It felt strange to be sneaking around the house after dark like a criminal. She had their cover story all planned out; on her shoulder she carried her school bag with her astronomy book and her and Harry's completed astronomy homework inside. If they were caught in the back yard at night they'd simply say they were doing some checks on their astronomy homework before calling it fit to be turned in. There would be nothing odd about that. And if they were out there for school, with textbooks and parchments scattered about, neither her mother nor father would question the large black spell book among the items, either. It was rather clever, if Hermione did say so herself. Still, it felt weird to be going behind her parents' backs and lying outright. But she'd have to get used to it, used to bald-faced lies to protect her parents. They couldn't understand the likes of Voldemort, couldn't fight him, and more importantly couldn't do anything to protect her from the dark wizard. It was better not to let them worry about things they couldn't change.

Hermione slipped out the back door of the kitchen and instantly spotted Harry. He was already in the yard, sitting beside the garden with a small candle flickering on the grass in front of him. A flash of amber in the shadows, flickers of brown-gold in time with the flare of the flame, was Hedwig on his shoulder, out for her midnight prowl but obviously curious enough about her master's nocturnal venture to stick around and see what was going on. Harry reached up and pet his bird at odd intervals. He looked in Hermione's direction as she made her way across the yard to him. When she was on the other side of the candle from him she dropped her bag and sat down on the grass.

"Almost like being back at Hogwarts, isn't it?" he commented, and Hermione chuckled. "Yeah, a bit, only thing we're missing is your invisibility cloak." She dug around in her bag and began to lie out their props. Astronomy textbook, opened strategically to a labeled starscape, their homework parchments, two ink quills, scrap paper. It looked haphazardly perfect for their alibi. Then Hermione drew out the black book and opened it on her lap. Harry leaned forward and Hedwig, detecting the shift, locked her eyes attentively on the book as she might a mouse.

Hermione tracked the dancing words in the firelight and read aloud, "The first step to becoming an animagus, and by far the longest and most difficult in the multi-step process, is the retraining of the brain to connect with the natural world. This preliminary step is where most witches and wizards attempting the transformation fail. To truly harmonize oneself with their animal form, a witch or wizard must willfully and consciously abandon part of themselves to their animal instincts. Only when tokens of this union with the world transcending human experience are fully connected to the witch or wizard seeking form beyond human can one transition from the human shape of witch or wizard to the adopted form of beast. Here too lie complications, for even if one has the mental discipline to adjust their thinking, many witches and wizards are inherently incapable of accepting that they have an animal counterpart woven into their magical psychological profile. If one cannot surrender to the idea of possessing animal qualities they will never succeed in physically transforming into that animal shape." Hermione looked up and across to Harry, his eyes and Hedwig's glinting in the tiny candle's light.

"Okay… so how to do we do it?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "We have to figure it out ourselves from these clues, obviously. They're not about to give a step-by-step how-to for becoming an animagus."

Harry frowned. Hedwig, apparently losing interest in the conversation, spread her jet black wings and took off into the night in search of prey.

Harry rubbed his shoulder where his familiar had pushed off and said, "So… you don't know how to do it?"

Hermione glared faintly at him. "Harry, we can figure this out. Now, I've been thinking about what they meant by 'retraining the brain', and I think it could mean meditation."

"Meditation? Like, Buddhist monks?"

Hermione smiled. "Something like that, yes. In the muggle world there are alternative medicine theories as well as religious subgroups that suggest meditation to do very much the same thing, get in touch with nature, transcend human consciousness. I think that kind of approach is what this book suggests is necessary for the first step."

"What about tokens? What does that mean?"

Hermione looked down at the book and played with the edge of the page. "Maybe we're supposed to gather bits of the natural world. Perhaps we're meant to collect as many pieces of nature as we can, you know, as many kinds of grass, or types or leaves, or bits of animal hair from as many species we can, feathers… I don't know, but those would be 'tokens', don't you think?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and glanced up at the stars. "Maybe we should write and ask Sirius how he did it."

Hermione didn't answer right away. "Do you think he'd tell us? Help us, I mean?"

"I think he would. He'd want to help, I'm sure of it."

"Well, we could… but Harry, is it wise to owl him with our intentions? What if our letter was intercepted, what if someone found out what we were doing? This is illegal, as we have no intention of registering our animagi forms if we succeed. And if the wrong people found out what we were doing, well, we might as well not do it at all. We're relying on the secret advantages this kind of ability would give us."

"But he's someone who's done it, and no offense, Hermione, but that book's pretty vague on how to go about it."

"We're just as bright as they were; we can figure it out, too."

"I don't doubt that you're smart, Hermione, I know you're brilliant, I just think a little help would go a long way."

"You require help?"

Both Harry and Hermione jumped when the third voice joined theirs from the darkness. Hermione reflexively slammed the book in her lap shut and Harry reached to his waistband for his wand. They sought in the darkness for the intruder and swirling mist arose from nothing and quickly coalesced into the shape of Kimmy, clad in stealthy black boxers that covered her from knees to shoulders.

"Kimmy!" Hermione yelped then fought to calm her voice. "You… startled us."

Kimmy looked deliberately from Hermione to Harry then said, "You need help?"

Harry glanced quickly at Hermione, at the book in her lap, then at their scattered astronomy things.

"Oh, um… yes, we were just doing our astronomy homework. We were thinking we might owl Ron and… ask him about… the moons of Jupiter. Quite the Jupiter-buff, Ron is."

Kimmy stared implacably at Hermione, so long that Hermione started to shift under the house elf's gaze.

Finally Kimmy moved closer to the candle and sat down. "You really shouldn't lie to Kimmy, Miss Hermione."

Hermione shot a panicked look at Harry, then looked back at Kimmy. Kimmy looked up at the girl, nonplussed, as damnably patient and expectant as Dumbledore often was when faced with a twitchy student.

"You think we ought to ask her?" Harry finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

Kimmy looked to Harry and silent approval, like a praise of 'right answer, my boy', was in her glittering green eyes.

Hermione whimpered and sent her own look Harry's way… a look of 'are you completely spare?', but when she looked down at the elf again she couldn't think of a way to avoid it now. Kimmy knew they weren't doing astronomy, and if they begged off telling her what they were up to there was no guarantee she wouldn't report to Dumbledore. They were stuck, they had to tell Kimmy.

Hermione, her better judgment screaming resistance all the way, slowly reopened the book to the correct chapter and eyed the elf a long moment. Dumbledore trusted Kimmy with Harry's safety; Hermione tried to decide how far they could go in relying on that explicit trust from the headmaster.

"Kimmy… you know about the return of You Know Who."

Kimmy shivered and tugged her boxer shorts higher up her body as though to ward off a chill. She nodded, causing the tips of her ears to wiggle. "Oh, yes. Bad, bad times."

"Very bad. And Headmaster Dumbledore told you You Know Who has it out for Harry."

Kimmy looked toward Harry with sorrow and affection. "Yes, yes… Kimmy was told." Harry gave a lopsided, sorry smile in recognition of Kimmy's concern for him.

Hermione paused to consider her words. "Well, you see, now that You Know Who's alive again, I wanted to think of everything I could that might help Harry. And I think… I think if Harry and I were animagi, well, that could be very useful to us. Might even save his life. I checked this book out from Hogwarts library before I left the castle, there's an extensive chapter on the animagus…" Hermione tried to gauge the elf's reaction. "And we're trying to figure out how one goes about becoming an animagus. That's what Harry meant we ought to ask you. Do you know how to do it, Kimmy?"

Kimmy regarded Hermione very closely, not saying a word. Hermione winced and glanced fleetingly at Harry.

"Hermione thinks," Harry added, "that to 'retrain one's thinking' refers to meditation of some kind, trying to get in touch with nature. And she thinks 'tokens' means we're to collect things, like leaves and feathers."

Hermione had never felt under scrutiny by a house elf until now. Kimmy was overbearing in her gaze, much the way Professor McGonagall could browbeat anxious students without uttering a single word.

Then, after an unbearable silence, Kimmy said, "Miss Hermione is indeed a very bright witch."

Harry and Hermione exchanged hopeful, disbelieving looks.

"You… you know how to become an animagus?" Hermione asked.

"Yes."

"Would you teach us?" Harry asked.

Kimmy paused, looked uncertain. She tugged at the bottoms of her boxers and shook her head. "It's not allowed."

"We know," Hermione confessed, "but if it could help save Harry's life… isn't that why you were sent home with us, to make sure Harry's safe? Maybe being an animagus won't save his life someday, but maybe it will. We have to try everything, don't we?"

Kimmy worried the hem of her boxers, clearly torn about what she should do. Hermione held her breath. If Kimmy refused she'd probably relay their intentions to Dumbledore.

Eventually, Kimmy lifted her head and looked directly into Hermione's eyes. "You have to tap into the magical imprint inside everything in nature. That's what you have to retrain your brain to do, reach the magic in this blade of grass," Kimmy picked a blade from beside her and held it up, "and know its magic, connect with it, and then it's your token." Kimmy dropped the blade of grass and watched it flutter away in the breeze.

Hermione held back a gasp. "You mean… that's what we're meant to do?"

Kimmy nodded. "But listens, Miss Hermione and Mister Harry Potter, where most fail is to think like a human too much. So you retrain your brain, you learn to find the magic in everything, but not everything's magic can be your token. So this leaf has magic, so? Every leaf has magic, part of the living essence of the tree, you see, but not everything with magic is for you. So maybe this leaf doesn't give token to you, but maybe that one will. You can't take a token that's not yours, you can't ignore one that picks you. Collect what's yours for the final incantation, but only yours. If it's not your token it will sour the spell. Because it doesn't belong, see? Many witches and wizards try to force their tokens, and that's not natural, is it? A wizard thinks this rock should be a token, because rocks are nature, so he takes it, but it didn't token itself to him, so he thought like a human and the animal in him doesn't like that. It won't join with him for lies. Your animal won't join with you if you try to trick it."

"Honesty, fidelity," Hermione mused.

Kimmy beamed. "Yes! Just that, Miss Hermione! Honesty. Yes. Fidelity. Yes, yes. That's what you must do."

"And how do we meditate to reach this magic in leaves and grass?" Harry asked.

Kimmy blinked at him. "One cannot teach the how, but Kimmy can tell the what. Stop thinking like a human. Be part of the leaves and part of the grass, be the magic in you that connects to the magic in the leaves and the grass. That's what you must do. How is what you must do."

It was a baffling riddle to Harry, but Hermione was relieved. "Thank you so much, Kimmy. We'll work really hard, but we won't think really hard."

Kimmy clapped. "I do think Miss Hermione gets it!"

"Well, I'm glad someone does," Harry mumbled.

"Oh, you'll do it, Harry. It's about gut instinct, if I understand Kimmy correctly, and you're very good at going on instinct."

Kimmy was bouncing up and down on her bum in excitement over Hermione's grasp of the concept.

"Think of it this way, Harry… when you're catching the snitch, how much are you actually thinking?"

Harry blinked and the first whisper of understanding shot through him. "Hardly at all."

"That's it, Mister Harry Potter! Stop that thinking! That's the key to it."

"I don't know how we can thank you, Kimmy."

"It's to protect Mister Harry Potter, yes?"

"Absolutely."

"Then it's what Kimmy should do. But Kimmy wouldn't object to a nice new pair of boxer shorts."

Hermione laughed. "You'll get them, Kimmy, I'll get you a real nice pair of boxers."

Kimmy beamed merrily and jumped up from the ground.

"Kimmy!" Hermione called out and the elf, bringing up her hand to snap back to the house, paused. "You're not… you won't tell anyone what we're trying to do, will you?"

"No, no, no, Miss Hermione. Kimmy won't tell your secret. Nor can I help you any more than I already have, from this it is yours alone to do."

"We understand. Thanks a bunch, Kimmy."

With a snap the house elf disappeared and Harry and Hermione were left alone again. Without the elf's talkative presence the night seemed to rush back inward to close around them. Hermione was on the high of achievement, of figuring out a problem, though Harry still looked dubious.

"I really think we can do this, Harry. Let's start now. Come over here," Hermione closed the spell book and stuffed it in her bag. Then she shoved their astronomy work to one side to make room on the ground.

"Hermione, I don't think…"

"Good, you shouldn't. Not for this." Hermione saw the doubt in Harry's expression, the hesitancy in his movements, and she reined in her bubbling enthusiasm. He didn't share her confidence and throttling him with hers wouldn't help him reach the state of mind they'd both need. "Let's just try, Harry. I really do think we can manage, in fact, I think you might do better at this than me." Harry gave her a strange look and Hermione said bashfully, "Well, you're so much better at going on instinct than I am. You know me, I over-think everything, and for this thinking can ruin it all on the very first step. Maybe we'll get it, maybe we won't, it is very hard to do, but we should at least try, shouldn't we?"

Harry gave up and shrugged. "All right," he said and crawled on his hands and knees around the small candle to sit beside Hermione. "Now what?"

Hermione laid back on the grass and patted the spot beside her. "Lay back."

Harry paused then wordlessly did as told, stretching out beside her. Hermione resisted the urge to look over at his starlit profile, because already she was trying to clear her mind of thought. She tried to grab the emptiness between stars and let it fill her mind.

"Okay… now what."

"Just try to lie there and not think of anything."

"What if I fall asleep?"

Hermione chuckled. "Then you fall asleep. No big deal. If it doesn't work tonight, we'll just try some other time. I don't expect us to 'token' anything our first go out."

"Then why are we—"

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't imagine we should talk. We should concentrate."

"On nothing."

"Yes."

Harry sighed. "Okay, then," he said in a relenting voice, then he fell quiet.

Hermione opened her senses to the yard, the hard ground beneath her, the smell of the grass near her head, the sound of crickets and owls ('probably Hedwig… no, stop, don't think about it'), the cool air on her face, the stars a heavy blanket of eternity stretching to forever above her. Even if it didn't work, it was a profoundly peaceful moment in time. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in, filling her lungs with the clean night air. She heard Harry breathing next to her. In and out, slow and steady… slower, deeper. ('He's falling asleep… don't think about it.') She couldn't help the way her thoughts were sliding to her right. Harry's body supine beside her, his long limbs lax, his chest rising and falling, his eyes closing, his mouth relaxing, his hair fluttering in the breeze, his hands, his stomach, his hips, his feet. ('You're doing way too much thinking!') Maybe if she were just a bit closer she could catch his scent on the air. Maybe a hand straying over just a bit would touch the boundaries of his body heat.

Hermione knew she wasn't going to token anything tonight. She stopped trying and instead enjoyed lying under the stars, Harry asleep beside her, and her own worries slipping away as she, too, surrendered to sleep.

❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾ ❾¾❾¾

Peripheral awareness of the world around him danced at the edges of his senses. He had some sense of the brisk night air on his exposed skin, seeping through his clothes and giving him goosebumps. He could feel the hard ground, he certainly felt that more than the rest. He could feel blades of grass, itchy and rough against the back of his neck and his arms. The essence of darkness, untempered night, thick beyond his eyelids. The pure sense of openness, of unending sky above him, the flavor of freedom he knew from broom-riding, swelled around him. He was cold, chilly everywhere…except in one patch on his left side where there was a blossom of warmth. There was a pocket of warmth, a patch of softness, a section of very comfortable in a wholly uncomfortable situation.

That place at his side was enough to keep him where he lay rather than seek better accommodations. He wouldn't move lest it make that piece of warmth go away. But the rest was beyond ignoring.

Harry startled when something moved to engulf him.

He flinched awake, eyes desperately searching the darkness for danger as he turned to the side, into the warm spot, and brought up his arm to shield Hermione from the swallowing presence.

Until he realized it was a blanket being laid out over them.

"Kimmy?" Harry mumbled at the miniature figure palely outlined by the stars.

"Sorry to wake you, Mister Harry Potter. Kimmy thought you and Miss Hermione might get cold." Kimmy continued to drape the blanket over the pair, undeterred by Harry's surprise.

Harry didn't move from his spot, half-leaning over Hermione, his arm around her. It was as though it refused to register. When it did he looked down quickly, in panic, at Hermione's face. He let out a breath of relief to see that Kimmy's gesture had not woken her.