A Terrible Temptation

A/N - I know you are all a little confused by the Animagi thing, it will make sense as we go along. Obviously I have gone a bit beyond the challenge here, but I had some loose ends to tie up, like her anis trs training before we could go forwards again. I am glad so many of you are enjoying the story. Thanks to Kate my dear friend and beta. This chapter is for Lisa, who goes to teach sex education in inner city L.A. and who was in tears last night for hours on the phone wih me because a girl at one of her schools is in the hospital after a terrible incident. People need to stand together and protect each other.

Chapter 25 – Convocation

Convocation was held in the greenhouses. To his cat-self, which was even more sensitive to smell than his human nose, it was a riot of sensory pleasures. Rain was beating down on the glass and wind rattled the doors, but inside was snug and cozy, warm and full of dirt and plants. It was a cat paradise.

Severus had been convinced that seeing Hermione in cat form woposepose no danger to him. After all, she would be a cat not a girl, hardly something to be attracted to. He had managed to forget that at the moment he was a cat as well.

His first sight of her, sitting demurely beside Minerva set his whiskers twitching. He stayed behind Crookshanks and kept his distance, suddenly unsure of his own ability to remain calm. He folded his tail neatly over his paws and kept his body language expressionless. She probably had not learned enough about feline society to know how to read him, but he was unwilling to risk it.

There were eleven cats total in the castle, twelve now with Hermione and they all were carefully not looking at each other as they all sat, pretending disinterest as they waited.

Finally, Mrs. Norris appeared, and they all nodded to her. She settled into a Sphinx pose and the others moved to drape themselves around the greenhouse interior. To the untrained eye they would look as though they were ignoring each other and that there was no pattern to their placement. However, each cat had a specified place based on ranking, skills and battle honors.

Minerva sat primly with the rather shyly nervous Hermione peeking out from behind her. The cat in him wanted to rub aga her her and maybe bite her lovely neck…stop that! He scolded himself.

“Who do you bring before us, Storyteller?” Mrs. Norris was flicking her tail disdainfully.

“This is Miss Granger, Guardian, she has just become a half-bit.” Minerva replied radiating calm.

“So she is not quite a kitten anymore but not yet ready to hunt alone.” Mrs. Norris mused. Severus was fairly sure that Hermione was quite capable of hunting alone if she wanted to, but politics in the cat world were almost Slytherin. Minerva remained silent, showing her respectful disagreement, but Mrs. Norris just flicked a tail in annoyance.

“Who sponsors her?” Mrs. Norris asked the assembled.

“I do, Guardian.” Crookshanks stretched and bared his teeth as he did so, daring any to contest his right.

“Very well, Huntmaster, besides Storyteller, who will speak for the girl?” There was a sudden silence as all the cats quivered in interest. Mrs. Norris was within her rights to ask this but it showed a great unwillingness to accept the new vixen and it was most unusual.

“I do, Guardian.” Severus heard his own voice say before his conscious will had caught up with his mouth. Mrs. Norris glared at him and her tail flick was pronounced.

“Very well, Stalker.” She grumbled and the assembled cats were made uncomfortable by the sudden tension. Severus was puzzled, what was so threatening about Miss Granger? She was only a half-bit, they none of them had the rank of a true cat. So why was Mrs. Norris so upset?

“Half-bit, you have yet to earn name or ranking. Come forward and be known to your ers.ers.” Mrs. Norris’ speech was haughty and filled with a sharpness that Severus had never heard before. Hermione padded out from behind Minerva and sat quietly in front of Mrs. Norris, gaze averted and tail neatly folded. “In order of ranking this is the tribe of people who claim the territory of Stone Hunting Grounds.” Mrs. Norris stood and stared at Hermione. “I am Orange Eyes, Guardian of the Ways of the Tribe.” She announced proudly.

“I am Sure Death, the Huntmaster of the Tribe.” Crookshanks came next for he was second only to Mrs. Norris in ranking. Then the next few introduced themselves: Chases Lint, Seeker and Fast Dash, who were all Hunters for the Tribe. Then it was Minerva’s turn.

“I am Grey Fur, Storyteller for the Tribe.” Leaf Catcher, Fly Swatter, Yowls A Lot and Always Sleeping, who were Lookouts for the Tribe, introduced themselves next and then Severus stepped forward.

“I am Soot, Stalker for the Tribe.” Severus was proud of being Stalker; it meant that he was quiet enough to flush tame ame for the hunters to chase. He was the lowest ranking cat, or had been before Hermione had come, but his role was essential.

“These are the people of the tribe.” Mrs. Norris spoke the ritual words that closed the introduction.

After that the cats sauntered away, leaving Crookshanks, Minerva, Hermione and himself.

“I don’t get a name?” Hermione asked.

“You earn your Tribe name, kitten.” Crookshanks explained.

Ron moved his king with an absent minded air. Harry looked up from the board in surprise. They were sitting cross-legged on Ron’s bed, the only two in the room.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked his sudden question rousing Ron from his contemplations.

“I know you think Hermione is mad, Harry, but I think you’re wrong.” Ron breathed out quickly, steeling himself for the argument he saw coming. Harry opened his mouth then stopped himself and shut it again. He took a deep breath.

“Why Ron? Why do you think I am wrong?”

“Because he may be old and sarcastic and mean, but he needs her. She needs him too, I think. He’s smarter than any of the blokes our age and has seen and done things we’ve never even thought of.” Ron tried to get his thoughts together. It was so hard to explain. “When he was being you, they talked for hours, did homework together, argued about potions and transfigurations and everything. She had someone to talk to about all the stuff you and I hate. He’s really good at Quidditch too.” Ron added lamely.

“Ron, that means they could be friends, that’s not love.” Harry waved off his arguments. Ron shook his head stubbornly.

“If it wasn’t love, he wouldn’t even try to be her friend.” Ron rebutted.

“In that case he must love you too, Ron.” Harry muttered sarcastically. Ron shrugged and let it drop, Harry wasn’t ready to understand.

Minerva leaned forward over the desk and watched as the enchanted quill transcribed the poetry.

“Clever, Severus. Though why you go to such lengths to hide your identity I do not know.” She watched as the lines of emerald green scribed across the paper.

“I thought that my identity was rather obvious actually. I suspect that the only reason she has not put the clues together yet is her unwillingness to see me in the light of a suitor.” Minerva heard both bitterness and despair in his voice and she patted him lightly on the arm in encouragement.

“Severus, she is only seventeen. If she hasn’t seen the possibilities yet, then perhaps you simply need to give her time.” Minerva reasoned. Severus looked up at her and there was great sadness in his eyes.

“Who am I fooling, Minerva?” He shook his head. “She will never see me as anything but the greasy git and it is for the best. I have nothing to give her.” He stormed out of the room, but Minerva noticed that the quill continued to write. Despite his words, Severus would send the letter.

A little hope was better than none at all.