T/N: The author deleted this chapter, so it's a filler chapter.
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Nolan walked down the dimly lit Hogwarts corridor, still amused by the way Penelope had pouted at his teasing. The way she had reacted, almost playful, almost flustered, was rare for someone like her, and he found it oddly entertaining. He had no intention of pushing things further, of course, but a little bit of harmless fun never hurt anyone. Besides, Penelope was too sharp to fall for his antics so easily.
With a flick of his wand, he tucked away the parchment filled with notes on Hermione's peculiar transformation. He had a few theories, but none of them quite explained why the reversal process was proving so difficult. It was almost as if the Polyjuice accident had imprinted itself onto her magical core, making any attempt at reversal react unpredictably. The last potion he had used had shown some progress, but not nearly enough. The real challenge, however, would be convincing Hermione to continue trusting his methods.
Lost in thought, he nearly collided with Draco Malfoy, who was exiting the library with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini in tow. Malfoy barely had time to sneer before Nolan raised an eyebrow.
"In a rush, Malfoy? I hope you're not late for an important appointment. Perhaps a hair consultation?"
Pansy snickered, but Malfoy scowled. "Very funny, Von Draugr. I don't have time to waste on whatever nonsense you're brewing up. And don't think I haven't noticed you hanging around Granger. What's your angle?"
"My angle?" Nolan smirked. "Well, if you must know, I have a deep, undying passion for experimental transfiguration accidents. There's nothing quite as thrilling as watching someone sprout whiskers and a tail."
Draco looked unimpressed. "Just keep out of things that don't concern you."
Nolan gave a mock bow. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of interfering in your illustrious Slytherin affairs, Malfoy. Do let me know if you ever need help removing your foot from your mouth, though. I hear that's quite the common affliction."
Blaise chuckled, and even Pansy fought to keep a straight face as Malfoy huffed and stalked off, his dignity barely intact. Nolan shook his head in amusement before heading towards the Astronomy Tower. If he was going to crack the mystery of Hermione's transformation, he needed a fresh perspective.
…
Meanwhile, back in the hospital wing, Hermione sat up in bed, scowling at the tuft of fur still stubbornly covering her arms. Despite the potion's partial success, she was far from cured. Even worse, she could still feel the occasional feline impulse creeping in—like the overwhelming desire to chase Madam Pomfrey's quill as it floated across the room.
She shuddered. This was getting out of hand.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, gripping the edge of her blanket. "I'm missing too many classes. I need to get back to studying. I should be helping Harry and Ron, not... licking my own hand!" She pulled her arm away from her mouth in horror.
Madam Pomfrey, who had been adjusting potions on a nearby shelf, turned around with a sympathetic smile. "Patience, Miss Granger. These things take time."
Hermione sighed dramatically. "Time I don't have."
Just then, the doors to the infirmary creaked open, and Ron and Harry stepped inside, carrying a stack of books and some sweets from Honeydukes. Hermione's ears perked up (literally), and she forced herself to remain composed as Ron plopped down beside her bed.
"We brought reinforcements," he said cheerfully, dumping the books onto her lap. "McGonagall even gave us some extra notes from Transfiguration. Figured you might want them."
Hermione's eyes lit up as she sifted through the papers. "Oh, thank goodness! Finally, something useful. And—" She paused, nose twitching. "Are those chocolate frogs?"
Harry grinned, holding up a box. "Thought they might lift your spirits."
Hermione's initial instinct was to decline, but her newly enhanced feline senses had other ideas. She snatched the box and unwrapped a frog with alarming speed, biting into it before realizing what she'd done.
Ron and Harry exchanged glances. "Er... Hermione?"
She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. "What? I'm allowed to enjoy chocolate, aren't I?"
"Right," Ron said slowly, watching as she licked a stray bit of chocolate off her fingers with what looked suspiciously like a sandpaper tongue. "Totally normal."
Before Hermione could protest, Nolan strolled back in, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Good news, Granger. I may have a lead on your condition."
Hermione perked up. "Really? What is it?"
Nolan sat on the edge of a nearby cot, looking pleased with himself. "After some analysis, I suspect your magical core has adapted to the transformation in an unexpected way. The potion we used earlier didn't just alter the fur—it started changing the pigmentation back to your natural hair color. That suggests a deeper, more fundamental shift in the way your magic is processing the change."
Ron blinked. "What does that mean in normal words?"
Nolan sighed. "It means that Hermione isn't just stuck in her half-cat state because of a simple magical mishap. Her magic is actively reinforcing the transformation instead of fighting it off."
Harry frowned. "That sounds... bad."
"Not necessarily," Nolan said. "It just means we need a different approach. We can't force the transformation to reverse with brute magical force. We have to convince her magic that it wants to revert to its original state."
Hermione folded her arms. "And how do you suggest we do that?"
Nolan smirked. "By tricking it."
Ron paled. "I don't like the sound of that."
Hermione, however, looked intrigued. "Go on."
"We need to gradually introduce elements that reinforce your human identity while diminishing the feline aspects. The potion helped in a small way, but we need something more immersive. A combination of psychological conditioning and magic."
Ron groaned. "You mean, like... brainwashing?"
Nolan rolled his eyes. "No, Weasley. I mean structured exposure. The more Hermione engages in activities that reaffirm her humanity, the less influence the feline traits will have. Think of it as muscle memory."
Hermione tapped her chin. "That... actually makes sense. But what kind of activities?"
Nolan grinned. "Oh, I have a few ideas."
Something in his expression made Hermione uneasy. "Such as?"
He stood up. "Oh, just some light practice in human reflexes, posture, and cognitive exercises. Starting with... a round of wizard's chess."
Ron perked up. "Hey, now that's an idea I can get behind!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Nolan. "And if I win?"
"Then you're one step closer to proving you're not just a glorified house cat."
Hermione huffed. "Fine. Set it up."
As the boys gathered the board, Nolan leaned back, watching her with quiet amusement. The real trick wouldn't be the game—it would be how Hermione reacted to the challenge. If his theory was correct, this was just the beginning of breaking the transformation's hold on her.
And if not... well, at least he'd get to see if she was better at chess with whiskers.