A/n...This story takes place in a slight AU where Moody survived the Night of The Seven Potters.

Chapter 1

A bit of Madness in the spring

The air was very quiet, and humid in the last of the days light, bathing everything in a hazy golden sunlight, that, under more pleasant circumstances, would have drawn forth feelings of calm and easiness in Hermione. But she was not in more pleasant circumstances, so all it did was serve to mark the passing of time. The late April breeze picked up the smell of dirt and singed hair and tickled Hermiones nose with it, mixing with the smell of her own body odor and sweat, making her feel completely filthy and grounding into her how heavy the weight of this task was.

Oh, sodd off! she thought angrily, swatting at a determined mosquito that kept landing on her exposed shoulders. She extended her wand slowly and confidently recited "Amato Animo Animato Animagus!" while touching her wand to her heart.

Although the sky above her seemed calm, with only had a few dark clouds slinking along the horizon, she knew a thunder storm was forming somewhere in the east, and would be moving this way shortly. She guessed about five hours from now, maybe six if the storm felt like teasing her. Her bushy hair was being kept out of her face in a lose pony tail, but that didn't stop fly-aways from dancing around the pallid flesh of her face. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her jumper was fraying on both sleeves.

A brown shimmery string shot out of her wand, and circled her shoulders, disappearing as it touched her. I wish I knew if that was a good sign. I wish McGonagall was here. I wish Harry was alive. I wish I could see my parents. As soon as she thought the first wish, the rest came spilling out of her, and she didn't have enough time to steel her heart against them before tears welled in her eyes. I wish Tom Riddle had never been born. I wish I was at the burrow, eating some of Molly's shepherds pie. I wish I knew where Ron was being kept. I wish- Oh grow up Hermione! Be in the now! She snapped her eyes shut angrily and snapped her wand against her leg.

It wouldn't do well to dwell on the wishes she kept near and dear to her heart. It wasn't healthy to distract away from this behemoth of a task in front of her, and the sooner she finished, the closer she may be to having at least some of her wishes come true.

She sat down suddenly, leaning her back against one of the tall oak trees that were growing haphazardly all around her. She reached into her bag and pulled out a hunk of bread wrapped in wax paper. Even though it was a small hunk of bread, it weighed heavy in her small, dirty hand. She had apparated into the eastern American coast about three days ago, and was hiding somewhere in Virginia. She had gone into a couple of markets stealing a bit of food under the invisibility cloak now and then, but she had no money to drop and the guilt was getting to her. She swept her eyes out over the meadow in front of her, and it's perimeter of trees. She slumped her shoulders and sighed. She was in America, in dirty clothes, in desperate need of a shower, attempting a magic ritual that wizards and witches far more powerful and educated than her had failed at. It was madness. A little madness in the spring, she thought wryly, recalling an old Emily Dickinson poem she had read a life time ago, before she had gotten her Hogwarts letter.

If all goes well tonight, I will be back in London by this time next week and I can try to meet up with Ginny and Neville. It will be fine. I can do this. I WILL do this. She thought determinedly, as she nibbled at the stale bread in her hand. Once she finished, she folded the wax paper and put it back into her bag.

Digging her nails into the ground, and closing her eyes she tried to center herself. She needed self discipline now, and she needed to be one with her magic. Closing her eyes always seemed to enhance her unease, though. Being on the run, and being apart of a war for so long robs you of things. Being able to find self peace seemed to be one of them for Hermione. Anytime she closed her eyes she was met with images she didn't want to see.

She glanced up and was startled to see that the sky had been carpeted in dark clouds while she had sat on the ground. "Oh, thank Merlin," She said somberly, shuddering at the thought of carrying another mandrake leaf in her mouth for a month if there wasn't a storm to complete the ritual. I hope this works. I hope if it works, I turn into something more practical than an otter... Hermione let that thought trail off. She knew McGongals patronous was a cat, and Lupins was a wolf, so it would be fitting that hers would be an otter. If she was able to pull this off, that is. But she didn't see how an otter would be practical for sneaking into the forbidden forest, and would certainly look suspicious to have an otter running around Diagon Ally, with no close water sources. She had been trying now for 6 months to become an animagus, and to say it had been an uphill battle was an understatement. In order to become one, she needed to make a potion that, among some of her hair, an deathheads moth, and dew that had not seen sunlight for 7 days, included the leaf from a mandrake that had to be kept in her mouth for a month. She had swallowed the first one, accidentaly spit out the second, was unable to find anoter mandrake plant for two months after that one, and when her and Ron were finally able to locate another, Ron was captured by a death eater while Hermione ran off. Her heart panged a little as she remebered Ron's panic stricken face as he pushed Hermione forward and told her to run.

"Hermione, go, please-go you stubborn woman!" He had yelled as A hooded death eater pulled his wand out and started sending out hexes.

And go she had. She ran about ten feet forward, glanced back at Ron, who was pulling his wand out, and apparated to the first place that popped into her head. She didnt want to think about that now though, the memory was a noose around her heart that was tighter every time she brought it to mind. Despite her pact with Ron, that they would do what ever was necessary to keep hope alive, and keep the battle going- even if that meant abandoning the other- she felt an enormous amount of guilt at having left him. She missed him. She missed harry. She missed them all, and sometimes her greif was so deep she felt she would drown in it, felt she would become nothing but a girl so waterlogged with sadness that light would cease to exist and she would melt into the loss of the world around her. But than she would remember the first time she produced a corporeal patronous, or her first kiss shared with Ron. Memories of Ginny, and Luna, and Molly Weasley would float in and out of her physc and she would feel a little revived, and bit less water logged. She glanced up to see the how dark the world around had grown, as if reflecting her own inner mechanisms.

"Thank Merlin," Hermione said and she stood up, pulling her bag up with her. She noticed her hand was shaking as she reached in and found the bottle of potion she was looking for. It was a dark muddy color, that seemed to be in constant motion. when she uncorked the bottle her nose was met with such a familiar smell that she recoiled from the feeling of nostalgia and yearning that came with it. It smells like Hogwarts olwery! She thought in awe. Or am I just going crazy hoping for any connection to better times? Maybe it just smells like owl poop and musty feathers.

She reined her thoughts back in and wandered out into the open field. With the potion in one hand, and her wand in the other, she recited the incantation again. The wand tip pointed at her heart grew hot as she drank the potion, which tasted as musty as it smelled. The potion it self was hot, and burned on its way down. Slowly, Hermiones body became warm, starting from her throat and flowing at to her toes. She blinked a few times and felt the world growing hazy and distorted around her.

All of the forest sounds that had been in full swing around her seemed to die. No bird noises, no cicadas rhythm, she saw lightning strike but there was no thunder clap to accompany it- not even the leaves blowing in the blossoming storm seemed to be generating any sound. Hermiones vision grew dark and strained as she felt her knees starting to bend and her body start to crumple down towards the earth.

I've botched it somehow. please don't let me die! She thought wildly into the universe while her consciousness started to seap away. As her eyes closed the sounds of the forest slowly started to resurface, and above her the thunder storm raged on. Fat, cold rain drops fell on her small figure and lightning cracked through the sky. Thunder roared across the landscape, as big as life itself, and one small, and she lay in the center of a long forgotten meadow. The wind blew her hair lose from band holding it in place and a few tawny feathers seemed to be poking out of the wild tresses.

Chapter 2

Hermione was trapped in her dreams again. The one place she couldn't steel her self against. She was reliving Voldemort killing Harry for the hundreth time in the catacombs of her self conscious. She saw the green streak of the killing curse rebound off Harry's Expeliarmus, and watched, Blindsided, as Walden Macnair, who had regained consciousness and had slipped by through the crowd unnoticed as Harry and Voldemort dueled. As Voldemort's curse rebounded off of Harry's, Macnair had struck as fast as lightening. He had pulled his wand as sent his own killing curse so quickly, no one had time to even register what was happening. Harry had crumpled to the ground and Voldemort had yelled with such fury and rage, the great hall rocked on its foundation. Hermione watched the soupy, dream version of events melted away as her eyes lids began to flutter.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, and was startled to see how bright the light around her was. The sounds of birds chirping filled her ears, and she lifted her a head a little to see the meadow she had passed out in. She sat up slowly and assessed her self. Great, my last jumper and it's covered in mud. She thought dismally and absentmindedly brushed at the dirt on her. She didn't feel different. Worry started to well up in her mind, and she recounted the process from last night. Where will I ever secure another mandrake leaf?! She thought dejectedly and she began to stand up.

How did Peter Pettigrew become an animagus and I can't? The thought barely escaped her mind before she felt her breathe being cut short and her body turning very warm, very quickly. Suddenly, Hermione felt very light. Exceedingly light, so light that she felt she could raise her arms and float away. She turned to look at her arms-and her arms weren't there! In their place was two feathered wings, light and tawny in the bright morning sun. She started to walk forward and felt her self hop instead. She hopped a little quicker and spread her arms and quite suddenly was air bound. She couldn't believe it. she flapped her wings and gained a little bit of height, suddenly landing on a branch of the oak tree she had sat under mere hours earlier. Hermione was filled with a feeling of accomplishment and pride such as she had never felt before. She was an animagus! And some sort of bird at that. She felt positively giddy at the revelation. She quieted her mind and listened. She was able to hear more clearly than she ever imagined she would be able. She picked up the squeaking of some nearby field mice, and beyond that the squeak of some birds. She was able to hear human voices, very far away, which startled her slightly. She hadn't though there had been any people for miles, muggles or otherwise. She picked her wings up and took of towards the human voices, she was guessing maybe two miles away from her. She couldn't help but be distracted by the world flying by around her. What beauty had been unleashed to her, now that she was privy to the birds eye view. So this must be the appeal of broomsticks. Now that she had no fear of falling, she could see the call of flying. The freedom it invoked, the power to be able to move like this. The oak trees and cypress trees seemed to move past her like cars on the highway, and the smell of the sky seemed to invigorate her more than any cup of coffee or pepper up potion ever could.

She came to a stop where the human voices were loudest, and perched about ten feet off the ground on a young oak tree. She looked around and managed to spot two men, and older one and a younger one, walking through the forest floor with rifles. Probably hunting she thought dismissively. Good thing I had not turned into a dear, she thought and flew back to where she had left her bag.

As she was flying she spotted a river, and flew down to it to catch a glimpse of what she was now. The water was beautiful, and she was tempted to turn back into her human self and take a dip. But it wouldn't do to be seen by those two hunters, as she had no idea who to trust in this new world. She hopped close to the edge of the water and looked down to see a beautiful tawny barn owl, whose head feathers seemed suspiciously ruffled, almost reminiscent of the bushy hair she usually sported in her human form. In my human form! She thought giddily. I cannot believe I have pulled this off! Thank you Merlin! She practically screamed inside her own head. An owl! Not only had she managed this most tricky bit of magic, but she had also become the most practical animal she could think of, for her plans on navigating the war ahead of her. Hermione felt as if she had swallowed a whole bottle of Felix Felicis. Whatever spirit is smiling on me from beyond the veil, Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! For surely I must have had some ethereal help with this! She called out into her own mind.

Hermione flew down to the meadow she had passed out in the night before, and transformed back into her self. She grabbed her bag off the ground and slung it over her shoulder. Please let it transform with me! She sent a silent prayer out into the universe and transformed. It did transform with her! Oh thank merlin! She called out. The bag didn't have much in it, but it did have Harrys invisibility cloak.

Where to now? Hermione asked her self. She hadn't told any one where she was going, or what she was up to. Even Ron didn't know why she needed the mandrake leaf, he just blindly trusted Hermione when she told him she needed it for reasons she couldn't tell him. If any of them knew, and were caught, and a death eater was able to pull out that information, her chance of getting the Resurrection Stone out of the Forbidden Forest would disappear, and there truly would be no hope left for the wizarding world. Maybe even the rest of the world, too. Hermione shuddered to think of her parents, still hidden away in Australia, where she hoped they were still safe.

She could go to Grimmauld Place, where she knew at least some of the order would be passing in and out, she didn't necessarily need to tell them about her new ability. My new ability...Hermione though to herself with wonder. Oh How I wish I could show someone! It saddened Hermione greatly to think she had to keep it to herself for now.

But Think of the information I could gather! I could even carry mail to the ministry, and intercept letters between ministry members and death eaters. And Hogwarts staff, too! That giddy feeling bubbled up in Hermiones stomach again, and for a few small minutes the pain of being on the consistently losing side of the war ebbed away. The waterlogged girl felt light, and free and valid for a short time as the morning sun shined down on her, making her brown hair shine, and her pale cheeks get a little rosy. She almost looked like her old self, sitting amid the lush Oak trees, marveling in the glow of a solidly earned accomplishment. She reveled in this feeling more so than when her first corpereal Patronous sprung forth from her wand, the embodiment of light and happiness.

If I can do this, I can do anything. Maybe, she added hastily, never one to rest on her laurels. Grimmauld Place for now, then.