AN: This was an entry for the HP LiveJournal Creaturefest.

"Oh my god, Harry, is that a new pet?" Hermione asked upon seeing the furry animal behind her friend.

It was a big, sleek kneazle with fur so white it was almost pearl-like in its sheen. It had been making its way across the room when it spotted her and stopped in the midst of a step, one paw in midair. Now it sat on its haunches, with its head tilted to one side as it surveyed her.

"Er, no," Harry said, looking somewhat ill at ease. It could have been her imagination, but it seemed as though he were trying to close the door on her.

"Harry!" she protested with a slight laugh, holding the door open with one hand. "Are you all right?"

"I'm going to have to cancel, Hermione. It's just not a good time," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. He looked frazzled.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're looking more, er, mussed than normal," she added, eyes flicking up to his hair, which roughly resembled the Whomping Willow after it had shaken itself in all directions.

"Get rid of it, Harry, or else!" yelled another voice inside the house, which resolved itself to belong to Ginny. A baby's cry echoed her and was followed up with a groan from Harry.

"Oh, hello, Hermione, we're having a bit of a marital crisis here. Have you come to take the kneazle off our hands?" Ginny said, red head popping up from behind Harry. Her hair also looked messier than her usual coiffed state.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, looking at Harry and then what she could see of Ginny.

Ginny stood on tiptoe to complain to Hermione, only to frown upon seeing that she was still standing outside. "Come in, for heaven's sake. What are you doing still standing there? Harry, could you get some tea?"

Harry's eyes darted this and that way before he reluctantly pulled the door open all the way. He stopped in front of the animal, stooped as though to pick it up. The kneazle reared back and hissed. Harry grumbled something and marched from the room.

"What's going on, Ginny?" Hermione asked, moving towards the animal and squatting down with her hand outstretched so that the kneazle could come forward to make her acquaintance. It circled her once before flicking its tail under her chin. Hermione giggled and stroked the animal head to tail. It purred in satisfaction under her attentions.

Ginny heaved a sigh, bouncing James on her hip and cuffing his chubby arms from trying to reach down for the animal. "James is allergic to animals and has a really bad rash. What was Harry thinking, bringing a kneazle home? Now James spends all day trying to play tag with it," Ginny said, throwing up her hands. "I'm up to here with Harry, honestly. James has been fussing all week, and now this."

"But she's so pretty," Hermione said, sitting down and letting the kneazle climb into her lap. "It's a she, right? Let me see."

As Hermione moved to lift the animal into the air to check its sex, it jumped out of her arms and hissed over its shoulder at her.

"Sorry," Hermione said to the animal. "He?"

The kneazle purred and stalked back to allow Hermione to scratch its ears again.

"It's rare for a kneazle to be pure white, you know," she said absently to Ginny. "Usually, they have patches or they're spotted. It must be very valuable. Where did Harry pick him up?"

"That's the thing. Ever since this past quarter when Harry's been paired up with Malfoy, the two of them have gotten up to hijinks like you would not believe. It's enough to drive one up the wall. I didn't even ask this time, since this is far less inconvenient than the other things he's gotten up to recently."

"Oh, is their little bromance still going on?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Last month, they were hauled up in front of their supervisor on three separate occasions."

"I think I remember that. They were stuck in a portal cabinet and were sent to Siberia, right?"

"Yes. That was the day I had to get all my applications out, and I really didn't appreciate having to stand in line for an international portkey to Siberia in the middle of the night. Anyway, that was before they were stuck in the Vanishing Mirror for a week, and before they found the Cursed Trident and flooded Hogwarts. I've seriously considered asking to have them separated. If it were anyone else, I would suspect Harry was cheating on me, he's gone for 'work' so often since being paired up with him."

Hermione laughed. "I had no idea. Well, Harry's married to you. It doesn't mean that Malfoy isn't keen on him, however-ow!" She gazed reproachfully at the kneazle who had just nipped her finger.

"See? It's probably diseased! Why would Harry bring it home to an allergic infant? Are you alright, Hermione? Do you need to go to St. Mungo's?"

"No, it didn't break the skin," Hermione said, turning her hand this way and that.

"Here's the tea," Harry said, bringing out a tray.

The two women watched as Harry poured out four cups, added a little milk into the fourth cup and set it on the ground. The kneazle ambled over and sniffed at the tea before turning away. Harry heaved a sigh and spooned two teaspoons of sugar into the cup. The kneazle purred in acknowledgement and deigned to lap at the tea.

"Er, Harry?" Hermione said as Ginny said, "See what I mean?"

"I don't think that kneazles should be eating so much sugar," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows. "Generally, I feed Crookshanks meat and seafood. He really likes seafood."

"Well, this kneazle prefers lots of sweets," Harry grumbled.

"I'm sure you're wrong about that," Hermione lectured. "What have you been giving him?"

Harry threw his hands up in the air and started grumbling at a rapid tempo. "What haven't I been giving him? If it isn't one thing, it's another. Now I have to finish the paperwork on my own, because I don't know how long this curse will take to break. And in addition, I have to put in a leave of absence for Malfoy and-"

The kneazle suddenly swiped Harry across the shins and slashed open his trousers at the legs. Harry pursed his lips and glared at the kneazle with barely suppressed frustration.

"I know, dammit. I'll stop! Fine! Fine!" Harry was saying to the kneazle.

"He's lost it," Ginny said, eyes wide. "It's all those crucios. Luna did warn me there would be additional wrackspurts from them, but I didn't listen."

"It's perfectly normal to talk to your pet," Hermione said calmly, fixing Harry's pants with a flick of her wand. "Harry, calm down. You're making him more upset."

The kneazle had sat back on its haunches and was yowling back at Harry for all as though he were offended by Harry's ranting.

"What's his name?" Hermione asked, reaching for the kneazle again. At first it resisted in favor of walking over Harry's feet, but it subsided under her scratching of its ears.

"Dra-er... Ferret," Harry corrected with a decisive nod.

"You named him Ferret?" Hermione asked incredulously as Ginny rolled her eyes.

"See?" Ginny said. "Further proof of their illicit love affair. He's named the kneazle after Malfoy."

"Why would you do a thing like that? If you don't like him, return him. I'm sure a pretty animal like him could find a new owner quickly," Hermione said, and was rewarded by the kneazle butting her under the chin for her compliment.

"Ugh," muttered Ginny with distaste.

Harry was similarly glaring at the animal. "Unfortunately not. No returns of any kind."

Hermione laughed. "Pinch punch, first of the month!"

Harry's scowl relaxed into a smile. "A slap and a kick for being so quick," he replied.

Ginny looked from one to the other of them in bewilderment, a movement the kneazle shared.

"It's a Muggle nursery rhyme," Hermione explained to Ginny. "Its origins are surprisingly appropriate, hailing from mediaeval times, when a pinch of salt and an accompanying punch could ward off witches."

"Yes, Dudley liked to play that with me," Harry said sourly. "And trust me, he could pack a punch."

"That's the perfect name for him," Hermione said, clapping her hands together. "Pinchpunch."

The kneazle yowled and drew long scratches in the floor. Harry cleared them away and smiled ferally at the kneazle. "Do you hear that, Pinchpunch? If you're not good, I'll do exactly that to you. A pinch and a punch."

"Harry!" Hermione protested. "You do realize I'm in the Department for the Protection of Magical Beasts and Species? I don't want to have to take this animal away from you for animal cruelty."

At that, both Ginny and Harry turned their faces towards Hermione, who took a step back in response.

"Could you, Hermione?" Ginny pleaded. "Please? Pretty please with sugar and knobs on?" She made little James clasp his hands together as though he, too, were in supplication.

The kneazle had slowly began to back from the room.

"Actually," Harry said slowly, taking off his glasses and blowing on the lens. "That's not a bad idea."

"While I would love to-Pinchpunch is a gorgeous kneazle and clearly house-trained and very well-bred-I'm not sure Crookshanks would like him. They can be very territorial, you know."

Ginny began to beg in earnest. "Oh, Hermione, I really don't like animals that much-I have six brothers, you know, and the things they kept would have given you nightmares. And James! Poor James, his rash is really serious, poor child. Here, just look at all his scratches, he's been itching so much. You can see for yourself the state he's in. It's child abuse, it really is, to subject such a young child to a nasty kneazle when he has allergies."

"That would be great, Hermione," Harry said. "Really. Truly. It would be the answer to all my problems. I have to go into the office anyway, because there's something incredibly pressing I need to fix at once, and well," Harry sighed stagily, "I just don't think I can trust Ginny not to abuse the poor animal. She can be quite violent, you know."

Ginny responded to this with a glare and a punch aimed at Harry, which he avoided by nipping sideways. "You see?" he said.

Hermione stared at Harry. "Are you trying to manipulate me?"

"A little," he admitted. "But come on! Ginny and I have no idea how to care for a kneazle-you do. If it were up to me, I'd just kick him out of the house." Harry raised a foot in illustration.

"That's it!" Hermione shouted, running forward and scooped the kneazle off the ground, while it protested and tried to leap free. "I'm taking Pinchpunch with me at once. Don't think I won't remember this, Harry. I never took you for an animal abuser."

"You'll see," he said gloomily. "He's not an animal. He's the worst."

X.x.X

He really was the most gorgeous animal, thought Hermione, stroking the kneazle head to tail.

Hermione had apparated them back to her home, after which Pinchpunch had promptly vomited on her rug. She cleaned up the mess with her wand while the kneazle sulked in a corner. Then Hermione had gotten to work trying to win Pinchpunch over before Crookshanks returned from his daily stalking.

"Pinchpunch," she sang, dangling a brush by the handle. "Here, boy. You'll enjoy this."

And enjoyed the grooming he did, with such loud purrs that Hermione was almost deafened. Not only that, he was soon belly-up on Hermione's lap in a position as unlike a kneazle could ever be. She had read that kneazles seldom showed their underside to people they didn't trust, but clearly he trusted her.

"Oh, you're a beautiful boy, aren't you?" she cooed at him, nuzzling him with her head. She could have been wrong, but the sound he was making were so human, as though he was groaning.

They were interrupted by a loud hissing. Hermione looked up to see Crookshanks, tail lashing back and forth. He was clearly not pleased by the new turn of events.

Hermione pushed Pinchpunch off her lap, which he did not take calmly. Still, he had no choice when Hermione stood up and dumped him onto the floor.

The two animals eyed each other. Crookshanks circled the newcomer with a few hisses. Hermione went to the kitchen and came back with his favorite snack-Devon crab tidbits. Apparently Harry hadn't been lying when he hinted at Pinchpunch's particular tastes-the white kneazle sauntered over, gave it a sniff or two of disdain, and then sidled off.

Crookshanks, who had swatted a paw at his rival, was slightly pacified when Pinchpunch didn't leap for his food. Still, he kept a wary eye on the kneazle as he wound his body between Hermione's legs.

It was fascinating to see the two interact, Hermione thought when her Floo whooshed and Ron stepped through.

"Hey," he said. "Should we go?" Ron's eyes fell on the two animals and his lips curled in an ill manner. "You got another cat?"

"This one's a full-blooded kneazle," Hermione explained. "He's very rare too. Look at that beautiful fur."

"It looks like something the Malfoys would own," Ron said.

Hermione looked at Pinchpunch with surprise. "You're right. They are incredibly obsessed with albino animals."

"Harry and Ginny can't go," Ron said. "They're having some issues."

"I know. I was just there. Where do you think I got the kneazle?"

"It belongs to Harry?" Ron asked, his eyes bugging. "Since when? How?"

Hermione paused. "You know, in all the excitement, I forgot to ask him where it came from. Hey, what's happening with him at work? He seemed incredibly stressed."

"Malfoy volunteered them for all sorts of animal trafficking cases. I guess Harry isn't a fan."

"That makes sense," Hermione said, gazing at Pinchpunch who was sitting with his back to Ron.

"I hope it's spayed," Ron went on. "Otherwise you'll come back to a flat filled with little kneazles."

"It's male," Hermione said. "But that's a good point. I need to put up signs. If nobody claims him in the next two weeks or so, I'll have to see about getting him neutered."

Pinchpunch hadn't stopped to listen to more; he had raced from the room.

X.x.X

"No, definitely do not get him neutered!" Harry yelled over the Floo. "Do I need to come over there?"

"No, it's just…he keeps yowling," Hermione said through the fire. "I've never heard an animal make such strange noises. I'm going to sleep soon, and I don't know what to do with him."

"Give him some Draught of Peace," Harry said. "Knock him out over the head. But don't neuter him! You got it, Hermione?"

"I think all my neighbors got it," she said. "And I don't think your suggestions are any more humane, Harry."

"Give him some chocolate or something. He's probably hungry."

"That's the thing; he won't eat any of Crookshank's cat food, not even the really high-end stuff."

Harry snorted. Hermione couldn't tell if he was amused or annoyed. "Let him starve for a few meals. It won't hurt him."

"But-"

"You're doing great, Hermione. Love you!" Harry said before getting off the Floo.

Hermione got off her knees to stare up at the kneazle, who had perched on top of her table to stare back at her. She had often thought Crookshanks was almost like a human in the way he looked at people, but he had nothing on Pinchpunch. Now that Ron had mentioned it, he looked exactly like something Draco Malfoy would own. He even had pale colored eyes to go with that coat of white-gold.

"You even look like him," Hermione said to the kneazle. "You could practically be his familiar."

After a moment of arguing with herself, Hermione went to her kitchen and got out her seldom used tea set. Unlike her friends, she usually drank coffee. She did what Harry had done and steeped some teabags to make some tea for the kneazle. Pinchpunch sat straight backed on one of her kitchen chairs and watched her. At some point she thought he even hissed at her using teabags instead of actual tea leaves.

Finally, she poured the tea into a cup along with a little milk and two sugars. As an afterthought, Hermione put two chocolates on a saucer for him on the table. She watched as Pinchpunch drank the tea and then daintily nibbled at the chocolate.

"Incredible," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Now may I get some sleep, please? I need to go to work tomorrow."

Crookshanks looked disapprovingly at the two of them and yowled his displeasure. He didn't approve of any of this, yet the new kneazle was bigger and didn't seem as though it wanted to steal any of Crookshanks' tasty cat snacks or any the places he liked to be; like the cardboard box next to the television or on top of the television itself. He was pretty sure that he could outlast that strange kneazle that definitely didn't smell like any kneazle Crookshanks had ever known.

Hermione hoped the kneazle's adjustment period wasn't going to be too difficult for her, since it seemed as though he was definitely sulking. She had made a perfectly nice bed for him out of a blanket and a long pillow tucked end to end so that it formed a semi-circle. But he had sniffed around the bedding before glaring at her and leaping on top of her bed. It was possible that he had even been trying to kick her from her own bed, but she wasn't having any of that.

"That's enough," she said. "You didn't like the kitchen. You didn't like the bathroom, or the living area. I'm sorry this place isn't up to your standards, but it's either here or my closet."

After yowling for a minute that Hermione was afraid would turn into twenty, Pinchpunch finally deigned to lie down.

Crookshanks had never been this much trouble.

X.x.X

Hermione was halfway through her work for the morning when a patronus came from Ron: "Urgent. Harry injured. Meet at St. Mungo's."

She actually heaved a long-suffering sigh, because it had been the latest in the string of escapades leading him and Malfoy straight to hospital beds.

"What's happened?" she asked Ron when she flooed to the hospital and found him standing outside a closed hospital room.

"Obliviation hex," Ron said darkly. "It looks bad."

"They can reverse it, right?" Hermione asked, her brows drawing together.

"Malfoy's nowhere to be found," Ron added. "It's looking pretty grim."

Ginny came walking down the hall next to two healers. When she saw them, her face crumpled for a moment before she firmed her lips. The healers excused themselves and Ginny walked towards them. "It could be worse, I suppose," she said, trying to smile. "He could have been made to forget I existed."

"How far back did they obliviate?" Hermione asked.

"A week," Ginny said and cleared her throat. "Not the worst in the grand scheme of things, but it's constant, these harrying cases of his."

"They need to reverse it, in any case. Malfoy could still be out in the field," Ron said, rubbing his chin. "I need to get back. We're probably going to have to work round the clock on this."

"Maybe they'll separate them after this?" Hermione said weakly.

"If they can find Malfoy," Ginny sniffed, and Hermione pulled the other girl into a comforting embrace. "They need Harry's memories to find Malfoy, and they need Malfoy to figure out how to reverse the spell. It's horrible."

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon on personal leave, figuring out what she could do for Ginny. She had volunteered to watch James while Ginny sat with Harry, but Ginny had opted to let her kneazle-less mother care for her allergic infant.

"Thanks anyway," Ginny said with a forced smile. "Keep an eye on that kneazle though, since that was the last thing they were working on before this latest disaster."

Both her pets seemed to sense her worry when she returned home that night. Crookshanks purred and jumped on her lap as he was prone to do when she was upset. Pinchpunch paced about the room watching them with his shoulders raised for all as though he were a jungle cat stalking prey or staking out territory.

"Harry's gotten himself in trouble again," Hermione said absently to Crookshanks as she brushed him. She didn't see the white kneazle freeze in his pacing and stand stock still.

In the next moment, however, she had been pushed backwards into the sofa cushions and Crookshanks was protesting with snarls. The snarls went unnoticed as Pinchpunch leaped over the smaller cat's body, placing front paws on Hermione's chest; whiskered face so close that she was once more able to see his surprisingly human eyes. Kneazle eyes were usually slitted, weren't they? Pinchpunch had incredibly human, round, dark pupils. She was also quite sure she had never before seen a cat with grey eyes, like the color of the sky before a lightning storm. He opened his mouth and Hermione half expected him to be able to talk. Instead the sound that came out was "rowr-rowr."

"I know, I know, you want some tea," Hermione said tiredly and tried to get up against the weight of two animals pressing her down.

Pinchpunch lifted one paw and then pressed it against her shoulder. He made the same agitated sound.

"You're worried about Harry?" Hermione said with a wry smile. "He'd love to hear that, I'm sure," she said in her usual conversational tone when she was alone with her cat. "Except I'm afraid he'll have forgotten all about you for the foreseeable future. He's in the hospital."

The cat seemed to freeze above her, and Hermione was able to push both animals aside to stand up. She went into the kitchen to check on Crookshanks's bowl and the makeshift one she had put out for the white kneazle. Unsurprisingly, it was untouched. Hermione sighed and opened the shopping bag she had brought home with her.

"I know you don't like cat food, Pinch," she said aloud. "But you need to eat. How about tuna instead? I have a tuna sandwich melt here. If you eat that, I'll give you a chocolate."

Pinchpunch looked offended, tail lashing back and forth in a dangerously controlled fashion.

"Here's your tea, anyway. At least you're taking in some protein from the milk," Hermione said.

Pinchpunch followed her, yowling his displeasure. He followed her so closely she kept tripping over him, and he would occasionally put one paw on her leg to stop her. Finally, she scooped him up. "Pinch, I have to get in to work early tomorrow because I took the afternoon off today. So, please be a good kneazle and let me sleep, will you? I'm sure Harry will be alright. The healers are working on him. He won't have lost more than a week, they think. By the time we wake up, he'll have remembered everything."

Somehow the kneazle didn't look convinced, and neither was Hermione.

X.x.X

Pinchpunch was unnaturally alert the next morning when Hermione woke up. She had the uneasy feeling that the kneazle had watched her sleep the entire night so as not to miss her leaving for work in the morning. Really, his actions were more human than some humans. He sat square on her counterpane, tail flicking back and forth as he stared at her with unblinking eyes.

Hermione set out food and water as usual for Crookshanks, but noted that Pinchpunch had followed her from the bedroom to continue watching her with those unnaturally human grey eyes. When she debated with herself what to set out for the white kneazle that he would actually eat, she glanced over and found him sitting square on top of her beaded bag.

Hermione raised her eyebrows slowly. "Actually, that's not a bad idea," she thought aloud. "Ginny did say you were the last case Harry was working on. Maybe illegal kneazle breeders? But Harry would have come to me with that information. Still…"

Hermione took a look around her living area and decided to transfigure one of her plastic storage bins into a pet carrier. The usually finicky kneazle willingly got in as soon as Hermione opened up the barred opening. Then, she floo'd to the Ministry.

She took the elevator to the Department of Law Enforcement and made her way to Ron's office. Unsurprisingly, the door was open and the light on. Ron had clearly been at his desk for most of the night.

"Hey," Ron said, glancing up briefly at Hermione before looking back down at the papers in his hands.

"Any news?" Hermione asked after they had briefly hugged.

"Well, Harry's all right, if that's what you mean. But we've checked up on Malfoy's whereabouts and he's definitely missing. Unfortunately we haven't the slightest idea where to start looking."

"Oh." Hermione had no idea how else to respond. After dropping out of the Auror Program, she was completely out of the loop as to law enforcement pertaining to illegal magic and wizardry. The most exciting thing that had happened to her since she joined her department was the opening of a sanctuary for abandoned magical animals. That was the most proactive thing she had under her belt, at least. Her Proposed House Elf Rights Program was dead in the water, due to some five hundred house elves taking up a petition against freedom. Her Werewolf Rights Initiative had been knocked aside by the Werefolk Alliance, who wanted the right to decide their own rights and were unhappy that only one group (far in the minority) were singled out for possible preferential treatment.

Things that Ron and Harry participated in regularly were harrying and risky and right up both their alleys. At one time, she wouldn't have thought it was in the character of one Draco Malfoy to pursue a career that eschewed personal safety. Mouthy and impassioned he had always been, but also completely self-serving. But clearly he had changed also. Hermione thought back of the hair-raising chances she once took and knew without a doubt that nobody would ever get her to do similar activities again, feeling now as she did about mortality. She didn't know anything new about Malfoy since she had stopped attending the raucous benders the Auror department threw whenever a particularly nasty case had been closed. All she knew was that the last few cases Harry and Malfoy had been assigned involved an array of magical beasts, but she was never involved, though, given her current stint in policy writing instead of liaison to enforcement.

"I brought Pinchpunch," Hermione said, awkwardly lifting the animal case and setting it down on a corner of Ron's desk.

Ron frowned in confusion. "Yeah?" he replied warily.

Hermione made to let the kneazle out, but Ron stopped her. "Don't do that, 'Mione, I've got a system going here, and that animal could mess it all up."

She nodded and relatched the door, ignoring the hissing from inside the carrier and the animal's paws trying to bat at her from within.

"Well, I brought him because Harry got him somehow, and Ginny thinks it was related to his last case. Do you-do you know anything about that?"

Ron flipped through several of the files on his desk. "I'm working my way through his last five cases, all of which were closed out this past week. Kneazle, you say? I need to look at the last of these files before I can tell you anything. So far, not a clue as to what you're saying."

"Where was Harry found? Could that maybe be a clue?" Hermione suggested, feeling useless just standing there.

Ron looked even grimmer. He took a deep breath and scratched his chin. The sound of nails scraping across stubble filled the room against the backdrop of Pinchpunch's complaints. "Department of Mysteries."

Hermione and Ron shared a look. "You don't think…" she said, unable to finish the thought. Sirius Black falling through the Veil was a horrible enough experience for Harry, and Sirius had been a man past his prime. The thought of Draco Malfoy, someone who had once been her biggest adversary but had somehow transformed into a civil acquaintance, falling through that same Veil before he had reached the age of thirty was somehow unthinkable.

"We don't know," Ron said finally. "We won't jump to conclusions or close the case until his wand's at least been found, but I'm not the least bit chuffed about visiting his mum. She's terrifying, that woman is.

"Anyway, our extractor's been dispatched to the hospital to review Harry's memories. Maybe there's something there. We're lucky the hex only wiped the past week. If farther than that had been tampered with…" Ron shook his head. "It's not just Malfoy that we're worried about; Harry's got other cases on the line."

"Will you let me know if you need anything else?" Hermione asked.

"Sure," Ron said with a smile and came around his desk to show her to the door. "It'll be fine, 'Mione. You know Harry, he's got the luck of the devil."

Neither wanted to voice the thought in their head-that Draco Malfoy did not.

X.x.X

Hermione let the kneazle out in her office. He came out spitting and snarling, although Hermione was relieved to note that his claws were sheathed. She watched him pace the confines of her room, his tail going from an exclamation point to a question mark as he calmed down. Then, he leaped onto her desk and stepped purposefully on her hand. It didn't hurt, but it was obvious he wanted her attention.

"What is it, Pinch?" she asked. He let up on her hand, and she turned it over, her wand resting in the palm of her hand.

The kneazle laid a paw tentatively-almost reverently-on her wand, but nothing happened. Hermione wasn't sure what was to have happened, but she was somehow disappointed. Pinchpunch swatted the wand from her palm in a fit of temper and stalked away to leap from her desk.

Hermione's heart began to race as she stood. What if…?

She had known many animagi in her lifetime, including another cat. She found herself taking ahold of Pinchpunch's left paw and rotating it slightly to see the inside of his front leg. Her breath came and went as she saw a mat of white hair and no visible scar except a juxtaposition of brown fur-the only patch he had. She lifted him up under both arms to examine his underbelly, where she knew for certain another scar should have been-courtesy of the sectumsempra Harry had given him. Again, there was nothing.

She ran a few diagnostic scans over the kneazle-again revealing nothing. He stood completely still as she executed a series of finite charms, but nothing happened. She didn't know what she had expected. Her imagination was working overtime, that was all.

Disappointed, she set him back down. If Malfoy had been an animagus, he would have registered with the Animagus Registry, especially given his Auror status. Also, she wasn't completely certain, but his patronus had definitely not been a kneazle. To top it off, an animagus had no need of a wand and could transform at will. Hermione shook her head a bit to clear it.

"I guess you're just worried about Harry, yeah?" she murmured to the kneazle, leaning forward so that they were eye to eye on her desk. He blinked twice and looked away from her, swishing his tail in a contemptuous manner. Clearly, she had failed to please him in some way.

After work, she took Pinchpunch with her to 's. She was stopped by hospital administration, who told her she needed to get permission to bring in an animal. Injured animals, she was told with some attitude, went to the Center for Magizoology.

"This is an important witness in Harry Potter's case," Hermione said coolly. "I should have gotten a letter from Auror Ron Weasley, but was told it wouldn't be necessary." It was a bold-faced lie, but she thought Pinchpunch would probably approve.

As expected, she got a few low mutters about how this was unorthodox and against the rules, but how everyone in the hospital was pulling for Harry, so this would be an exception just this once.

Harry looked up and smiled at Hermione when she came in. He looked tired.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked, sitting gingerly on the bed after setting the carrier on a chair.

"Yeah. Just tired. Had to pull endless memories out for the Pensieve."

"Still nothing?"

Harry hesitated. "Nothing. They told me that Malfoy is missing. Have they got any…updates?"

"No," Hermione tried to say over the sound of the kneazle's vociferations.

"Is that-? Did you bring Crookshanks?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Hermione let the kneazle out and carried him over to the bed. Harry shrank away.

"Er… Hermione, why'd you bring a cat to the hospital with you?"

"Doesn't jog any memories then?" she asked, disappointed. "You had this kneazle with you when I saw you a few days ago. Ginny thought it had something to do with your last case?"

Harry was leaning back against the headboard away from the animal. "Er, no, not ringing any bells there."

Pinchpunch reached up and swiped Harry across the face.

"What the bloody hell?" Harry yelped, leaning away. "Is it rabid?"

"I think he's trying to tell you something," Hermione said.

"Well, get it away, please," Harry said. "Its breath is foul!"

"It's not so bad," Hermione defended, picking up the animal.

"Too bad it's not Malfoy," Harry grumbled. "It looks just like the tosser, with his white hair."

The kneazle strained away from Hermione and leaned towards Harry again.

"It looks like he really likes you, Harry. Do you want to take him home for a bit?" Hermione suggested.

"Lud, no," he said, shuddering. "Ginny's already in a state because James has been so fussy. Apparently he broke out in a rash recently, which I also can't recall."

"Yes, you two were fighting about it when I went over on Sunday," Hermione said. "You were...a bit out of sorts. Kept muttering about work and Malfoy."

Harry shook his head, pulling at his hair with one hand. "I feel horrible. I can't believe-well, it's my fault, isn't it? Stands to reason. I was the last one to be with him, and I can't even remember it... and he's gone missing."

The kneazle was intent on clawing the bedsheets into shreds.

"We'll figure it out," Hermione said, taking her eyes off Pinchpunch. "Ron was up all night, trying to make sense of your last few cases. I'd assume that Reinhardt is doing the same on Malfoy's end."

Harry sighed. "Soon as I'm out of here, I'm going to track down that git. Did you-have they-they told me I was found in the Department of Mysteries…somewhere near the Veil. What if…"

Hermione reached across and squeezed Harry's hand. "Malfoy would have known better than to approach the Veil," she said. "He's not... Sirius."

"Right. Right," Harry said, taking a deep breath.

X.x.X

In the weeks that followed, things went from bad to worse. Harry was released from the hospital and Malfoy's wand was found in his things. His last pensieve memories featured a heated argument with his partner.

"I've had it with you picking the assignments!" Harry yelled.

"Like you could have done better?" Malfoy retorted.

"I sure as hell wouldn't have chosen the runespoor peddling over the imperiused children case, but we all know you don't give a knut about Muggleborn children," Harry lashed out.

"What the hell did you just say to me, Potter?" Malfoy had responded, head tilted back and eyes glittering dangerously. "Are you accusing me of blood prejudice? After all these years?"

"Why wouldn't you take that other case, Malfoy? Huh? You tell me! You're the premier Dark Arts expert in the department and have extensive experience with the Unforgiveables. We should have been there. Instead, we traipsed around looking for runespoor eggs and got transported to Siberia in the process. They found five of the children drowned! They were made to walk into the water to drown themselves, Malfoy!" Harry was screaming by this time.

In the memory, Malfoy was looking away. "I had my reasons. I didn't think-that seemed a...straightforward case at the time."

"I don't think I can forgive you for-once again-choosing the easy cases. Is that what you think being an Auror is? The easy way out?"

"Right," Malfoy snapped. "And being an Auror is clearly all about being reckless and running straight into danger!"

"Well, we won't be partners for long," Harry said through white lips. "Our incompetence as a team is the talk of the office. Nelson was taking the mick about putting us on suspension."

"Do you think I had something to do with his disappearance?" Harry asked Hermione in a low voice during elevenses. He had been loitering outside her office all morning until she took pity and waved him in.

She didn't bother pretending not to know what he was talking about. "Why would you have anything to do with it?"

Harry swallowed. "Well," he said slowly, not looking at her. "We hated each other for years. We had an argument. He disappeared, and his wand was found in my possession. And, obviously I can't remember the last week, when everything else happened." He looked tortured, and his hair was completely standing on end atop his head.

It was an ordeal all around, and the newspapers didn't help, running a feature entitled "Ex-Death Eater Turned Auror Presumed Dead-Boy-Who-Lived to Blame?" It raked up every single confrontation the two had in school and their more public arguments since working together, as well as the more publicized cases in which they had been partnered together.

That night, Hermione found Pinchpunch completely aloof to all her attentions and prompting. Not even a chocolate crumpet could tempt him. She found him curled up in the corner of her closet with his back to the door.

When she lifted him out and onto her lap for a grooming session-Crookshanks long since resigned to his presence (after all, there wasn't much to envy when your rival refused to eat your food or use your toiletries), she saw that the white kneazle was in a terrible state. He was significantly skinnier, for one, and his fur was no longer smooth and glossy.

Not for the first time did she consider that there was a connection between the kneazle and Harry. Was the best thing to do to return the kneazle to Harry? But Harry was in complete denial about how the kneazle had come in the first place, not remembering any of it, and Ginny was stressed enough without having to care for an unwanted pet.

"It's all right, Pinch," she said, brushing him and wincing at the knots in his fur. He really was looking quite ill, as compared to how he had come to her, glossy and proud, an animal at the top of its game. "We'll get Harry figured out and you can go back to him."

Not even Harry's name could get the kneazle to lift up his head. "These allegations are ridiculous though. That people should think Harry killed Malfoy. Of course, they did have a really contentious history together. And yes, granted, he was a complete prat when he was young. But all that was ages ago. He's not so bad now-or when I knew him before." Hermione laughed and scratched the kneazle on the head. "Did you know, we were actually friends for a time? Strange, isn't it?"

The kneazle hadn't stirred once since she lifted him onto her lap. Now, he turned his head around to face her.

"It wasn't anything," she backtracked. "Just…it was nice, you know? Talking to him. I had never done that in school. He was intelligent. Funny. He listened. Well, not towards the end. And of course, he ignored me completely after I dropped out of training." Hermione sighed. "It's nothing, Pinch. I don't know why I thought you were him. That would be completely crazy, wouldn't it? Harry would have said something."

The kneazle let out a sigh and turned the back of his head to her again.

"You could have knocked me over with a quill when Malfoy started to go out with Harry and Ron for bants," Hermione said, petting the kneazle from head to tail. "I actually fancied him for a bit, you know. And recently in our interdepartmental meeting, he actually backed up my motion with some statistics from their... well, it doesn't matter. And, of course the boys were completely oblivious to the whole thing."

The kneazle lifted up his white head at her words and stood up on her lap. He turned to look Hermione full in the face. It was then she realized his eyes weren't the same as before. They were no longer grey, but rather a pale shade of blue, like most other cats. Of course, it could have been the light, but she had been certain his eyes had been that strange shade of grey, that particular color so rare in felines.

That night, Hermione let the kneazle sleep on her bed with her.