A/N: I own nothing, of course, except my idea of the use of a certain potion to cure a certain disease (that should nearly clear up anything that's unclear), and even that potion and that disease are someone else's! So really, I just created the scenario.

Be warned- this isn't beta'd.

She tried- she really did.

He would never believe her, of course, insisting that she were every bit as horrible as the taste and sensation of Skele-grow, but the fact of the matter was that she HAD tried!

Her body just wasn't strong enough to hold it in anymore, and it tore out of her so forcefully that she nearly toppled off of her stool.

Peals of laughter reverberated around the walls of the potions classroom, which was, fortunately, nearly unoccupied. The table shook as her hands grasped it for support, the potion sloshing dangerously in its cauldron as her tremors traveled through the wood. Gasps of air interrupted her myrth, and tears began filling her eyes, sliding down her very red cheeks.

The exact opposite response of the man across from her.

Wandlessly, the doors of the classroom slammed shut and the candle flames flickered out of existence. In the following darkness a rustling of robes indicated the man's infuriating departure from the lab table, and the slamming of a far-away door sounded his leave.

Several moments later, her laughter nearly spent, Hermione Granger wiped streams of tears from her very sore cheeks and rose to dispatch the hilariously ruined potion. She re-lit the candles with a flick of her wand, cleaned her workspace, and grabbed her bag. Still giggling, she opened the door and raced up the staircase for dinner.

As she entered the Great Hall she noticed, to her surprise (and immense relief- how was she to explain?), that Gryffindor still had house points. She had half expected their hour glass to be completely drained. She took her seat next to Harry and decided to enjoy her fortunate luck and treat herself to an extra large bowl of pudding for dessert.

She had nearly uncovered the bottom of her pudding bowl when a dark owl dropped a small note into it.

Frowning, she pulled it out and wiped off the corner before noticing the green scrawled writing. She smirked as she read the (very) short message.

See me.

How like him to assume she'd know exactly who it was and to not sign it.

"That looks like Snape's handwriting, but what does he want with you?" Harry asked, looking over her shoulder. "What happened after class?"

"Oh Harry," she breathed, grinning from ear to ear, "Not even a pensieve would do it justice!" And with that she hauled up her bag and headed back to where she came from.

.*.

A knock. He halted his pacing and stormed over to the door. He threw it open, grabbed the arm of the person on the other side, dragged them into the darkness of his office, and slammed the door shut once more.

Shoving the person- woman, no, girl- against the wall, he growled, "It seems fitting, doesn't it, that the one time you manage to royally screw up in your academic career, I am the victim?"

He could see just enough of her bushy hair to know who she was but it was too dark to see her expression. His hopes of a fearful confrontation were dashed, however, by the words she spoke in response.

"Come now, Professor," she teased, her voice dripping with amusement, "don't you at least enjoy the tail?"

.*.

The potion swirled counterclockwise. The fumes smelled unpleasantly of wet dog, but that was to be expected. The three hairs she had dropped in dissolved, leaving golden tendrils in their wake. How lucky she was to have a werewolf friend to collect folical samples from. Slowly, the potion turned a mustard yellow.

"It's never pleasant to look at," she sighed.

Professor Snape moved from his desk to her table, looked into the cauldron, and frowned. "It doesn't seem that way, does it?" he muttered. He took out his wand and glanced up at her. "Are you ready for the incantation? You are aware, I hope, that seeing as this is an experimental potion, we don't truly know that the results will be pleasant?"

Anticipation filling her stomach, she pulled out her wand as well. "Professor, you forget who I am. I learned my second year how tricky potions can be." She smirked. "Actually, that incident is my inspiration for this piece of work."

She glanced up in time to see his eyes narrow. "Yes, remind me to ask Albus if your statute of limitations has run out, yet." She snorted, and he continued, "Now, three twirls like so-"

At the third twirl, a rather large bubble formed in the middle of the potion. Hermione gasped and leaned forward to calm the fire beneath the potion when Professor Snape reached over and shoved her back- and the bubble burst, causing a fountain of spray to cover his face.

Horrified, she shrieked, and made to stand, but he snarled at her to "STAY WHERE YOU ARE" and covered his face with his hands.

She sat completely still, staring at her professor's immobile form, and started when a low moan crossed his lips. And then, she saw it.

Fur.

Golden fur.

His hands were covered in golden fur... and as he retracted his hands from his face in order to stare at them she saw sprouts of it popping up over his cheeks, down the bridge of his nose, across his forehead-

And as he hissed and his eyes grew wide, she knew- just knew- why his hands had flown to his backside.

Her breath hitched.

.*.

It took all of his strength not to throw her across the room. "I have been generous thus far with punishment, Miss Granger," he growled, "and it would not be wise to push your luck."

"Of course, sir," she agreed. He shoved away from the wall and began to turn around before he remembered- the cursed tail. No matter how dark the room was, he would not willingly present that bit of work to her.

She was speaking again, and he held down his fury... for now. "I'm sure you remember my days as a cat?" She stepped closer. "You know it won't take long for this to be reversed. You're mad at me because-"

"I know perfectly well that it can be reversed, you insolent chit!" he hissed. "Your- your utter negligence in safety and your abhorrent reaction-"

"Professor, I-"

"SILENCE!"

He resumed pacing. The nerve of her! Had he an excuse, any excuse but the truth, he would make sure she wore her skin off cleaning cauldrons and chopping ingredients- no, those detentions weren't good enough. He should ask Filch if he could borrow those chains in his office...

He pushed her back against the wall. "You will bring me every single note on this potion, and once I have decided upon a satisfactory adaptation to the original cure, you will brew it for me. I wouldn't trust you near another cauldron again if not for the fact that I dare not brew it myself in this condition. But I warn you, Miss Gra-"

He was cut off by her sudden disappearance. She had managed to pull away from him and was reaching in her bag. Pulling out a stack of papers, she thrust them into his hands and explained, "I would have just brewed it, but it has to be brewed with samples from your current condition."

He frowned and glanced down at the papers, illuminating just enough light from his wand so that he could read them. Of course she modified the cure already. Glaring daggers at the papers he held between furry fingers, he hissed, "Brew it."

.*.

One week later, Professor Snape returned to his classes. The official reason for his leave of absence was a particularly nasty reaction to a poorly brewed pepper-up potion, but rumor after rumor flew in one ear, transformed, and dashed out the other ear of every student of Hogwarts. The entire school was now convinced that their terrifying professor had either finally become a vampire (due to the fact that his newly hairless skin was incredibly pale, his canines had not completely shrunk yet, and he avoided his silver instruments) or involved in a terrible love affair with Professor Trelawny (who had also been absent due to a particularly nasty reaction to a poorly brewed pepper-up potion, which in this case was the truth).

Only Hermione knew the true reason of his absence, and she hadn't said a word. A week of pestering from Harry and Ron would have been absolute torture, so she had made a big effort to act enraged when she saw them next, explaining to them that Professor Snape had given her detention for destroying his classroom- when it was him that had added the acidic beetles to the brew and melted her cauldron! Never in her life would she have believed he could make such a mistake, but luckily, her friends jumped on a reason to hate their professor. They had repeatedly asked Hermione if she had had something to do with his disappearance, and she only replied that he should be lucky to be alive if she had been involved, as that cauldron had been very expensive!

She had not recieved any form of gratitude for brewing the potion, nor did she expect to- which was why she was shocked when she recieved her latest graded essay from him and found, to her joy, that no scathing remarks riddled what little space she had left on the parchment. He had finally given her full marks, and she saw it for what it was-

An apology.