welcome amongst our herd and our territory, hunter phoenix and foal of Hogwarts. Come, put your hand upon my back and I will guide you to meet the herd."

Thanking Firenze profusely again in her head for teaching her the intricacies of the herd formalities and formal words, Hermione did as she was told and placed her hand upon the honey-coloured centaur's back and followed them deeper into the forest.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time Hermione flew back towards Hogwarts, her head was full of new faces she did not recognise from her own time. Even the centaur whose names she did recognise, were now young and inexperienced. Magorian was but a young centaur that counted his moons the same as she. Firenze, too, was a young colt who gazed up at the stars with the wonderment of youth and the innocence of one whose herd had never turned upon him for betraying his herd to humans.

What was different for her? The part of her that was Hermione Ankaa Black asked the question. She knew the formal words, she answered herself. Professor Hermione Granger bore the mark of the Dark Forest herd behind her ear, now just as Hermione Ankaa Black did. The elder Magorian had marked Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall after the war, bringing a long-lasting pace between the centaur and Hogwarts. It also helped that she was an animagus. That put her in a place that allowed respect more so than a "normal human." It was the centaur's version of racial bias, but at least in the centaur's case, she could understand where the hard feelings had come from. The Ministry had done nothing to encourage good relations amongst humans and centaurs.

Hermione disillusioned herself as she hit the corridors of Hogwarts, hurrying along the corridors and slipping down into the dungeons without incident. Argus Filch was yet to be employed at Hogwarts, and it was a relief that he and his familiar were not patrolling the hallways looking for people like her.

As she made herself appear once more and muttered the password to the blank wall and she slipped into the abandoned common room and around the corridor to the female dorms. Sagacity flew to his perch by her bed with a soft hoot, grateful to be home.

She eyed the scroll on her bedside desk and unrolled it, staring at the flowing script of Minerva McGonagall. Her acceptance or denial of Minerva's offer of Apprenticeship lay waiting for her signature on the appropriate line of yea or nay. Would she tie herself to the Scottish witch once more? Was there ever any doubt what her answer would be?

Hermione picked the quill up from her desk and dipped it on the ink well, signing the scroll. She rolled it up and lit one of the wax sticks on her desk, dripping the sealing wax over the scroll. She took off her signet ring and pressed it into the cooling wax before putting the ring back on her finger.

She held the scroll out for Sagacity, and he hooted, flinging himself off the perch to grasp the scroll in his talons and carry it off.

By the time she had changed and readied herself for bed, the owl had returned, and he buttered her up for an owl nut or three.

Hermione chuckled, stroking the eagle owl on his back and burrowing under the covers for bed. She fell asleep to the soft hoots of Sagacity in the dark of the room, a smile on her face.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: So sleepy… and it's only 9pm. What's wrong with me?! AHHH! Next update is going to be on the Looks story, since the stories are sharing joint custody of my brain. More like hijacking my brain…

I will admit, when I was writing the part where Severus and Lily promise to be there for Hermione till the end, I was a little weepy emotionally. Sometimes… scenes just grab you by the heart and shake you, and that was one for me!

Have a glorious rest of the weekend, folks!