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Professor Binns really did take History of Magic seriously. He’d always focused on magical historical events, very little of which had any overlap with the Muggle world. He also did not explore the whys and hows of it all.
Hermione Granger had been raised by muggles. She considered this a feather in her cap, an edge on her peers who too often had little interest in learning the philosophy, science, and ethics she had discovered a love for. She particularly enjoyed finding overlap between Muggle and magical sciences, instances where each gave explanation and foundation for the other.
The unfortunate bit about not having academically-inclined friends was having to do all her research on her own.
Buried deep in a section between Everlasting Bonds and Familiar Acquisition, Hermione’s hair was nearly sparking with frustration before she found it. Crooks had passed two months ago, and her heart had felt shattered. Not just shattered but scattered around, and try though she might she knew it would never be the same. Some pieces had turned to dust, and could not be replaced. But this morning…well. She had thought she was moving on. Making room for the grief and the loss, as everyone said. But the unmistakable feeling of paws on her shoulder while she lingered in the grey space between sleeping and waking…that lingered.
She paused and thanked Professor Binns mentally for conditioning her to research across all sources for common threads. The book in her hands made some painfully hopeful claims. In some cases—some, not all, mind—if a witch or wizard’s bond with their familiar was particularly strong, with just the right balance of age and magic and a dash of fate on both sides; such a familiar had been known on occasion to return to their companion in a sort of ghost form for the remainder of the companion’s life. In all the history books she'd perused, theory and first hand accounts included, she’d found less than twenty such instances with enough detail to verify.
And now, she was certain she’d found the right ritual to enable Crooks to cross back over to her, if the right circumstances were in place; it had been half hidden in Muggle texts, and half in some guide about having a magical familiar.
She gathered her new books and dashed into three supply stores for all of her ingredients. She prepared the circle diligently, laying out the bits of herbs and ointments that would give protection and safe passage. She made sure to leave out anything that would summon him; she only wanted him to return if he wanted to.
Two hours later, her neck damp with perspiration and her her hair frizzed out around her like a halo, a soft and achingly familiar ‘brrrOow?’ pulled her from her meditation. Soft paw steps brought him to her, and tears slid down her cheeks as she gathered him into her arms.
“Hi, Crooks.”