Harry would have helped Hermione in the library a lot more, but Quidditch practices interfered. The weather was gradually improving, and the 'wet cat' jokes tended to fade rapidly into the background when the catboy glared in their direction, especially when the first few times had him shake his fur vigorously near the source. Draco had it occur no less than five times before finally getting the hint. Crabbe and Goyle proved smarter than they looked (not that that was difficult) by refusing to come within ten feet of Harry after the first time. Ron actually lost money on that one, and a tiny blonde Ravenclaw won it all.
The Saturday of the Quidditch match itself was clear and sunny. As Wood stated loudly, perfect weather for the game. Harry was just glad he wasn't going to get excessively wet. It made his fur itch, and the glamours in his collars would only make the sensation worse in very short order. Draco had complained loudly that Harry now had an 'unfair' advantage, trying to get him suspended from playing, but for some reason didn't elaborate on exactly what his 'advantage' was.
As the three friends were leaving the Great Hall to get Harry's things for the match, he heard it.
{Let me kill this time... let me rip... tear...} The hissing voice faded into the distance, accompanied by a strange, rhythmic scraping sound, as Harry yowled in surprise, and Ron and Hermione also jumped, but more in reaction to him than the mysterious voice.
"The voice," he said quickly as Ron turned a questioning look on his friend. "I just heard it again, didn't you?"
As Ron shook his head, Hermione gasped. "Harry- I think I just understood something! I need to check the library, I'll be right back!" With that, she turned to leave.
Harry didn't know why he dropped his broom until he was in the air, tackling his girlfriend to the ground. Her-my-honey, no! Bad kitty! He'd twisted as they landed, taking the impact of their fall, and looked down at the catgirl in his arms. "You're supposed to be the brightest witch of our generation, love," he murmured into her hair. "How bright is it to wander around in the castle, alone, when I've just heard the monster wandering loose? No, I'm coming with you."
Ron was torn. On the one hand, his friend was right, he couldn't just let Hermione walk blindly into danger. On the other... the Quidditch Cup. "Harry..." he began, "are you sure? You'll be practically giving the Hufflepuffs the match, and probably the Cup..."
Harry's response cut all argument off at the knees. His fur all fluffed out, making him seem twice the size, and his emerald eyes slitted down till they were almost pure green as he hissed, cat-like at his red-haired friend. "No, Ron, I do not consider some piece of gaud and glory more important than the well-being of my mate!"
Silence. Hermione was perfectly still in his arms, and Ron was somewhat gobsmacked at the intensity of Harry's reply. The basic content, he'd been ready for, but not for it being delivered so... vehemently. Then the catgirl whispered into the chest of her boyfriend. Somehow, Ron and Neville, who'd just rounded the corner, were able to hear her perfectly.
"Do you mean that, Harry? Is that, am I, what you really want? Or are you just making the best of being forced into this by my... um... pheromones and hormones? I don't want you to regret this years from now, Harry?" She held her breath, waiting for his reply with anticipation and fear.
He paused and thought hard. He hadn't meant to say that, it was a Hagrid-worthy slip of the tongue. A sense of foreboding and terror had jumped up from the depths of his mind and blind-sided every ounce of self-control he possessed. He'd been reacting on pure instinct and emotion, and that argued for the feelings and words being more true than any he'd yet spoken.
He brought his muzzle down to her hair and gently licked at the tip of her ear. As she started purring, he answered her aloud. "If love were distance, the universe isn't big enough; if love were time, eternity's not long enough. I don't know why I feel this way, maybe it is because we're largely cats now, but I will never regret being yours, if you'll have me."
Ron and Neville looked at each other, and decided to head down to the Quidditch pitch to let them know that the Gryffindor seeker might be a bit late.
The kitty couple weren't the only ones in the library, as they met Susan Bones and one of the Ravenclaw prefects, a girl called Penelope Clearwater, there. Harry and Hermione began searching books frantically, he having been informed of Hermione's suspicions on the way to the library.
"It's got to be some kind of snake," she'd told him, " so all we need to do is find out what kind it is, and that should tell us our next move. Once the monster is out of the way, we can concentrate on freeing Ginny from that diary of Riddle's."
It didn't take long to find the information in the pages of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. "It's a basilisk," Harry said in a flat tone that caught the attention of the other two students in the library. "A freaking basilisk."
"Then why isn't anyone dead?" Susan asked, terrified by the thought. "Those things are incredibly venomous, and looking in their eyes kills you."
The Ravenclaw prefect chimed in. "That's not even considering their innate size and strength. Basilisks are big, the older they are the bigger they get."
"This one was sealed in by Slytherin himself, so it's what, a thousand years old. How big would that be?" Hermione turned to Penelope, only to find empty air. Looking down, she saw why. Upon hearing the monster's age, the Ravenclaw had fainted. While Susan hadn't, the Hufflepuff redhead was decidedly paler than usual.
"That's got to be... around sixty feet long..." her voice trailed off.
Harry mewled in realisation. "No-one's dead because no-one's looked it in the eyes. There's always been something in the way, Colin's camera, or Nearly-Headless Nick for Justin, Nick couldn't die, he was dead already."
"Mrs Norris?"
Hermione spotted that one. "Harry, didn't you say there was water all over the floor?" At his nod she went on. "She must have seen the basilisk's reflection. So, how to stop it..."
Harry snorted. "Mirrors to look around corners, so even if you do see it, you're just petrified. That's a start."
Susan fumbled a mirror from her pocket. "This isn't much, but would it help?"
Hermione nodded. "It's more than I had. Now let's see... Spiders flee before it, and the crow of a rooster can kill it... that's why Hagrid's chickens were killed. With all of them dead, no-one realised that they were after the roosters... what else? Huh... that's interesting."
She had Susan and Harry's full attention now, and Penelope was coming around. "What's interesting?" they chorused.
"The damned thing is terrified by weasels. The weasel is the only creature in the world immune to a basilisk's gaze and venom."
Luckily, Penelope had another mirror, and so prepared they left the library, carefully making their way towards the only place they knew they'd find teachers, the Quidditch pitch. It was as they were traversing the corridor near Myrtle's bathroom that Harry and Hermione heard a soft 'eep' behind them, along with the scraping sound of scales on stone.
{Bahh... gone to stone, no tassste... can't bite... smell cats... tear cats?...} Harry swallowed as he and his girlfriend both closed their eyes tight. Thanks to Professor McGonagall's lessons, they knew how a cat's whiskers allowed them to navigate without seeing. Somewhere behind them, and not too far at that, was the basilisk. Then the bottoms dropped out of their stomachs, or at least it felt that way.
Ginny's voice hissed out. {Yesss... ssslay the female... I have plansss for the other.}
The two cat children broke into a flat sprint from a standing start, heading for the staircases. The basilisk shouldn't be able to easily navigate those, especially since neither Harry nor Hermione had any intention of descending them sedately. As their whiskers told them they'd reached the open area around the stairs, they threw themselves over the railings, aiming for where they remembered the first floor landing to be.
Just as well that they had, for the basilisk's head struck the second floor landing, breaking and shattering wood and stone. As the couple twisted and plummeted, they heard an extended hiss of pain, almost deafening.
{My eye... gone... hurtsss...} The feline students were distracted by their landing. Hitting their target feet-first, they collapsed and rolled and tumbled to a stop. Against a pair of feet in severe-looking boots, in fact, as they opened their eyes a little. Enough to see that they very nearly run right into Professor McGonagall, whose right foot was tapping against the floor with impatience. Outside they could hear cheering from the Hufflepuffs who had just won the match.
"I believe I would appreciate an explanation, Mr Potter."