In the common room after dinner, most students set to working on their assignments. Ron had appropriated the couch first thing back from the Great Hall, spread out to the point where no one else could even think of sharing it with him, and promptly fell asleep. His eventual snoring drove several of the studying Gryffindors up to their dorms or off to the library looking for a quiet place to study. Harry was at the table working on Potions, by now used to Ron's sawing snores and adept at tuning them out.

A hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder, and Harry knew it was Hermione before she even spoke by the tickle of her hair on his neck and the soft smell of her when she leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Are you busy, Harry?"

Harry half-turned in his seat to look at her, his quill paused and poised over his Potions assignment. Hermione took her hand from Harry's shoulder and used it to shift the strap of her bookbag. "I thought you were in the library," he said in a low voice, mindful of Ron sleeping a few feet away.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "Not exactly." She looked quickly to either side to see if anyone was close enough to hear.

Harry laid his quill down. Hermione being sneaky always got his attention.

"Could you come with me? We need to talk," she said with a glance in Ron's direction to make sure he'd not heard.

Harry nodded, gathered up his things, and stood from the table.

Hermione led him out of the common room and through the halls of the castle without a word of explanation as to where they were going. She was in her 'Hermione on a mission' mode, and Harry knew better than to try and stand in her way. He held his peace and followed her.

He hesitated only a heartbeat when Hermione pushed her way into the girls' second floor bathroom before following her inside. The deserted loo looked almost completely unchanged from the last time Harry had been inside it. He gave the sinks a wary look, even though he knew the portal to the Chamber of Secrets wouldn't open without a command in parseltongue. Just knowing it was there was enough to give him the creeps.

Hermione didn't appear to share any of his disquieted associations with the bathroom. Her focus was entirely elsewhere. She turned to Harry the moment they were alone inside the loo and finally launched into the explanation for their sojourn. "I wasn't in the library; I was getting the things we would need to start the potion for our 'project'." She took the bag from her shoulder and set it on the edge of the nearest sink to dig through the contents. Harry frowned, walked over, and took the bag off the basin. Hermione followed where it went, her hands buried inside, and seemed to pay no mind to why Harry was moving it. Harry sat down on the floor and Hermione followed suit, the bag presently on the tile between them.

"I thought it would be best if I worked on the potion on my own in the evenings," Hermione said as she pulled out the black spell book, set it in her lap, and turned to the well-read chapter. "Ron might get suspicious if you and I continually sneak off without him."

Harry leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, you're probably right about that. Sure you don't mind doing it by yourself, though?"

Hermione shook her head and reached back into the bag to pull out a jar of mysterious blue liquid. "I'm the one who's been studying up on how to do it, anyway. I expect it might go faster if I'm just left to work. What you'll need to do is keep Ron distracted and throw him off if he starts suspecting we're up to anything.

"Now, this potion doesn't require the same maturation time that the polyjuice did. It's complicated, to be sure, but not nearly as delicate or time-sensitive. I'm certain I can have it done by the time of the full moon."

"Which will be when, exactly?" Harry asked, hoping he wasn't about to get a lecture for not researching it himself in his astronomy book.

"In two weeks, roughly."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "You can have the potion done by then?"

Hermione nodded. "That doesn't leave a great deal of time for you to learn that incantation I gave you, Harry. You'll need to give it top priority."

"I've already been studying it, between classes and during most of History of Magic."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded.

Harry held out his hands defensively. "Hey, do you want me to know it or don't you?"

Hermione pressed her lips tightly together and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, yes, I suppose this is rather more important than History of Magic. Fine then, I'll not trouble you about it anymore; if you end up needing help with your History of Magic because you've been memorizing that spell, you come to me."

"I always do."

Hermione blushed momentarily and looked back down at the book in her lap. Harry smirked, but not unkindly, as he watched her.

"I… uh," Hermione cleared her throat and looked back up at him, her complexion, for the most part, back to normal, "I'll need your tokens."

Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew the marble bag that he carried with him at all times. It was bulky and oddly shaped from the items within. After the entirety of the summer, it was almost a comforting constant weight in his pocket. He passed the bag to her.

"Thanks," Hermione said and placed his marble bag inside her bookbag. "The tokens will have to be soaked in the potion. It should draw out the magic in the objects, stabilize the link, and bind the tokens together. That connection will be very important for the next phase of the process. But this is straight potions, nothing so intricate or difficult as the tokening itself, so I don't expect there to be any trouble.

"If you happen to token anything else between now and the full moon, still take it. Remember what Kimmy told us, you must never ignore a token. Take it and bring it to me and I'll add it to the potion."

"All right," Harry answered, "what should we do if—" Harry was cut off mid-sentence when a bubbling gurgle came from the last stall of the girls' bathroom. Harry looked quickly in that direction while Hermione slammed shut the spell book in her lap.

"Myrtle?" Hermione called out after a silence listening to the burble. "Is that you?"

The bubbling intensified… soon followed by a giggle. Moaning Myrtle came floating out of the fourth stall. She turned to face them and looked first at Harry. And smiled. "Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Mrytle," Harry said uncomfortably, all too conscious of the fact that the last time he'd seen Mrytle he'd been starkers.

Apparently, neither had she forgotten from the lascivious, wicked grin that lit her usually dour, glum expression.

"Umm… how long have you been here?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Myrtle floated lazily closer, twirling one pigtail around an incorporeal finger. "Long enough to know the pair of you are up to something you're not allowed to be doing." She peered at the bag and scrunched her nose even as Hermione tried to discretely close the flap. "Another potion? Oh, that's no fun at all. And after last term, Harry, I'd expect something more intriguing than potions from you." Myrtle openly looked him over head to toe and back again.

"You'll not tell on us, will you, Myrtle?" Hermione appealed to the ghost girl.

Myrtle snickered. "I'd never tell on Harry. He and I shared a special moment last term; we're close. Aren't we, Harry?"

"Uh… well…"

Myrtle cackled and swooped in a circle. "Do you know the girls' bathrooms are much more interesting so far this term because of you, Harry? I should thank you for that alone."

"How did I…?" Harry began to ask the ghost, but he noticed Hermione scowl and he shifted his focus to her. "What?"

"He he he… Little Miss Potions uses the same loos I haunt, no doubt she's heard it. The talk, Harry."

"Hermione?" Harry asked uncertainly, wondering if he even wanted to know the answer.

"Oh, Harry… it's tactless, really, but… I've walked in on a few loo conversations about you between the other girls."

"What about me?" Harry frowned when the most logical conclusion came to mind. "They figure I was making up the stuff about Voldemort and Cedric? Think I'm either crazy or as dark as Voldemort is?"

"Oh, to be sure," Myrtle answered airily, "but that's not the talk we mean." She gave Hermione a wink that made the living girl fume.

Hermione sighed and winced on Harry's behalf. "Just some really rude girls commenting on your… well, not on one thing specifically. Suffice it to say, quite a lot of girls think you are rather fanciable."

Harry's eyebrows rose incredulously. "They talk about me like that?"

"Like you've no mind or feelings at all," Hermione said angrily, "believe me, Harry, when I walk in on that kind of talk I give those girls a good tongue-lashing. They ought not talk about you like that. Half of them have never even spoken to you, wouldn't have the first idea what a great person you are, and they've certainly no right to talk about you like you're just some… object. I've not heard any more of that talk, so maybe they've learned their lesson and shut their mouths."

Myrtle laughed. "Ha! They haven't stopped, they've just spread the word not to talk about Harry in front of you." Myrtle sighed, "But I've become so popular in the loos this term. Once the girls found out I saw Harry naked."

Hermione made a sound between an indignant gasp and a high-pitched whimper and Harry wanted to open the Chamber of Secrets and jump down the shaft.

"You what?" Hermione yelped, and looked at Harry.

Harry grimaced; it was time to come clean on Myrtle's 'help' last term. "You know how I said Cedric tipped me off to put the egg with the clue to the second task under the water? Actually, he just told me to take a bath with it… Myrtle was the one who told me to put it underwater."

"Oh…" Hermione looked torn. Finally, she said to the ghostly girl, "Well, thank you for helping him figure that out, Myrtle."

"That came with thanks in itself," Myrtle sniggered in response, and Hermione narrowed her eyes but chose to say nothing. The ghost looked again at the items between the teens. "Any chance this little project will require another bath?" She looked very pointedly at Harry.

"No," Hermione said curtly. "No, this will have nothing to do with anyone taking a bath."

"Oh… too bad. I wouldn't mind, you know, Harry. Seems the talk in the loos is right; you've had a very good summer," Myrtle gave him another lascivious look.

"You know," Harry stood hastily, "I should probably get back to the common room before Ron wakes up and finds us both gone. He's not likely to think anything good about us being off somewhere without him."

"He's been acting a bit odd this year, don't you think?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "He's Ron."

Hermione nodded and let it go at that. "I'll be here a while longer starting the potion. If Ron asks, tell him I'm in the library working on Arithmancy."

As ill luck would have it, Ron was already awake when Harry made it back to the common room, but only just. He approached Harry with a serious case of bed-head, the red hair that was sticking up looking almost like a rooster's crown. "Hey, where were you? And where's Hermione?"

"We were working on some homework in the library. She's still there doing her Arithmancy."

Ron peered a long moment at Harry before nodding acceptance and heading up to the dorm room.

Harry sat down on the now-vacated couch and pulled out a book, thinking he'd wait up a bit for Hermione in case she returned to Gryffindor tower before it was too late in the evening. Once he had his book open, he placed the animagus spell against the pages and began to read the words that he'd almost completely memorized already. If anyone walked by, it would look like he was reading his history book. He was left alone, the open book a sure sign among students to leave another be, while Harry poured over the spell for the hundredth time.

❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾ ❾¾❾¾❾¾ ❾¾❾¾

Patch-work light filtered through the canopy and blanketed the jungle floor. Shadows sliced and slithered and danced amid shades of green, all shades of green, from pale green to primary green to jade to emerald. Even the tree trunks were wrapped in green, moss and ferns and climbing vines questing toward the sky. Birds and insects filled the world with sound, sounds that cut crisp and clear into his ears. He slunk along, close to the ground, smooth and sure. Muscles rippled and his senses were almost maddeningly acute. Not a bird wing fluttered or cricket jumped that he did not know about. He was part of the fabric of the jungle, and he felt its pulse through the bottom of his feet, heard it with his ears, tasted it on the wind. He crept through brush and passed under water-heavy leaves of fountain-like ferns, felt their tips trail along his back in perfect little pricks of contact. He came upon the stream snaking its way through the trees, trickling and rushing and sparkling in chunks of reflected sunlight. He moved closer, bent down to drink… and in the water's surface, his reflection, dancing and jumping, all he could make out his black hair and blue eyes.

Harry awoke abruptly and stared up at the canopy of his four poster bed. Early morning light spread from the window of the boys' dorm room, marking the hour as close to seven thirty. Harry blinked and took a deep breath, fighting to orient himself. His body was rigid and his skin flushed and coated in a sheen of sweat. His toes were curled. After a moment adjusting to being awake, he realized he was clutching his sheets in his fists. He consciously opened his fingers and let go his hold.

Harry sighed and rubbed at his face with both hands. The dream again. Harry had had his fair share of unusual dreams and tended not to think much of them, but for the past four nights, it had been one dream in particular. The jungle dream. It touched him so powerfully that he awoke as from a Voldemort vision-dream, but without the pain or terror or sensation of diseased rot in his blood. The jungle dream was similar in gripping him so intensely, in jarring him awake to find that his body had been just as gripped by the dream as his mind.

Harry sat up in bed and unexpectedly shivered in the morning air. For a moment, he'd actually expected the tropical heat of the jungle and not the balmy cool of Hogwarts. "That decides it," he muttered to himself as he got out of bed to get in a quick shower before he had to be down for breakfast. He'd not thought anything of the dream the first time except that it had been abnormal from his usual brand of dream, good or bad. When he had the same dream a second time he thought it an odd coincidence. After the third night, he began to wonder if he should tell Hermione. Now this, the fourth night in a row, made up his mind for him. He'd not wanted to bother her about something that might not be important, since she'd been working hard for a week trying to finish the animagus potion before the impending full moon, but it was now to the point where he knew she'd be offended if he didn't tell her.

She was already sitting at the Gryffindor table when he arrived down at the Great Hall for breakfast. She was nibbling on a muffin absently, her full attention on an open book on the table, slanted so she could fit both her plate and book before her. It forced her to cock her head to read as she chewed at the same time. Harry knew Hermione well enough to know that her chews would be timed with the completion of a sentence. Bites matched to new paragraphs, assuming they weren't short ones, drinks with page turns. It was a habit Harry thought strangely cute in his bookish friend.

There was a place empty beside Hermione and Harry sat down next to her. Hermione looked up at him and smiled. "Morning, Harry."

Harry glanced around, slid in closer to Hermione's side, and without thinking about it took her elbow in his hand. Hermione became more serious at once and leaned in closer. "What is it?"

Harry leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Have you been having any unusual dreams?"

Hermione's eyes brightened and Harry felt relieved. Hermione only lit up like that for good things. Her bright eyes from figuring out a nasty but vexing problem had a different glint, and Harry knew how to tell those glimmers apart.

"Yes, I have!" she whispered back excitedly, "Just last night, in fact." Harry took a quick look around to make sure no one was listening, and there were a few people watching them, but they looked more interested in the way Harry had sat down tight beside Hermione and at once bent close to whisper to her. Their smirks and elbow jabs at neighbors gave away their thoughts on the matter, and it wasn't that they could hear Harry and Hermione talking. That was what was important for now, so Harry ignored them. Hermione was too preoccupied by Harry's confession to even notice the looks cast their way.

Hermione had put her muffin down and shifted to more directly face Harry, though she dare not lean back or talk any louder. "This is just what we wanted to have happen, Harry," she said softly, "it means we're internalizing the transformation spell just as we should for it to work. It's become ingrained and it's finding its way into our dreams, part of our subconscious. Plus the tokens have been put in the potion to strengthen their magical connection, so that would amplify their link to us as well… this is great, Harry. It means our inner animals are stirring."

Harry was just glad to hear it wasn't him alone having unusual dreams. "So what did you dream?"

"I was in a field. There was yellow grass, and trees in the distance, and I was running. I was so fast." Hermione's eyes lost focus, took on a dreamy quality, and Harry knew that Hermione's dreams had been just as intense and visceral as his. He swallowed a lump in his throat at the thought of Hermione waking taut and shiny with sweat as he had. "I was thinking maybe it means I'm a gazelle or something. Wouldn't that be incredible if I was?" Hermione returned her attention sharply to Harry and leaned in closer, in her enthusiasm resting one hand on Harry's leg. "What did you dream, Harry?"

Harry glanced down at Hermione's hand on him then said, "Umm… I'm in a jungle. That's about it. It feels like I'm actually there."

Hermione nodded eagerly, "Me too."

"Ahem."

Harry and Hermione startled apart to see Ron had plopped down at the table across from them and was regarding them both sourly.

Hermione shifted away from Harry and removed her hand from his thigh. "Good morning, Ron."

Ron turned a particularly venomous glare at Harry but to Hermione said pleasantly enough, "Good morning, Hermione. So, what were you two talking about?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, just Potions."

Ron narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Uh huh."

Harry frowned and opened his mouth to ask Ron when he'd decided to start carrying his wand up his arse when Ginny exploded upon their tense little trio like a whirlwind.

"Hey! Did you guys hear about Ollivander?"

"No, what about him?" Harry asked, anxious for something to derail the inquisition Ron had started in on, even if it was to risk more of Ginny's blatant and uncomfortable overtures.

Ginny squeezed in next to Ron and said, "He was kidnapped. Right out of Diagon Alley last night."