A/N: Hey Everyone! Like so many people in this fandom, I LOVE Halloween and October in general. This is a little short multi-chapter that looks at what would have happened if the trio did NOT meet Sirius Black in year three. We join them in year six, instead. I will post a new chapter every Tuesday through the end of October, and I hope you enjoy this creepy, spooky, creature fic that I've come up with. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

HUGE shout out to Heeley and Calebski who both beta-read this for me. Honestly, they are both such angels, and I am eternally grateful for their assistance! Without it, this would probably be a jumbled, confusing, grammatically incorrect fic :) Thank you, lovelies!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

Hermione wrapped her jacket around her body a little bit tighter, hoping to ward off some of the cold. Even though it was only mid-September, it was surprisingly crisp, something that she mentioned to her two walking companions, wanting to break the silence that had settled between them.

"It's bloody cold," Ron agreed, rubbing his bare hands together, trying to get some warmth going, even though Hermione thought it was somewhat futile.

"Well, if you'd bothered to properly prepare for going outside, like I told you, maybe you'd be a little bit warmer," Hermione snapped back at him, sick of how he always managed to complain about something.

"You aren't my mum, Hermione, so stop acting like it," Ron responded, his ears going a bit red at being scolded.

She scoffed, wondering just what it was about him that could possibly attract her. She wasn't entirely sure if she really did like Ron or not, but she'd been grappling with the feelings for at least a year at this point. He was cute in a way, having started to fill out his previously gangly frame, and her heart did tend to stutter whenever she looked into his baby blue eyes.

Out of nowhere, she'd become fascinated with his hands of all things, and watching the way that his fingers held his quill when he actually bothered to take notes in class could be quite distracting. He even managed to be really sweet to her every now and again.

Hermione knew it was a real possibility that he liked her too. It was a little bit adorable how jealous he got whenever she was talking with Cormac McLaggen. She'd caught him staring at her more than once when she'd visited the Burrow that summer. Ginny was absolutely insistent that they would be dating before the year was over, and sometimes it felt like it was inevitable that they would become a couple sooner or later.

But then, he'd do something like open his big, stupid mouth and completely destroy the illusion for her. She would be left wondering just what it was about him that had been so attractive in the first place.

"Can you two just leave it?" Harry begged from his spot on the other side of Ron. "Yes, it's a little bit colder than I expected, but can't we just enjoy some fresh air before we're too busy with classes to get outside much?" Hermione knew that Harry hated playing the peace keeper between the two of them, so she nodded, wanting to enjoy the afternoon.

She'd expected that she would have felt closer with the two boys after their fight at the Ministry of Magic earlier that year, but instead, Hermione had been stuck recovering from the curse that Antonin Dolohov had gifted her with. Harry had been left to his own devices, blaming himself for the whole fight, seeing as it was his vision of Mr. Weasley being tortured that had brought them all to the Department in the first place. Hermione found his ways of coping very unhealthy, but she was unable to visit or write him very much, and it would have been too difficult for Ron to get him to open up about his feelings. The few times that she was able to see him, he'd been very closed off, and completely unreceptive to her help, insistent that he was fine.

She'd hoped Harry inviting them outside was a step in the right direction. That he was finally starting to forgive himself for putting them in danger. It wasn't as though she and Ron had been blind to the danger going in, or that he could have left them behind. Even if he had wanted to.

A gust of wind snapped Hermione's mind back to the present. She suddenly noticed it had grown dark out, and she wondered how long they'd been wandering aimlessly, listening to Harry drone on about how he was positive Malfoy was a Death Eater. Looking back towards the school, she realized that they'd gone much further around the Black Lake than typical as well. The flickering candlelight in the windows seemed warm and inviting. "It's getting rather late," She said regretfully. "I am sure that it's nearly dinner time. We should get headed back to the castle."

Ron's stomach grumbled loudly in agreement. Turning around to begin their trek back, Hermione felt a chill race up her spine when she realized that a slightly dense fog had formed on the lake. It was spilling over towards the Forbidden Forest. In the distance, a wolf howl. "Now that was eerie." Harry said, rubbing his hands on his arms, at the atmosphere that had been created. "Glad we decided to head back."

Hermione's eyes adjusted when she noticed the large form of...something...on the edge of the forest. At first she thought it might be Fang, Hagrid's lovable dog, but upon a second glance, she realized that the dog was much larger than Fang. "Do you see that dog?" She asked, pointing to wear it stood, clinging to the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. "It looks gigantic. I'm not sure I've ever seen a wild creature that large this close to Hogwarts."

"Yeah. I'm sure it's just a dog though. Maybe it wandered in from Hogsmeade, or Hagrid has a new pet he didn't tell us about. It's certainly not a wolf," Harry said off-hand, as soon as he got a better look at the animal. "Except normal dogs don't have red eyes…"

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried from next to them. "It's a bloody Grim! That's the Grim!" He was well panicked, pointing at the beast that seemed to be watching them with a bit too much consideration.

"Oh Ron, it's just a dog," Hermione admonished him, though she could feel her heart quicken a bit with fear at just how large the dog seemed to be. She wondered if she wasn't trying too hard to convince herself the same. It was just a dog wasn't it?

"What even is a Grim?" Harry asked.

"It's just an old myth, Harry," Hermione tried to explain, though she didn't know nearly as much about the topic as she would like. She didn't really see much point in reading about magical creatures that didn't even exist. "But don't worry - that's not a Grim, it's just a dog," she said insistently, glaring at Ron. It was preposterous, and she sometimes hated how superstitious the wizarding world could be.

Just as Ron was about to argue with her, the dog took a deliberate step forward. All three of them stilled in fear. That was, until the low growl echoed around the clearing, the sound seeming deafening, caging them in from all sides. Taking a steadying breath, Hermione tried to convince herself that it wasn't actually so loud. She couldn't focus on anything other than her heart beating wildly in her chest, tendrils of fear finally grabbing hold of her firmly and not letting her go.

"Run!" Ron yelled, his face transformed by his own terror, his blue eyes wild. Hermione and Harry didn't need to be told again; they took off sprinting for the castle, in a rush to get to safety. They didn't stop until they were in their seats in the Great Hall, trying to catch their breaths.

Seamus looked them up and down, his mood somewhere between amusement and concern. Seeing that Ron immediately went to filling his plate, he determined that whatever it was, it must not be too horrible if it hadn't disturbed Ron's famous appetite. "Oi, what's gotten into the lot of you?" he finally asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

"We were chased by a Grim," Ron said seriously, before taking a big bite out of his dinner roll.

Neville's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's just silly!" he said, thinking that the three of them must be mistaken. It sounded crazy. "You know that's just a myth, Ron - dogs or wolves seem larger because you let yourself get scared. The memory is very susceptible to fear." Hermione leaned forward and couldn't stop herself from giving Ron a triumphant look.

But Ron was not deterred in the slightest. "I'm telling you - it was staring right at us with it's huge, red, glowing eyes!" Ron insisted to Seamus, Dean and Neville, who were all pressed closer around the Gryffindor table, their own plates left temporarily abandoned while they listened to Ron's story. "And it had a huge mouth, looked as if it could just swallow us up whole. It's a bad omen, that's for sure."

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione cried, exasperated next to him. Of course, she'd been frightened when they were out on the grounds, but now that she was back in the warmth and safety of the castle, it just seemed silly. She did feel a bit childish having run away from the dog that they'd seen, too caught up in the terror with Harry and Ron to be left behind, but she certainly didn't believe that it was a bad omen. Ever since her third year, she'd had an extraordinarily poor opinion of Divination and the associated omens that they tended to preach. After all, Professor Trelawney regularly prophesied the deaths of her own students and not a single one had come true since Hermione had been at school.

Ron turned to glare at her, clearly none too pleased with her continued skepticism. "Say what you want Hermione, but that was a Grim and it's out wandering the Hogwarts grounds. You were the one who saw it first, so maybe it was looking for you," he told her seriously. "I don't fancy being marked for death, and if you don't too, you might not want to go out near the Forbidden Forest."

Despite herself and the warmth of the Great Hall, she felt a shiver race up her spine.

Hermione was happy to be curled up in a little reading nook in the library, while the boys talked Quidditch tactics in the common room. Quidditch discussion in general had reached an all time high since Ron had made the team as keeper (thanks in part to her...something she was still embarrassed that she'd done). Additionally, she was under the impression that Ron was still a bit put out with her for disagreeing with him about the grim that they'd seen. He hadn't made the usual effort that he did to include her in discussions.

It was fine for her, as she'd wanted nothing more than to catch up on her History of Magic reading. Professor Binns had assigned a rather large reading list, and it was very dry material, so some time to focus on the assignment was just what she needed. A warming charm protected her from the cold, damp weather on the other side of the pane of glass, and she was really getting a lot done.

That was, of course, until Crookshanks hopped up on the cushion with her, standing in front of her crossed legs, and letting out an extremely loud yowl. Hermione blushed at just how noisy her familiar was when he needed to be, she reached around her book to give him a scratch behind his ears, trying to continue her work. To her dismay, Crooks yowled again, and then pressed a paw to the top of her book, forcing her to put it down.

Hermione stared at her half-kneazle, wondering just what it was that had gotten into him. "Crookshanks!" she scolded the orange, bandy-legged cat. "What do you want? Surely you've had enough treats for the day." She'd found that Crookshanks had chewed through the bottom of his treat bag, leaving it - unfortunately for him - empty.

Crookshanks only bayed again, hopping off the cushion, and then stopping to stare back at her. Hermione's eyebrows knit together in confusion. It almost seemed as if Crookshanks wanted her to follow him. Knowing that he was a rather intelligent animal, Hermione reluctantly packed her bags, and stood up from the bench. As if he were quite pleased with her, Crookshanks rubbed himself against her legs - leaving her grey knee socks covered in orange fur, thank you very much - before trotting off in the direction of the exit.

She stared after him, feeling a bit dumbfounded, only to have Crookshanks turn and look back to find his mistress wasn't following. He sat down again, and started caterwauling so loudly that she was positive that Madame Pince would kick her out. "Alright, Crooks!" she whispered furiously, making the short walk between herself and her familiar. When she finally caught up with him, he started trotting off again, and Hermione reluctantly followed, her pace quick in an effort to keep up with the little rascal.

The brunette followed him directly out of the library, praying that no one she knew had seen her being lead about by her cat, as she was positive she would never be able to live down the humiliation. She followed Crookshanks down the flights of stairs, past the Great Hall, until they were standing in front of the giant wooden doors that marked the entrance of the school. Crookshanks began pawing at the door, taking great pleasure in sinking his claws into the old wood. Clearly, he wanted to go outside.

"I don't have my jacket, Crooks. Surely this can wait until I pop up to Gryffindor Tower to get it?" she questioned, only to have Crookshanks yowl in displeasure once more. Hermione blushed, hoping that no one saw her having an honest conversation with her familiar. In the back of her mind, she wondered if perhaps she had gone a bit mental, taking orders from a bossy cat. "Alright, have it your way," she conceded, pushing the door open, and following Crookshanks out into the icy winds.

Immediately, the damp sunk into her skin, slinking past her sweater as easily as if it she were wearing nothing at all. A feeling of unease gripped her, but Crookshanks was just so insistent, that she found herself following him off the path and onto the Hogwarts grounds, hugging the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Fog seeped out at the edges, and Hermione tried to push the memory of the giant dog that they had seen from her thoughts. It wasn't as if Crookshanks would lead her to any danger, seeing as he was her familiar after all.

When they'd finally traveled far enough along the Forest's edge that they could no longer see the castle, Hermione paused. "Crookshanks, we are getting close to the school wards," she said nervously, feeling the magic that protected Hogwarts, and all the students within it, weaken. She wasn't sure if she should follow. But, Crookshanks would not to be deterred by crossing magical barriers meant to keep her safe. Sighing, Hermione followed the half-kneazle's lead, wondering just what he could possibly have to show her that would be in the caves.

A low, piercing growl caught her attention as soon as they'd passed through the entrance, sending a bolt of terror up her spine once again, only to settle into the pit of her belly. Crookshanks wasn't worried in the slightest, and trotted further inside, out of sight.

Nervous, Hermione followed hesitantly. "Lumos," she whispered, only to wander further into the cave, jumping at every echo or noise. When she finally rejoined Crookshanks, she gasped in horror.

Crookshanks was seated, staring down at the giant, black dog that she had seen with the boys previously. Only, it wasn't so big and menacing when it's paw and side were bloody. Gasping, Hermione dropped to her knees next to the creature, ignoring his snaps and growls, knowing that it was only doing it because he was hurt. All of her fear had vanished. "Oh, you poor thing," she lamented. "It looks like you got hit with a cutting hex," she said, gently reaching out to touch the beast's fur, hoping to comfort it.

The dog snarled at her, startling her and making her fall back onto her arse, her heart pounding against her chest. She was a bit annoyed, because she just wanted to help the poor thing, but then she remembered that he was probably scared and it was likely that another witch or wizard was who hurt him in the first place. She couldn't blame the dog for not being very trusting. Righting herself, Hermione leaned forward, cautiously, ignoring the low growls until he let her touch him.

Casting a bluebell flame, Hermione was determined that she would heal the dog, cursing under her breath the whole time that she watched the animal's flesh knit back together. "I hate that someone did this to you. You aren't a grim at all, but wizards are far too superstitious for their own good." Once his skin was fixed, Hermione used an aguamenti charm to wash away some of the blood that had matted into the dog's fur.

By the time that she was finished, she found that he was no longer growling, and instead watching her work with a curious look. If dogs could have a curious look, that is. Reaching up to scratch him behind the ears, Hermione smiled looking at his face. "You don't have glowing red eyes at all, do you boy?" she questioned, even though he couldn't answer. "Ron doesn't know what he's talking about." It was true that the dog didn't have red eyes - instead they were a brilliant, mercurial grey that seemed almost out of place on an animal. His fur was lush and coal black. He was a rather good looking dog, only, it seemed a bit funny to say.

The dog lolled his tongue out at her, enjoying the pets and scratches that she was giving him. Once she was assured that the dog was content and no longer injured, she stood up, giving a proud look at Crookshanks. "And you, Crooksie, you are such a good cat to bring me here. I think that I am going to head back to the castle. Are you going to stay here with your new friend?"

Crookshanks stood, tail proudly in the air, purring in approval at having been praised by his excited owner. He walked in a circle, spinning around three times, before curling up in a ball between the black dog's front paws. Laughing at the sight, Hermione cast a warming charm on the pair, hoping to stave off the chill of the afternoon a little bit, before turning to leave and head back to the castle. Initially, she'd felt a bit like Crookshanks had lead her on a wild goose chase, but she was glad that he'd brought her to the poor injured dog. Who knew if the dog would have been able to ever heal properly without her assistance?

Happily, she walked back towards the castle, completely unaware of what happened in the cave once she'd left. Once he was certain she was gone, the dog began transforming, limbs stretching and mutating, until the space that was once occupied by the black dog was instead home to a rather frazzled looking man, blanket clutched around his form.

Meowing, Crookshanks rubbed himself against the man's bare legs, demanding attention. The man looked down at the odd little half-kneazle, giving it a lopsided grin. "You were right, Crooks. Your witch is alright."