As The Falcon Hath Her Bells: Taking Flight

Chapter Eleven

It was a Friday evening in mid-September, and they were together in the workroom in companionable silence. Snape had dragged in a minor project of his own so that he had something else to do besides stand there and stare as Hermione quite competently fended for herself, but for the occasional question.She was, after all, still in the relatively easy stage of making a large batch of Forgetfulness Potion as a base for her research.

He stared at the Asclepio Potion, a powerful pain-reliever.He was trying to improve it a bit, hoping to find a way dull the pain of the Dark Mark a little further.True, he couldn't get rid of the damnable thing: he needed it to know when the Death Eaters were being called for a meeting so he could go spy on them.But although the pain was dulled in his falcon state, if he looked at the inside of his left wing near the tip, there was a faint pale-colored blotch against the midnight color of the feathers that throbbed painfully like sharply pressing a healing bruise.A blotch in the rough shape of a skull with a serpent for a tongue: it seemed the Dark magic of the Mark was so profound he couldn't escape it even with a shape-shift.

The pain, of course, only got worse the closer he got to Voldemort. Sitting right outside the window at Malfoy Manor, with the Dark Lord right inside had it aching quite acutely.And he couldn't concentrate and remember what was being said as well as he should have when he was sitting there with gritted teeth--well, gritted beak.Thank Heavens Tosca was there as well and could recall some of the words and nuances he missed in a haze of pain.

He added mulberry leaf to the potion.The trouble was finding a painkiller that wouldn't make him woozy or sleepy.He needed his wits about him.He looked over his shoulder where Miss Granger was diligently adding the week's portion of macaw feather.

He truly enjoyed these sessions--working over their cauldrons sometimes in companionable silence, sometimes exchanging ideas and such with a freedom that could never be found in Potions class.He had grown to respect her mind, at least--the glowing reports from all her other professors hadn't merely been the work of a successful teacher's pet.Her idea was better than many the Ministry idiots could come up with, and her determination and work ethic were commendable, to say the least.Thus he treated her as an intellectual equal in those hours together.In class, of course, he had a reputation to upkeep, and he knew she wouldn't want him to favor her there.He knew all too well the nasty rumors that would spring from that.

"I'm eighteen today," she said suddenly.He barely caught the words as he put in extract of hedgehog spine.

"Oh?"When he was eighteen, he had been burning with rage and injustice of seven years at Hogwarts and all too eager to listen to those would promised him power."Happy Birthday, Miss Granger," he said idly, as much to pacify her as anything else, uncertain of what she wanted in saying that.Why had she said it?

"Thank you, sir," she said.She smiled a bit sadly."Ron forgot, and Harry had Quidditch all day in preparation for the match with Ravenclaw, so he's forgotten as well."Her tone bespoke volumes about the simple wistful yearning for somebody to know and care that she was a year older now.That was probably her reason, then.

He grimaced.Not that anyone had cared when he was at Hogwarts, or even now.He doubted anybody besides Dumbledore would know that he would be thirty-seven in two months."Shall I find some pretense for Potter and Weasley to spend detention slicing and drying Yarak eyeballs by hand, Miss Granger?" he asked with a smirk."I do have a supply needing it, and a shortage of miscreants right now."Nobody had managed to get up to too much mischief since classes began two weeks before.

"No, no," she said hastily, turning back to her cauldron.He returned to the potion, as it now required being stirred for ten minutes without rest, adding willow bark every two minutes."Oh, sir?I need the Jynx tooth now, and you know it needs to be fresh from the jar."Jynx tooth crumbled quickly when exposed to the air.

Jynx parts were ingredients set firmly in his office away from general student use."My office is unlocked," he said, continuing to stir.The office adjoined this, one of two main workrooms."I can't leave the potion, so please just go fetch it yourself.It will be on the fifth shelf down, third row from the right, and it's the second jar back.Dark blue glass, with a brass lid."The blue glass and storage at the back of the shelf was to keep light from tainting the teeth as well.

He knew his own system backward and forward, but it would drive others mad trying to find something.He kept stirring, adding in willow bark again.After all, she was Gryffindor; quite trustworthy.He could turn his back and put blind faith in her honor, as he couldn't with a Slytherin.They'd probably nick all sorts of things to brew God knew what.

* * * * *

Hermione stepped carefully into the office, turning to the vast array of shelves.Jars of all shapes, sizes, and colors stood there in a riotous array.Their labels were written in a foreign alphabet--possibly Greek or Russian.He had mentioned he had a complex system and labels that not many could decipher, to prevent theft.Momentarily she regretted leaving Muggle schooling before having the chance to learn.She'd have loved to know what was in the large jar by her hand.It was no ingredient she had ever seen before.Purples, blues, yellows, oranges, reds, and greens all swirled together in an oily liquid form, like some violently colorful tie-dyed shirt from the Muggle world.

She heard Tosca squawk her greetings behind her, and turned momentarily to give her a quick caress on the back, which the white bird obviously enjoyed.Saying her greetings, she turned back to the shelves.Fifth shelf down, and third r--

She heard something hit the floor by her feet.Turning abruptly, she saw Tosca had landed on a half-open drawer on Professor Snape's desk and was cheerfully digging through it, grabbing things and flinging them hither and yon.

She chuckled in spite of herself and leaned down to pick up the few sheets of parchment Tosca had tossed her way."Now that'll be enough, else he'll be having roast falcon for dinner."Tosca gave her a smug look and flapped back up to her perch, leaving her to clean up.

She happened to glance at the top page in her hand.In Snape's bold, meticulous writing, the notes dated last spring, a listing of Potions ingredients immediately caught her eye.Boomslang skin, horn of a bicorn: what does he want with Polyjuice Potion?Drawn to read more, she let out an involuntary gasp as she read more and discovered that it wasn't Polyjuice Potion that he had been brewing.It was a potion to…help become an Animagus?

Struck dumb, she grabbed up more parchment, the pieces all suddenly dropping into place.This was his project last year.And he had obviously succeeded, as he was still here.Did this mean--a vision of Rita Skeeter coming to mind--he was using his new ability to spy?

Professor McGonagall, I've found a good use for Animagism, she thought.To go spy on Voldemort!Looking in the drawer, she saw a thick sheaf of notes; almost as much parchment as her project proposal.Well prepared as always.

She moved to put the papers back, frozen in indecision.On the one hand, he would kill her.On the other hand, she had gotten no further with researching a director towards eliminating only certain memories for her potion.She had raked Hogwarts' library time and again to no avail.

Was it Providence that had sent this her way, perhaps?Was this a chance to make her mark in the war in a different fashion?This was difficult magic, after all--nobody could sneer and say she was just a teacher's pet or a Mudblood no-talent if she managed this.And she would be helping to save lives.Wasn't that far nobler than being boring, painfully correct and good Hermione Granger and plodding along with Arithmancy equations just to make top marks?And she had heard Professor McGonagall saying quietly to Professor Snape three days ago that Voldemort had caught two Ministry spies amidst his ranks.They would need replacements.

If something is truly worth fighting for, she thought, it's worth risking life, limb, and a place at Lothlorien for.She nodded firmly.Truly a Gryffindor sentiment; sometimes people had also wondered what in her had merited her place in that house rather than Ravenclaw.Well, now she'd prove it.She was more than a mind.

Hastily, she grabbed a quill from up her sleeve.She grasped the rest of the notes from the drawer and put them next to the quill, putting the sheets still clutched in her hand in the pile.Drawing her wand, she whispered, "Replicus!," aiming first at the parchment, then the quill.The quill slowly paled, changing shape, growing to be a stack of parchment exactly the twin of the first.

She then murmured, "Reducio," and the copied sheaf of Snape's painstaking research on Animagism became no more than the size of a Muggle pack of playing cards.She put it in her robes and shoved the original papers back into the desk, closing the drawer quietly.She turned to the shelves and grabbed the jar of Jynx teeth, almost dropping it with hands trembling.

She hurried back out to the workroom, intently staring at her cauldron so that he wouldn't turn and see it written on her face.She wasn't used to breaking rules like this…even now she heard something within her protest that she shouldn't have done it.She added the teeth, forcing herself to calm down.It will be for the good, she consoled.You're not doing this just to become an Animagus for no reason but to show off.You're going to use it.That's more than the Marauders did with it in their school days, and they had no qualms, so buck up!

Two minutes of quick stirring, and she set the spoon beside the cauldron."Good night, sir," she said."Until Monday."

"Good night, Miss Granger," he said nonchalantly.She slipped out of the workroom, feeling her frustrations earlier in the day over getting nowhere with the potion evaporating.She'd still be of great use to the cause now, just in a different, much more direct way.The thought cheered her immensely. It was her birthday, and she felt like she had been given a rather wonderful gift in those notes.She settled down on her bed, relieved that her homework was nearly done, pulled the notes from her pocket, murmured, "Engorgio" to return them to full size, and began to read intently as Crookshanks settled on her lap in contentment.

* * * * *

Tosca chuckled smugly to herself as she watched the girl Severus had taken under his wing leave the workroom.She had done precisely what the falcon had hoped: taken up the notes.

After all, she was getting rather tired of flying all over the countryside nearly every week and listening to a bunch of idiot humans wanting to take over the world and kill off half their own kind: the Muggles.Don't see gyrfalcons trying to murder each other, she thought wryly.Stupid humans.

She had been taking a lazy flight after hunting two nights before when she had faintly heard the girl talking through an open window.Lighting upon the sill, she had listened while the poor thing spoke to her cat of her need to be of use to the world.She had seen the girl teased in her years at Hogwarts, and things hadn't seemed to improve.

The potion she was making under Severus' watchful eye was at a standstill--the route she had wanted to take after brewing the basic Forgetfulness Potion would not work and she was bemoaning howit was a failure.No, she was a failure, and she would always be disliked and useless.

She was even more apart from people, she had told Crookshanks, the nasty-looking ginger cat; now that she was Head Girl.They considered her even farther from being one of them due to that.They had to watch themselves around her, or she might punish them, so they didn't know when a joke was right or not.Her first responsibility was to the school, and so they were cautious around her.Even her old friends were wary.

She wasn't usually the sort to give a fig about the petty problems of the overly fragile human ego, but somehow the girl's gloom reminded her of Severus'.After all, she had been the one to listen to all his self-hating rants over the past eight years.So she figured she'd lend a claw to the girl, and to Severus.The two were perfect for each other, of course, if they could get their egos out of the dung heap.Both were remarkably intelligent, with a need to be of use, introverted, and both were quite lonely.

Being a falcon spy had given Severus purpose, so she had contrived that once the girl had come into the office to lead her to the notes, hoping to help do the same for Hermione Granger.If the girl became an animal of any sort, hopefully she wouldn't have to go out on these idiot missions, since Hermione would be more than eager to do the job and be of use.She had been about ready to steal the notes and fly up to her room, leaving them there.But this worked even better--Severus would never know.And perhaps, she thought cheerfully, as animals they might have some sense and quit with all this, 'She's a student, he's a teacher' bollocks.Humans make things much too complex, really.With that, she fell asleep shortly, feeling satisfied that she had done her part.

Chapter Twelve

It was two days before Halloween now, and Hermione was slowly eating a pumpkin pasty from the staff table where the Head Boy and Girl took their meals.She looked a little sadly towards the Gryffindor table where Ron and Harry now sat, laughing and eating some Licorice Bats.

With them was Seamus Finnegan, and they were looking quite chummy.I've already been replaced, she thought sadly.Head Girl isn't all it's cracked up to be.She had been thrilled at the prestige, the responsibility, the trust placed in her.She should have realized it when Ron and Harry seemed unusually stiff around her in those first weeks, never up to their usual jokes or pranks.They must have been afraid she would have to use her authority and punish them.

Without that easy camaraderie, and with Hermione's sudden long hours in the dungeons with the long-hated Professor Snape, the three friends had grown apart.They gave her apologetic glances now and again when they passed in the halls, but it was obvious that she was now irreversibly "them" instead of "us".She never would have thought it of "noble" Gryffindors to give up a friend so easily, but apparently Ron and Harry had their own agenda.

And too, she still had gotten no brilliant inspirations for a directional to add to the Memory Erasing Potion, and she was a little discouraged now that its base of Forgetfulness Potion was only a week from being complete.She and Snape had already had their work session this evening.True, since she had found Snape's notes, she had spent most of her spare time studying those instead of research ideas, but Snape would be suspicious if she suddenly gave up now.She could imagine the scathing contempt of his two wasted months for her to suddenly say she couldn't and had no clue.It didn't indicate much for her mind or maturity; that was for certain.Well, the moon was full tonight, and that was needed for the Animagus transition.She'd do it tonight, and then resume work on the potion.After all, there would be no harm in asking him if he had any ideas.He was nowhere near as contemptuous in the workroom as he was in class, and willingly answered her questions and critiqued her ideas.

He had of course done the real backbreaking work of researching the magic of Animagism.That was the most time-consuming element: that and making sure one had the necessary power.That was probably why the Marauders had taken three years to do it.They had gotten the idea as second years, after all, and there wasn't a second year out there that was a good enough witch or wizard to attempt this.As a seventh year and a quite powerful witch in her own right, she knew she could do it.All she had to do was follow Snape's notes.

She finished her pasty and excused herself, murmuring some faint excuse of studying for the test in Ancient Runes tomorrow.Professor McGonagall gave her a look of approval for that.She had done all her studying that afternoon, of course.Quietly she headed up to her room and withdrew the notes from where they were hidden behind her mirror.

A faint queasy feeling came over her.If she failed in mid-process, she was done for.This was an all-or-nothing situation; a sort she had always shunned.If Snape had the courage to turn against Voldemort, knowing he'd be killed if he was caught, she thought with determination, you can have the nerve to risk your neck a little for this.After all, what you're intending to do with it is far more dangerous.She nodded decisively and began a quick review.

He had listed various routes to Animagism.He had probably used Salazar Slytherin's Shapeshifter's Potion, naturally.But she didn't think she could steal enough phoenix ash and zebra hair from his stores to make that, if she could even have found it on his shelves.She had barely found the boomslang skin and horn of a bicorn second yearas it was.Since the thefts from his stores of Barty Crouch, Jr. in her fourth year, Snape had made his system all the more difficult to decipher to anyone but himself to deter those with inclinations to filch.The foreign labels were new since second year; that was for certain.She also didn't think several other routes were plausible: the magic being rather obsolete, and the idea of just sitting and down and going at it without any aid was quite frankly foolish.She had settled on the Amorphous Charm: she had always excelled at Charms.

She took a deep breath and sat on the bed, drawing her wand nervously.Unicorn tail hair and apple wood: there were smudges and fingerprints on it, she noted.Polishing them off quickly, she cleared her throat, and pointed her wand at herself and said in a near-whisper the word committing her to this, for well or ill: "Amorphio."

* * * * *

Crookshanks sauntered back into Hermione's room, satisfied after having caught two of the chattering mice down in the kitchens.They reminded him too much of that nasty rat-human, Scabbers, from four years ago.He recalled with pleasure helping the dog Animagus Black catch him, at least temporarily.He had known there was something wrong with the rat the moment he laid eyes on him in the pet shop.

He stepped into the room and his hackles immediately rose, and he bared his teeth and hissed at the intruder sitting on Hermione's bed, looking dazed.Get lost or I'll rip you to pieces!Nobody would harm Hermione while he was around, and he knew there were more than a few animals working for the Dark side on behalf of their human masters.What would they want with Hermione?Especially since she wasn't connected to the Potter boy any longer?

The peregrine falcon turned to him in shock, staring dumbly.Fierce bird of prey my hairballs, he thought, slinking towards it for the pounce.Nothing more than a big and overconfident pigeon when you get down to it.He crouched, ready to spring on it.Tell your master this is what happens to those who meddle with-- he snarled.

Crooky! it shouted, his mind automatically translating the screeches and chirps to words.It's me, Hermione!Only Hermione called him "Crooky", which was faintly embarrassing.

He glowered at the bird.What did your neighbor down the street try to do to me this past summer, if you are Hermione?It was humiliating to recall, but it would definitely prove it was her.He needed something that wasn't common knowledge.

She tried to put a bonnet on you and put you in her cradle as her "baby", Hermione laughed.I can hear you talk… she said in amazement.

Of course I can talk, he said impatiently.You might have warned me that you were going to try this Animagus bit tonight--I thought you might have been someone else.I would have had you in pieces before you could do a thing.

I know, she said, her tone sheepish.It just didn't occur to me that you'd--ah--understand.Now she sounded very embarrassed.She sighed, stretching her wings.Drat.Apparently this doesn't come with the normal falcon knowledge.I'll have to learn to fly.Maybe Severus' Tosca will teach me…I assume she can talk too?

Of course she can.We can all talk.You humans just don't speak our tongue normally, he said patiently, leaping up onto the bed and sitting beside her.Peregrine falcon: very Gryffindor of you.The "noble bird of royalty" and all that.

More useful to spy than being a Gryffindor lion, she said agreeably.Let me try and change back here, in case anybody comes calling.Not that they have this year, she said moodily.Her shape began to blur, like water rippling smoothly over rocks.

A few long minutes and she was Hermione again, with the familiar wavy brown hair and keen brown eyes."I'm exhausted," she muttered, collapsing on the bed.

Can you still hear me?

"Quite clearly.Well, wouldn't Professor Snape love this?" she chuckled."I'll have to prove myself without letting him know it's me," she frowned."Else it's years of detention." Crookshanks cuddled up next to her.

I'd suggest that you talk to Tosca about that.She's quite a smart bird, if a bit full of herself.The two of them had somewhat of a mutual disdain, he seeing her as a glorifiedand pompous pigeon, she seeing him as little more than an overgrown and arrogant little prey-mammal.Both claimed that they could hunt the other down with hardly any effort.Wouldn't be surprised if she's out to help her master; Heaven knows he needs all the help he can get, he added in amusement.

"Very funny, Crookshanks.He's had a difficult life, I think.And he's certainly treating me better than my so-called friends who abandoned me the moment they thought I might stop their bloody precious merriment.But yes, she would be good to talk to," she said thoughtfully."I'll want to do the transition successfully a few times at least before I go to her, though.Well, I'll practice, and talk to her over the weekend."She turned to him and said, "Do you think she purposely made me find those notes, perhaps?"

Wouldn't doubt it for an instant, he replied dryly.He noticed her eyelids drooping after the extreme exertion of the magic.Good night, Hermione, and good luck.With that, he headed towards Severus Snape's quarters to go forewarn the big white falcon and perhaps, horrors of horrors, even plead with her for assistance.After all, she did belong to the man who was quite a match for Hermione, unlike those prats, Harry and Ron.

* * * * *

Tosca landed softly on the perch insider her mews, content.It had been good hunting tonight: she had caught one of Hogwarts' fat, lazy pigeons with almost too much ease.That plus the fact she knew that if she wheedled with Severus, he'd feed her as well made her mood quite good.

Oi!Tosca! came a faint meowing from outside the door.

She glanced impatiently towards the door.Crookshanks…is that you?What do you want, you overgrown mouse?She tolerated him because he belonged to Severus' would-be mate.Well, mate if she had anything to say about it.

Did you make her find those notes of his about Animagism?If you did, bravo; it's snapped her out of her slump quite nicely.

She flew over to the doorknob and carefully turned it with her claws, letting the ginger-furred cat in.She managed it? she asked the cat.

Indeed she did, he replied quite smugly.I think those two are a good match, and if they learn to go spy together, it should only help, hmm?

So did you come only to give me accolades?My my, what an ego boost.She studied him.So, what form has she taken?Something disgustingly noble and bold, and very probably useless as a spy, I imagine.Gryffindors are not known for their practicality: they're mostly annoyingly flamboyant.

Quite practical, although it is noble and bold.Peregrine falcon.Tosca stared at him and laughed.She couldn't have asked for Hermione Granger to have a better Animagus form.

So I presume you're here to ask me to teach her, as she won't be able to fly and such?

Yes, but how did you know that?

I had to teach Severus all that.He's actually a gyrfalcon.Both of them chortled, that only reinforcing the opinion of the rightness of those two for each other.If the two's own spirits could guide them to becoming animals so closely related, that was good indication.So she'll be dropping by to ask my help, eh?Don't mind if I pretend we never had this conversation, do you?

Not a bit.She was quite pleased, indeed.She could train the girl to replace her as Severus' partner with nary a hitch.After all, Severus would never take her on if he knew it was Hermione Granger.She'd figure out how to make certain he didn't know.But Hermione would be much better at it than herself: she was tired of sitting and listening to the humans plotting idiocies when she'd much rather spend the pleasure of a lovely evening flying free.If Hermione wanted to do all that, more power to her.

Crookshanks sauntered back towards the door, tail held jauntily up.He looked back over his shoulder at her.Thank you.But you know something truly frightening?If we do get those two together; that does mean we'll have to live together.He showed his teeth in jest, and she replied by raising one foot with its sharp talons.Well, it's the white flag of truce for now, he purred, slipping out the door.

Three minutes later, Severus came in, teeth gritted and clutching his arm.She sighed.Another night out it is, she thought wearily.