The Cat & The Canary

CHAPTER FOUR - THE ASSAULT

- Note - 
"Creature Speech"
"Hermione's Anger/Magic Control"
"Spells"
"Hermione's Anger/Magic Control Spells"

- Location: Flying Field -
- 3rd Person Point of View -

The sky was cloudy but a warm breeze constantly blew by every now and then, this made Hermione purr when the warm air blew through her hair and into her eyes. Hermione & Neville were standing in the Flying Field with their hands at their sides and their broom by their feet, waiting for the command from Professor Hooch, Hogwart's Flying Instructor. Hermione was never really one for flying but she understood that it can have its' uses when certain occasions called for it.

Neville loved flying and Hermione could respect that; he wanted to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch and she respected his choice, while she was not happy with who the Seeker and the Captain of the Quidditch Team were. Neville looked at Professor Hooch with a smile and eyes that shined with determination and Hermione admired that; it was nice seeing her friend happy.

Unfortunately, Luna was not able to join them because she had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. Hermione looked at the ground as she thought about McGonagall, she was like another mother for the hybrid but she wasn't sure if she could truly trust her or if she was just acting as a Professor should. Hermione thought about it for a while before Hooch called out to her.

"Ms. Granger, are you with us?" Hooch called out, causing all the other students to look in Hermione's direction.

"Hm. Yes, Madam Hooch. I'm fine." Hermione answered. Hooch raised her eyebrow at the vague answer.

"Are you certain, Ms. Granger? I know that flying is not your favorite subject but you are always focused. Are you sure that nothing is bothering you?" The Flying Instructor asked with pure concern in her voice. Hermione's tail lightly waved under her cloak when she opened her mouth to speak but a red-headed weasel had other plans.

"Maybe the Stray feels guilty for turning her back on Gryffindor and forgetting her place as a Muggleborn to her betters." Ron hissed out. Hermione and Neville glared at the boy, Hermione's fingers arched and her claws were hungry for the weasel's blood but Neville's sudden grasp of her hand caused her to inhale and look at him while he continued to glare at Ron.

"Hermione is not a Stray nor are you her better. She is the brightest witch of our age and, as her friend, I don't appreciate you disrespecting her. Hold your tongue, Weasley." Neville warned with a low growl of his own. Ron was not impressed and continued his rant.

"We told you that we needed you to help us with our work, Granger; now, Harry, Ginny and I can't go to Hogsmeade or play Quidditch this weekend or any weekend or day until our grades come back up! Why the hell didn't you listen when we told you to help us with the potion?! We can't do what we want because you fucked it up for us, you fucking freak!" Ron's face almost matched his hair but the sudden crack caused everyone to looked at the Gryffindor Hybrid - The Very Fierce Gryffindor Hybrid.

Hermione's magic started cracking around her, showing itself as light blue fragments of lighting that disappeared and reappeared every odd change. Her curly hair, that was tied back in a ponytail lightly waved in the magic pressure winds coming from her; it also caused the grass around her to blow away from her. Hermione's claws gave off an almost blue glow and her eyes, which were once brown, were now golden eyes like the fur of a lion, showing off her dangerous oval-shaped pupils; it was like Ron was looking into the eyes of Gryffindor's Lion and it made him shiver at his core.

"Your Failures & The Failures of Harry James Potter or Ginevra Molly are not on my head nor are they on my conscience, Ronald Bilius Weasley. The Failures of Gryffindor are not my responsibility nor do I can if this house implodes from the inside out! All I care for is the preservation of myself, Neville Longbottom & Luna Lovegood. Any other preservation is irrelevant to me." Hermione's voice was powerful as if the magic within her was speaking itself, making itself known and heard. Neville didn't let go of his sister's hand, her magic did sting his hand but it was not trying to hurt him; it accepted him as someone who truly cared for Hermione. Ron's glare forced its' way through the fear of Hermione's words.