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The Dark Transfiguration
Scorpio
scorpiofic@yahoo.com


GENRE: AU; cause as weird as the Battle at the DOM was, it wasn’t weird enough. I think that flinging magic at people & having magic flung back at you should have more consequences than a brief stay with Pomfrey & a depressed Boy-Who-Lived.

RATING: PG-13 (maybe R in spots)

A/N: I’m sorry if some of this seems confusing at first. Battles are always confusing due to lots of action happening all at once. This is true even for the people in the middle of the action, so a lot of it won’t be explained until afterwards when all the facts are accounted for.

CONTINUITY: Starts in the ‘Brain Room’ at the DOM – some quotes & actions taken directly from book five.

DISCLAIMER: Everything ‘Harry Potter’ is owned by JK Rowling. Especially Ginny.

SUMMARY: The Battle at the Department of Mysteries; on crack.


The Dark Transfiguration



1 – The Brain Room


“Collo – aaaaaaaaaargh…”


Luna went flying through the air towards Ginny just as five Death Eaters surged into the room. Luna hit a desk, slid across the top of it and then over onto the floor. Ginny began to crawl towards her, dragging her broken ankle behind her.


“Get Potter!” shrieked Bellatrix.


The madwoman ran at Harry, even as he dodged around her and tried to dash across the room to the open door, prophecy globe held high over his head in one hand. Neville stepped between Harry and Bellatrix, pointed Hermione’s wand in the evil witch’s face and yelled, “STUBEFY!” The wand, of course, did nothing. Bellatrix didn’t know that it wouldn’t work however, and closed her eyes. When no spell hit her, she opened them just in time to run smack into Neville, the both of them tumbling to the ground in a tangled knot of limbs.


Meanwhile, Ginny was desperately trying to wake Luna up with “ENNERVATE!”


“Hey!” a wildly giggling Ron made his way to his feet where he swayed partway across the room. “Hey, Harry, there are brains in here, ha ha ha, isn’t that weird, Harry?”


Harry nearly stumbled and fell from shock and fear for his idiot friend. From the corner of his eye he could see Neville and Bellatrix wrestling over her wand even as Neville grabbed a handful of the snarled mess she called hair and yanked real hard. Behind them, Luna was coming awake with a moan and Ginny turned her head to deal with a Death Eater making his way towards them. Using a move that Harry had demonstrated to the DA a few times, Ginny pointed her wand and yelled, “ACCIO CHAIR!” and silently directed the suddenly zooming wooden desk chair to smash into the back of the Death Eater’s head.


“Ron, get out of the way, get down…”


But Ron wasn’t listening to Harry; instead it seemed that it was Ginny’s words, or more accurately, her spell which caught his attention. Grinning goofily and pointing his wand to the large tanks on the side, he waved away Harry’s concern.


“Honest, Harry, they’re brains – look – ACCIO BRAIN!”


Everyone, DA members and Death Eaters alike, froze in absolute shock that Ron would do something so completely stupid. They all gaped as the top of the tank flew off and a brain burst from the green liquid. Spinning around in a wash of glowing illusions and dripping tentacles, the brain flew towards Ron.


“Ha ha ha, Harry, look at it. Harry, come and touch it, bet it’s weird…”


“Ron, no!”


The brain began to wrap its tentacles around Ron’s wrists and then worked its way up his arms to his chest. Ginny gaped in horror even as a few Death Eaters began to chuckle and snort. Ron’s smile melted away into a frown of confusion and growing fear. He began to struggle against the clinging brain and flashed a pleading look up at Harry.


“Harry, look what’s happen – no – no, I don’t like it – no, stop – stop…”


“DIFFINDO!” Harry tried to sever the tentacles from Ron, but his magic merely seemed to flash on the surface of the brain before being absorbed into it. The force of the spell pushed Ron over onto his back and Ginny abandoned a woozy Luna to drag herself towards her brother. The brain began to pull itself up onto Ron’s face even as he flailed against it.


“Harry, it’ll suffocate him!”


A Death Eater shot a jet of red light at Ginny, but she ducked her head and rolled out of the way, smacking her broken ankle against the floor. Crying out with a howl of pain, she curled up and clutched at her leg.


Luna pushed herself into a sitting position; her own face etched with pain and shot a spell back at the Death Eater over Ginny’s head. “ENGORGIO!” The Death Eater’s nose suddenly swelled up to the size of an overripe watermelon and he tipped over onto his face with a wet fleshy splat and a spray of blood.


“Aaahhh!” Neville let out a yell of pain as well, although his was not from a spell. Instead, the young man was hitting Bellatrix on the top of her head with one hand in order to convince her to let go of his other hand; which was currently in her mouth and clenched between her teeth. “She’s a bloody biter!”


Harry, of course, reacted to all of this in the only way he could. He panicked. Unlike most people, however, his panic had nothing to do with himself. He was panicking on his friend’s behalf. He had the vague idea that if he escaped with the prophecy, the Death Eaters would chase him and his friends would be safe. Believing that Ginny and Luna could care for Ron and Hermione and hoping that he could lure Bellatrix from Neville and the others would follow, Harry turned smoothly and kicked Bellatrix in the back of her head.


She spit out Neville’s hand and turned slightly and watched Harry dash away yelling, “Bitch!” Her head turned back to Neville just in time to see his large and bloody fist come sailing directly for her face. Her nose exploded in a spray of blood and a blast of pain.


Harry made it two steps towards the door when a spell caught him in the back. He stumbled and fell into an uncontrolled roll of flailing limbs. Pain sizzled along his nerve endings and he instinctively curled up around the prophecy globe and his wand. He felt as if he was melting and being turned inside out at the same time. And the itch! Every inch of his skin itched so bad that if he could scratch, he’d scratch himself bloody.


Something horrible and painful was happening to him, but he wasn’t sure what. He tried to ignore the pain in his body and the fear caused by the fact that he was sprouting tawny golden fur all over his twisting body. Instead he began to try dragging himself towards the door he was so close to.


“INCENDIO!” Ginny’s voiced echoed round the room, followed quickly by the spell on Harry stopping midway and Malfoy’s voice muttering foul words as he extinguished his burning robes.


As the pain in his body began to recede down to manageable levels, Harry was able to think a little bit better. It became clear that Malfoy had been trying to turn him into some sort of animal, but Ginny had stopped the curse from completing by setting the arrogant bastard on fire. He also noticed for the first time that the sounds of battle were coming from in front of him as well as behind.


Suddenly, hands reached down and pulled him up against a strong chest covered in worn and patched clothes. Remus Lupin’s voice echoed in Harry’s ears like a soothing balm, “Oh, Harry. What happened to you?”


He didn’t have time to answer that, however, as Malfoy’s voice rang out from behind them, “CRUCIO!”


When no pain came, they both turned to look and saw Ginny Weasley writing on the ground, her spine arching back and her voice a breathy gasping whine of agony. Neither had time to do anything to help her though as Luna pushed away from the wall and pointed her wand at the blonde Death Eater.


“DIFFINDO! DIFFINDO!”


She cast two cutting curses in a row. The first hit Malfoy high up on his wand arm, leaving the bloody limb hanging from a thin strip of muscle and spinning his body around from the force of the spell. The second cutting curse was off its mark because Malfoy had moved and instead of hitting his arm or hand, it connected directly with the back of his skull. Blonde hair, bone fragments, blood and gray bits of brain flew out in a spray around his head like a twisted and evil halo. Then, Lucius Malfoy crumbled to the ground and died.


Everyone in the room paused to watch in horror as a puddle of red blood grew around Malfoy’s head, and then as one they all turned to stare in shock at Luna. Her face was white as a sheet and her wand hand trembled. For once her normally dreamy eyes were focused completely and intently as she stared at the corpse of the man she had just killed.


“Merlin, no…” her voice was a tight whisper. “I didn’t…, I was aiming for his wand, not…” She swallowed loudly and began to sway on her feet. “I killed him.”


Pivoting on one foot, Luna spun away from everyone, bent over at the waist and threw up all over the floor.


Movement from the corner of the room where Ginny’s chair-bashed Death Eater was beginning to stir grabbed Lupin’s attention and he shifted Harry’s weight over to one super strong arm and pointed his wand with the other.


“STUPIFY!” He shifted his aim to the Death Eater behind Hermione’s crumbled body, “STUPIFY!” Finally he aimed his wand at Neville & Bellatrix, “STUPIFY!”


“Miss Lovegood!” Luna turned her head weakly and wiped her chin with her jumper sleeve.


“Professor?”


Lupin didn’t bother to correct her that he wasn’t a professor anymore; instead he nodded his head toward Bellatrix and Neville. “Pull Mrs. Lestrange away from Mr. Longbottom.”


Nodding her head and taking a deep breath to steady herself, Luna tucked her wand behind her ear and moved over to the two stunned people tangled on the floor. She nudged Bellatrix away with her foot and then grabbed Neville by his arm and pulled him off of her.


“Luna, help!”


Luna turned to look over at Ginny and saw the girl desperately trying to pry the brain off of her brother. With one last glance down at Bellatrix, she nodded and dragged Neville over to Ginny and Ron. Laying him down as comfortably as she could, Luna began to help Ginny by trying to unravel the tangle of tentacles wrapped tightly around Ron’s body.


Harry, seeing this, was torn between wanting to help his friends and wanting to know what was happening in the other room where he could still hear fighting going on. The choice was taken from him when Lupin spun him around so that he was facing his godfather’s best friend. The older man was studying him with an expression somewhere between fear and anger.


“Harry! What are you and your friends doing here at the Ministry?” Lupin shook his head briefly. “And what in the name of Merlin happened to you?”


Harry glanced down at himself and saw that he was still covered in golden fur and that his body was contorted into an oddly comfortable stance despite his twisted legs and strangely formed hips.


“Malfoy hit me with some sort of transfiguration, but stopped when Ginny set his robes on fire. I’m not sure what, though.”


Then he grimaced as best he could with his altered mouth and jaw. He held up the glowing glass orb containing the prophesy and handed it to Lupin.


“That’s what we came for. I had a vision that Voldemort was torturing Sirius in order to get this. Malfoy and his lot of Death Eaters basically demanded I hand it over. When I didn’t they started to curse us.”


Lupin stared at the Orb of Prophecy in his hand and growled out, “Bloody Hell!”


Harry was shocked that the normally calm and laid back man would curse so bluntly, but he didn’t have time to ponder that. Back in the room containing his friends, Luna and Ginny had finally managed to pry the brain off of Ron. Unfortunately, it let go of the redhead very suddenly and caused Ginny to topple backwards and lose hold of the brain when her broken ankle was jolted. The brain flew through the air and hit one of the Death Eaters. This woke him up from being stunned.


This started the whole mess up again as the Death Eater instantly began to revive his comrades. The Death Eaters began groaning and groping for their wands. His panic and adrenaline still riding high, Harry didn’t even pause to consider what would be best. He just went with instinct to get his friends out of there.


Aiming his wand at Neville, he hit the boy with an “ENNERVATE!” and then yelled out, “Luna, float Ron out of there and have Neville carry Ginny. Ginny, defend everyone as best you can.”


Then he turned his aim slightly and shouted, “EXPELLIARMUS!” at a Death Eater whose nose looked as if it had exploded at one point and now hung loose over his lips. The Death Eater’s wand was torn from his hand even as he flew backwards and into a wall.


That seemed to be the cue everyone needed to get moving. Luna pulled her wand, grimaced slightly and then cast a spell on Ron that caused him to float into the air. She grabbed hold of his robes and began to tow him towards the doorway leading to Harry and Professor Lupin. Neville simply scooped Ginny up and flung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and began to run to the same doorway.


One of the Death Eaters shouted, “IMPEDIMENTA!”, but Ginny countered it with a hastily cast, “PROTEGO!” The spell bounced off of the shield spell and splashed against the wall leaving a scorch mark.


That was apparently enough time for Bellatrix to get a hold of a wand, however. She stood in the middle of the room, her hair a snarled mess, her robes torn in the fight with Neville and blood streaking along her cheek. Her anger and madness caused her magic to roll in the air around her as she lifted her wand and pointed it at Harry and Lupin. “CRUCIO!”


Lupin’s werewolf strength and fast reflexes saved them both as he dropped to the ground and dragged Harry with him. The curse sizzled the air as it rushed past them and hit the door behind them. The door was demolished, leaving nothing but smoking splinters of singed wood floating through the air. The sounds of magical battle increased dramatically.


Just then Luna dashed past them dragging along an unconscious and floating Ron followed by Neville with Ginny hitched up over his shoulder. “Cub om, Hawwy! Huwwy ub!”


Harry didn’t think; he simply scrambled to his feet as best he could, reached out with one paw-like hand and grabbed Lupin even as he started to run after his friends as they fled from an enraged Bellatrix Lestrange.


The room they all entered wasn’t a refuge however. Instead it was dark and forbidding with a tall stone arch in the middle of the floor. All around the strange stone fixture, members of the Order of the Phoenix battled against various Death Eaters. Harry recognized most of the people from both groups, including a healthy and alive Sirius Black who was dashing about and tossing off curses right and left. Voldemort hadn’t been torturing him afterall.


Suddenly, a voice shouted “TARANTALLEGRA!” and Neville dropped Ginny even as his legs went immediately into a kind of frenzied tap dance. Harry turned his head to look and saw Dolohov laughing at the results of his curse.


Harry growled and returned fire at Dolohov in the form of “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” Dolohov’s arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backward with a loud crash. He could hear Sirius’s voice laughing in the background and calling out “Good one Harry!”


He didn’t have time to call, however, since he saw Ginny roll over onto her stomach only to go pale with wide eyes even as she lifted her wand and pointed at someone behind their group. “DIFFINDO!”


The curse raced past Harry and Lupin even as they both dodged to the side.


“That wasn’t very nice.” The words called out in Bellatrix’s oddly lilting voice came from the doorway they had just fled through. Soon enough, the twisted witch herself followed. “I’m gonna punish you for that. Enjoy watching your helpless brother scream.”


With that, Bellatrix lifted her wand and aimed it at Ron. “CRUCIO!”


As fast as she was, she wasn’t quite fast enough. With only a tiny warning, Luna had been able to cancel her floating spell on Ron. He dropped like a rock and crashed into the floor, but the pain curse sizzled the air over top of them as it rushed past.


“Sirius! NO!”


At first, Harry didn’t know why Lupin was yelling in his ear about his godfather, but one quick glance was all it took. Bellatrix’s spell had missed Ron only to travel across the room and hit Sirius. Almost in slow motion, he watched as Sirius fell over and started to tip into the veiled archway in the middle of the room.


Harry tried to run to Sirius, but Lupin had too tight a hold of him. Instead, he followed his instinct and raised his own wand, “ACCIO SIRIUS!” His aim was true and he felt his spell connect to his godfather, but he could also feel some strange magical force inside the veil tug on the man as well. Gritting his currently transfigured fangs together, Harry threw all of his magical power into fueling the summoning spell. Sweat broke out all over his body at the exertion and he began to pant.


Suddenly, the opposing force lost its hold on Sirius and he flew across the room at them. Lupin leapt to his feet and reached out to grab Sirius out of the air even as Harry gratefully cancelled the spell.


Somehow, during all of that, Luna had cancelled the spell on Neville and the two of them had dragged Ron and Ginny over towards a wall and out of the main line of fire. Lupin, with Sirius in his arms, turned to join them and Harry saw that his godfather was missing an arm. The arm that had fallen into the veil and which had been used to try and pull him in further until Harry’s spell grabbed him was completely missing. Only a shimmering silver outline of it remained, looking much like the way a ghost’s body did.


Horrified at his godfather’s maiming, Harry felt his anger boil beneath his skin and he saw red. Turning, he pointed his wand at Bellatrix even as his brain replayed the scene when Luna had killed Malfoy senior.


“DIFFINDO!”


“DIFFINDO!”


“DIFFINDO!”


Bellatrix had managed to dodge the first cutting curse, but the second one caught her right in the Dark Mark, slicing off her left hand and wrist. The third cutting curse caught her in the leg as she fell in pain, removing her right leg from the knee down.


“EXPELLIARMUS!”


Not thinking, just reacting Harry cast “PROTEGO!” and the spell bounced back and hit Dolohov, sending him flying back into Auror Tonks and knocking her down.


“Dubbledore!”


Neville’s voice cut through the fighting and caused many of the members of the Order of the Phoenix to cheer, but Harry ignored it all. His rage and horror over what was happening was too great. Instead he turned and saw in the far corner of the room that Moody was standing over the crumpled form of Kingsley, trying to defend them both from three different Death Eaters.


Aiming his wand he called out, “DIFFINDO!”, “IMPEDIMENTA!”, “STUPEFY!”


Rookwood caught the Diffindo in the mask, shattering it and sending him flying. The Impedimenta sailed harmlessly overhead another Death Eater, while Crabbe was hit square in the chest with the Stupefy causing him to keel over onto his face.


Lupin must have taken charge of his friends and told them what to do, because Luna and Ginny began casting “ACCIO WAND!” at every fallen Death Eater even as Lupin began to transfigure the floor around them to grab hold of them and not let go.


Harry took two loping steps towards Moody when his scar burst into a flame of agony that sent him crashing to his knees. Voldemort had arrived.


He could vaguely hear him give an impassioned speech about his immortality and righteousness before demanding the prophecy. Dumbledore responded with pleas for him to stop and give himself up as well as disappointment in the path he took. Part of him could understand that Dumbledore didn’t want to be forced to fight his ex-student, no matter how evil and twisted he’d become but Harry also knew that Voldemort would never give up, and would never change. He just didn’t understand why Voldemort stood there and listened.


At least, not until his scar exploded in agony once more and he felt his mind being pushed aside. His back arched and he screamed in agony at the invasion. Oddly enough, Voldemort echoed his movements, writing in pain and screaming.


Dumbledore must have understood what was happening though, because he stood up tall and literally radiated magic in a shimmer of power. “Tom! Leave Harry’s mind at once!” Harry didn’t hear the incantation, but a bolt of golden light left Dumbledore’s wand and slammed into Voldemort. Instantly, the agonizing pressure in his skull left and Harry was able to think again.


“I don’t understand. I’ve been able to access your mind instantly at any time until now. Severus worked long and hard to ensure you could not hope to defend against me thanks to your so-called Occlumency lessons. How could you keep me out now?”


Voldemort never got his answer however since his little speech managed to infuriate Dumbledore. That started a magical battle the likes of which few people had ever seen as advanced arcane magics flew back and forth.


Exhausted and his body throbbing with remembered pain, Harry was swaying in place even as Lupin dashed out and grabbed hold of him. Turning his head to look at his ex-professor he said, “I knew that Snape was a no good Death Eater. I told everyone that he was trying to make it easier for Voldemort to get to me. No one believed me except for Ron.”


“Hush, Harry. It’ll be okay. We know the truth now.”


Lupin began to help Harry back over to where his friends and godfather lay when Fudge and several Aurors came stumbling into the room. They all looked around at the bodies of Death Eaters and Order members, at the several small skirmishes still happening and at the magnificent and terrifying battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort.


Fudge gasped in horror, “It’s,…it’s…Lord Thingy! – here – I – I – “


Harry gurgled a laugh deep in his throat. “Now do you believe me, Fudge?”


The Minister turned and looked at him, shock and confusion on his face. “Potter? Is that you?”


“Yes, it’s me! And that,” Harry pointed towards Dumbledore and Voldemort just as the Dark Lord cast the killing curse at the Headmaster only for a large slab of marble to appear in midair and block it. “is the Dark Lord Voldemort, rising from the grave!”


Fudge paled as he and his Auror’s ducked out of the way of flying shards of marble from the slab that exploded on contact with the killing curse. “I…”


“A full year, Fudge! He’s had a full year to recruit new Death Eaters and to strengthen his defenses! All because you were more interested in the bribes of Death Eaters like Malfoy and Nott! You would damn us all to line your pockets with gold!”


“Now see here!” Fudge straightened up, his Aurors shambling around him, unsure whether to defend him or fight off the various Death Eaters still running about.


Fudge, however, didn’t get a chance to finish whatever he wanted to say. Luna, with Ginny propped up next her; both aimed their wands at the Minister. “Go on and join your unholy Master and leave us alone!”


Fudge took a sharp step back and held up his hands, “Hey! Unholy Master? I’m not a Death Eater!”


Harry tilted his head sideways and studied the shivering and pathetic man. “No? Let’s find out then, shall we?”


Aiming his wand at the Minister and the Aurors, Harry cast “ACCIO DEATH EATERS!”


Fudge, along with two of the five Aurors were lifted off of their feet and soared through the air at them. Luna, Ginny and Lupin all cast “STUPEFY!”


Harry had enough energy to smirk knowingly at the surprised Aurors left behind and then to turn to Neville and say, “Collect their wands, eh mate?” before the world began to swirl around him and darkness encroached on his vision. Before he knew it, Harry was slipping into unconsciousness.

  
2 – The Infirmary


Harry was startled awake by Ron’s voice yowling loudly about the ‘men with dead faces made of bone’. Terror and protective rage swirled through him in ever-increasing amounts at such a rate of speed as to leave him dizzy.


The next thing he knew, he was crouched down low and growling like an animal with his claws bared. Remus Lupin was behind him, holding him from attacking whatever had frightened Ron and Neville was in front of him with his hands pressed tightly to his chest and babbling in his face. Slowly, he calmed enough to make sense of what his friend was saying.


“…down Harry! It’s okay! Well, sort of…I mean, it’s just a nightmare, yeah? Ron’s fine. Just calm down. Really, Harry. Ron will be fine. Honest. No Death Eaters here. We’re fine, or will be soon enough. Just, take a deep breath and calm down, yeah?”


And Harry did take a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart as he backed away from the edge of battle. That’s when he realized that the reason he knew it was Lupin behind him was that he could smell him. Oh, it wasn’t a bad smell, but it was a wild one. An oddly dark mix of wolf and man, pain and loyalty, with just a hint of exhaustion.


Slowly, he let the tension bleed out of his body and started to stand up straight, only that didn’t seem to work too well. He felt slightly hunched over and his legs felt very strange. There wasn’t any pain, which was good, but he was very tired and hungry enough to eat a horse.


Confused and still coming down off of the adrenaline that had flooded his system, he looked down and found himself staring at his paws.


Paws!?!


His hands weren’t really hands anymore! The palm was much larger and had a thick pad of dark calluses and the backs were covered in thick golden fur. His fingers, while still technically fingers, had been blunted very short and had thickened greatly. While his thumb and pointer finger could still bend enough to touch tips, they were the only ones. And he certainly couldn’t bend this mishmash between a hand and a cat’s paw into a proper fist.


“Wha…?!”


A flash of sympathy washed over Neville’s face and he patted Harry’s shoulder in a way that had undertones of petting Crookshanks in it. Behind him, Lupin gave vent to a loud sigh of sorrow and frustration.


“Climb back up onto the bed Harry and I’ll tell you what happened after you collapsed at the Ministry.”


For the first time, Harry took notice of his surroundings enough to realize that he was in the infirmary at Hogwarts. He was standing next to an empty bed that was obviously his. Ten feet to his right, Madam Pomfrey and Mrs Weasley were fussing over a quickly calming Ron while Ginny stood by them with tears in her eyes. Directly across the room from his bed Hermione was asleep, the blankets around her chest propped up in the air so that they didn’t touch her. Ten feet to the side of Hermione’s bed and across from Ron’s was a bed holding a sleeping Luna. Tears ran down her face as she tossed and turned in her sleep.


On the other side of Harry’s bed was a new wall that he’d never seen in the infirmary before. It only held a single door and Mad-Eye Moody stood in front of it like a guard. Moody nodded at him sharply and gestured to the bed.


“Go on lad, climb on in and listen to Lupin. Afterwards, once all the facts have sunk in, you and I are going to have a little talk too. Don’t think that I didn’t notice that it was you that came to mine and Kingsley’s defense against Rookwood, Crabbe and Carrow. You most likely saved both of our lives, you know.”


Harry didn’t really know although he had a blurry memory of seeing Moody standing over Kingsley’s crumpled body while dueling against three Death Eaters at once. He was glad that the tall black Auror had survived though, so he just nodded and climbed onto the bed.


It was awkward since his oddly shaped and fur covered limbs didn’t want to move the way they used to. He was trying not to panic about it and just concentrated on getting as comfortable as possible before turning to face Neville and Lupin. He held up one golden paw in front of him and waved it at them.


“First thing. Why haven’t I been changed back into a human?”


Harry swallowed hard with apprehension. Even his voice was different, deeper and growling.


Neville looked down at the floor and Lupin gave him a pained half smile that was clearly forced.


“Well, from what we were told it was Malfoy that cast this transformation on you. Correct?”


Harry nodded, growling with displeasure unconsciously at the thought of the snobbish blonde Death Eater.


Lupin nodded and continued, “Madam Pomfrey suspected and Professor McGonagall confirmed that it’s the same spell that Crouch Jr cast on Draco Malfoy when he was pretending to be Moody.”


They all glanced over at the paranoid retired Auror and watched him scowl and finger his wand before looking away and back at each other.


“That spell isn’t a normal human-to-animal transfiguration, but instead is one that you cast on somebody to help them find their animagus form.”


Neville nodded and spoke up, a bit of vicious vindictiveness in his voice. “That’s part of why it was so humiliating for the little ponce. Here he is walking around all puffed up with his Death Eater pride about how superior he was and it turns out that he’s nothing but a ferret. Crouch didn’t choose the form, Malfoy’s personality did.”


Lupin nodded and gestured at Harry. “Malfoy senior was, we think, trying to return the favor. I believe that he assumed you would turn into some helpless and defenseless animal and that he could then carry you off to his Master easier. Ginny stopped him halfway through by setting him on fire and breaking his concentration.”


“She set him on fire?” Harry interrupted with glee. Neville and Lupin nodded while Harry huffed out a sound that was half growl and half purr instead of human laughter. “I didn’t even notice at the time.”


Lupin shrugged. “Understandable. You were probably in too much pain and very confused from your change, even if you stopped half-way through.”


Harry nodded and looked over himself as best he could. He sort of looked like a cross between human and lion. “So, why am I still like this?”


Once more Neville looked away and Lupin appeared to be pained. Harry knew that he wasn’t going to like the answer and braced himself.


“Both Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore tried to fix this. They tried to complete the change as well as reverse it. You managed to shake off the magic from all of their attempts.” Lupin paused and Harry noticed that both of their scents changed. Lupin’s took on an edge of sadness and Neville’s just a touch of fear mixed with anger. “Professor McGonagall has offered to work with you to teach you animagus magic in the hopes that you could transform yourself, but Professor Dumbledore thinks that You-Know-Who did something to you…”


Harry growled. Neville tensed and his fear scent increased. Harry clenched his paws and tried to calm down from the spike of anger that even the very mention of Voldemort created in him. He was suddenly distracted by an odd sensation in his half-human paws. Looking down, he watched in fascination as his thick claw-like fingernails extended and retracted from the tips of his fingers the same way that Crookshanks’ claws did.


“Harry?...”


Neville’s hand shook his shoulder lightly and he looked up.


“He possessed me. Or tried to.” He tilted his head back and tried to remember. “I was so angry. Sirius had been hurt, my friends were all hurt and in danger. Curses were flying left and right. I had thought Kingsley was dead and Moody was fighting for his life. Luna and I had both just killed someone. My emotions were raging out of control and Dumbledore just stood there lecturing Voldemort like he was some student caught out of bounds after curfew. I lost it then…”


Harry looked up into Lupin’s eyes. “That’s when it happened. I wondered why Voldemort would just stand there and let himself be scolded like a boy, but he wasn’t really. He was using Legilimency on me. He got into my head, but it wasn’t like before.”


“What do you mean?”


Harry shrugged as best he could, which wasn’t very since his spine and shoulders seemed to be hooked up differently now.


“Well…he could get into my head and cause me lots of pain through my scar. It’s like my skull is splitting open and I can’t even think right. The pain rides right on the surface where our connection is. Other times he can get in and I see images or hear sounds, but there is no real feeling of pain. It’s just sort of fuzzy around the edges, like a dream.”


He shook his head and sighed out a rumbling growl. “This time it was as if we were both in pain. Lots of it, and it went down much further than my curse-scar flaring up. He screamed and withdrew. He was shocked and angry, though. I don’t think he expected that to happen.”


Lupin nodded and grimaced. “That sort of makes sense after hearing Professor Dumbledore’s theory. He said that he thought You-Know-Who did something to you at the Ministry. He didn’t say what, but only that something unexpected happened and it locked you into this half-human half-lion form.”


Lupin scratched his chin and looked thoughtful, “He muttered something about it making sense because when You-Know-Who used that ritual to build himself a new body it turned out to be half-snake.”


“What? Why would that have anything to do with Harry being stuck as a lion?”


Neville was a surprising mix of confusion and indignation. Harry was curious about that as well, but Lupin just shook his head. “I don’t know.”


Neville looked like he was going to argue about it and Harry appreciated that his friend would stick up for him, but it wasn’t Lupin’s fault. Instead, he lifted up his large golden paw again and asked, “So…what exactly…do I look like?”


Lupin looked at him for a moment, then sighed and seemed to deflate. Pulling out his wand he pointed it to the space next to his bed and silently conjured a large free-floating mirror that hung in the air from nothing. Swallowing hard and with an encouraging smile from Neville, Harry slid off the bed.


Stepping in front of the mirror, the first thing that Harry stared at was his head and face. Half-lion indeed! He was covered in gold and tawny fur and his skull and face had been reshaped into that of a lion. His nose, mouth and cheeks were pushed out into a muzzle and his ears poked up out of his hair which was longer and just as shaggy and messy as ever. Only now it extended down his thick neck to his shoulders and up along his throat in a ruff just as a real lion’s mane would lay.


Huffing in a growling version of panting from the panic rising in him, Harry threw off the dressing gown he was wrapped in to find he only had a pair of boxer-shorts on under it. This unobstructed view let him see that his entire body was now covered in golden fur except for the black ruff of mane framing his leonine face. Spinning around and looking over his shoulder, Harry saw that the mane extended down about three-quarters of his back the way a lion’s did.


Spinning back around, he noted the other changes to his body. His shoulders, back and ribs were large and barrel shaped the way a lions’ was. He was mostly standing upright, but he tended to lend forward a bit. This was because his hips and legs were shaped differently. They now had the shape and odd twists that a cat’s did, with the elongated foot bone up in the air and they ended in overly large paws.


Harry wasn’t even sure how he was managing to balance on those twisted limbs until he realized that he had a long tail hanging down behind him that helped by acting as a counterweight to his leaning forward. The tail ended in a black furred tip that began to sway back and forth as his agitation grew.


This image of a giant lion that stood upright and learned to speak was only made more surreal due to the fact that he was wearing boxer-shorts and that someone had transfigured his glasses to fit his much more widely shaped head. They were currently resting on his muzzle just behind his shiny black nose.


Harry pointed at his image in the mirror, horrified. “I’m stuck like this?!”


“I’m afraid so, laddie.” It was Mad-Eye who answered. “At least, for now. Perhaps McGonagall can help you get it reversed, but perhaps not.”


Harry just gaped at him and barely reacted when Neville came over, picked up his dressing gown and helped him drape it back around his shoulders. Lupin released his spell and the mirror dissolved away in a puff of smoke. Slowly and trying hard to still the tremors that had come over him in shock, Harry climbed back onto his bed.


“That’s actually a large part of what we need to talk about. You can’t go back to those muggles looking like that, despite Albus’ suggestion of a glamour charm. That’s a good thing though as I don’t trust your Uncle, hideous man that he is.”


Harry nodded, “Vernon would see this as the perfect excuse to kill me in my sleep.”


Lupin looked pained at that admission, but Moody just nodded.


“I offered to take you in. You have great potential for battle magic, Potter. And being half-way transfigured into your animagus form didn’t effect that. You’re a prime target and you should by trained to reach that potential, plus you need to learn how that new body works. How to walk, run, dodge and fall.”


While most parts of Harry just wanted to curl into a little ball and cry, scream and rage against fate he knew that if he started he might not stop. Instead, he pushed all that down and tried to focus on what Moody was saying.


“I…I appreciate that but,…why don’t I just stay with Sirius? And what about my friends? Are they going to be okay? Can they be trained to defend themselves too?”


“Harry, Harry…” Lupin held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Slow down, one question at a time. As for your friends, well…”


Lupin gestured to Neville, “As you can see, Madam Pomfrey fixed Neville’s nose up fine and Ginny’s ankle didn’t take much longer than that to heal.” He sighed and looked over at Luna briefly. “There isn’t really anything physically wrong with Luna. She’s been suffering extreme nightmares and acts kinda odd when she’s awake. Madam Pomfrey thinks it’s from killing Malfoy. She wants her to visit a Mind Healer. Tonks is trying to arrange for her to talk to the Mind Healer that works with the Aurors after a bad assignment.”


Harry nodded, “Luna’s always been a bit odd, but she’s never really suffered from nightmares. I’m glad she’s gonna get help though.”


When Lupin didn’t respond, Harry looked up at him. “And Ron and Hermione?”


Lupin sighed softly. “Hermione was hit by a very dark hex cast by Dolohov. The fact that he did it silently is the only thing that saved her life because he couldn’t cast it at full power. Unfortunately, it still did a lot of damage and then she laid there for a long while with no medical treatment.”


Harry gasped and Neville reached out and put one hand on his shoulder in support.


“When she was found, they rushed her to St. Mungo’s. She was in surgery for a few hours to repair the damage and she’ll be up and about in a few days. The only thing is, despite the fact that she’ll live some of the damage was not reversible, much like your transfiguration.”


A whimper caught in his throat. “Wha…what couldn’t be fixed?”


“All her organs are working, Harry. She’s not really damaged anymore. However, she had a huge strain on her system. Particularly her heart and lungs since the curse hit her chest. The healers won’t know for sure until she’s more active, but they suspect that she’ll suffer from a lingering weakness in both organs. She’ll most likely be susceptible to sickness in them and she’ll probably have what muggles call asthma.”


Harry closed his eyes and tilted his head back even as a tear escaped and ran down his fur covered cheeks.


“Merlin…it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t…”


He didn’t get any further than that before Neville hit him in the back of his head and snarled at him. “Stop that!”


Harry gaped at his normally reticent friend in shock.


“It’s not your fault! How arrogant are you?”


“What?”


“It’s V-V-Voldemort’s fault! He tricked you into believing you had to go to the Ministry and no adult was around to help!”


“But…”


“It’s Hermione’s fault! You wanted her, all of us actually, to stay here at Hogwarts and we refused. She refused to stay behind. She followed you there against your express wishes.”


“But…”


“It’s Dolohov’s fault! He cast the curse. Not you! He could have cast a stunner. He could have cast a body-bind. He could have disarmed her. But did he? NO! He chose to cast a foul and dark curse at a school girl!”


And really, Neville did have a good point even if he was shouting a bit. Still…


“Neville, you don’t understand. If I hadn’t gone to the Ministry, none of you would have gotten hurt.”


“Maybe,” Lupin cut in. “But as it turns out, Snape really was working against us like Sirius and Moody have been saying. Those occlumency lessons of his weren’t real ones like he promised the Headmaster. He was actually working to open your connection to You-Know-Who even wider. You were set up. It’s very possible that your decision to believe the visions were true was forced on you by him or his Master.”


“Besides…” Hermione’s voice was a weak croak and Harry leapt off of his bed and dashed over to her. “I’m not one of your fangirls, Potter. I don’t do what you say just because you’re the bloody Boy-Who-Lived.”


His absolute joy at Hermione being awake was completely derailed by the fact that she had said a swear word. “Hermione! Language!”


She chuckled weakly and then opened her eyes and looked at him for the first time.


With a gasp, Hermione’s eyes got very very wide and her hand in Harry’s paw began to tremble. Her chest started to make an awful wheezing noise as she gasped for breath by taking in big gulps of air. Fear scent tainted the air.


Harry cringed back away from her, horrified that his best friend was frightened of him. Then Neville was there, wrapping one arm around Harry’s wide shoulders and reaching out with the other to pat Hermione’s arm gently.


“It’s okay, Hermione. It’s just Harry under all that fur. Malfoy senior hexed him something fierce and they haven’t quite figured out how to undo it yet.”


Hermione’s eyes snapped to Neville’s even as her wheezing started to turn into a cough. Harry could hear Lupin call for Madam Pomfrey in the background, but he was too caught up in the fact that he was a monster now.


“Harry wouldn’t hurt you Hermione, no matter what he looks like. He’s still Harry in there. Right, Harry?”


Hermione’s eyes turned to him, but he couldn’t speak until Neville let go of his shoulder and lightly hit the back of his head.


“Uh…yeah. It’s…it’s me, Harry.” He looked down at his misshapen paw-like feet. “I’m sorry I scared you. I sorta forgot I look like a monster. I…I was just so happy that you woke up.”


“Oh, Harry!” She started to say more, but broke off in another coughing fit. Then Madam Pomfrey was there, bustling about and feeding a potion to Hermione. It must have tasted awful since she made a face at it, but once it was down the medi-witch gave her a glass of water to wash her mouth out.


“You two,” Madam Pomfrey pointed at Harry and Neville, “back over to Harry’s bed. He needs to be checked out again and then he needs to eat. Miss Granger needs rest more than anything else. You can talk to her later.”


Then, before they could do anything else, Madam Pomfrey was fitting an odd shaped mask over Hermione’s mouth and nose. It had a cloth bag attached to it that filled itself with air and then squished flat again as it emptied. It made a soft hissing-whoosh noise and Harry assumed it was to help her breath through her asthma attack.


Once he was settled again, Harry looked back up at Lupin and asked, “What about Ron?”


Lupin glanced over to Ron’s bed and Harry turned to look as well. The boy was lying on his bed unconscious. He was wrapped mummy style along his arms, chest and face. It even appeared that his signature red hair had been shaved clean off.


“Do you remember the creature that…attached itself to him?”


Harry nodded his head, even as he continued to watch his sleeping friend. “He called them brains.”


“Yeah.” Lupin sighed again and Harry could hear how tired he was in that soft sound. “In a strange way, that’s what they were. Creatures with overly large brains and no real body to speak of.”


Neville shuddered next to Harry, “They were just the most awful things ever.”


Harry and Lupin both nodded in agreement. “They were, apparently, the creation of a mad-genius of a Dark Lord about twenty years before Professor Dumbledore was born. They were captured in a raid when one of that Dark Lord’s strongholds was attacked by the Ministry. No one is really sure what they are called or how they were…bred, but they are intelligent sentient creatures.”


“They can’t survive out of the tank they are stored in, something about the liquid being what they breath or eat or something. I’m not sure which. Anyway, the reason that the Dark Lord at the time made them is so that they could help him tell the future, so he would know what to do and what not to do. They are sort of like the ultimate seers.”


“Unfortunately, most of the people who have worked with them believe that they are all insane. I guess that knowing all possible possibilities and having no way to communicate with anyone, or to effect anything in any way drove them all insane. The theory is that when that one…brain-thing latched onto Ron, it knew it was dying and tried to shove everything that it knew into his head.”


Harry’s head whipped around and he turned tragic cat’s eyes filled with pain and horror onto his one-time teacher.


“Ron hasn’t woken up yet, so we don’t know what kind of damage they did to his mind, although he’s been suffering from nightmares periodically. The bandages he’s wrapped in are covering swirling scars that look a lot like scroll-work. They’ll heal, but never really fade away. It’s unfortunate that he has them at all, but…well, in a way they are quite beautiful. Delicate and exotic looking, as if someone has carved designs in his skin.”


Harry began shaking and he shook his head back and forth in a form of denial. Neville was trying to calm and sooth him, but the horror, pain and guilt was washing over him and threatening to drown him. He wanted to growl in anger, howl in pain, cry from sorrow and rage against fate.


“Harry! Snap out of it lad!”


Moody’s voice ripped through the room and his grief. He turned to look to see the old beat-up Auror shaking at finger at him.


“You didn’t do this to any of your friends. This whole mess was orchestrated by the Dark Lord with Snape and Malfoy’s direct help. Dumbledore’s lack of action and Fudge’s idiocy merely facilitated everything to happen more smoothly.”


He grunted in approval and stomped down on the tile floor with his wooden leg, “If you messed up anything, it was his plans! You and your friends fought his best soldiers to a standstill. You and they might have gotten hurt, but so did the Death Eaters. Several of them are dead, the rest are in custody and awaiting trial. Only the Dark Lord himself managed to escape, and he was badly injured by all reports.”


Moody gestured to Luna, Hermione and the Ron. “Grieve for their pains, worry about their recovery, but don’t lessen their contribution and sacrifices by taking on blame that isn’t yours.” His finger came up to point at Harry again. “Be proud of them, laddie. They’re genuine heroes!”


Before Harry could answer or argue the point further, Madam Pomfrey was back with Professor McGonagall in tow. Neville and Lupin were shooed away and then the two witches poked and prodded him with their wands as they ran scan after test after diagnostic. They rattled off a bunch of theories that delved deeply into medical and advanced transfiguration magics. Harry couldn’t really follow much of it. Instead, he was resigned to put up with them talking over his head until they felt like explaining it him.

 
3 – The Interview


The morning had been quite distressing so far. Luna had awoken and immediately begun to cry silent tears that trickled down her cheeks from large sad eyes, her breath hitching in her throat as she tried not to call attention to herself. Madam Pomfrey had been forced to pour a calming draught down her throat and hit her with a series of cheering charms before she would even touch her breakfast.


Hermione’s breakfast had contained a regimen of potions and spells that far outweighed the tiny amount of clear broth she’d been given. Even then, she had to speak slowly and softly to prevent another episode of hacking coughs.


Ron hadn’t awakened at all.


His own treatment of several monitoring spells had pronounced him as healthy as could be for someone trapped at the midpoint of a human-to-animal transfiguration. He was provided with a large and tempting breakfast in the hopes that he’d be feeling well enough to start working with Professor McGonagall that very afternoon.


The main problem Harry had with his breakfast was that his new paw-like hands were not adept had holding, let alone manipulating, the flatware. Easily half of his food had ended up in his lap before Hermione had suggested that if his spoon and fork had thicker and easier to grip handles that he might be able to hold them better.


Solving that problem still left him with the challenge of eating with a lion shaped muzzle as apposed to a human mouth. His aim was off by quite a bit, and chewing was not the simple process it used to be. The fur about his muzzle and cheeks were food stained, to be sure.


Neville had arrived just as he finished up, and had taken one look at him before sighing and tsking at him.


“Blimey, Harry! You need a bib. I have a two and a half year old cousin who makes less of a mess than you do.”


“Thanks, mate.” Harry growled in irritation. “I appreciate your support.”


With a sigh, Neville shifted his bag off of his shoulder and plopped it down on the end of Harry’s bed. Flipping open the top he pulled out a complete Gryffindor uniform and turned to set it on the bedside table.


“Sorry, Harry.” He flashed a sheepish grin. “I know that it can’t be easy to eat right now. Why they ever figured scrambled eggs would be a good breakfast for you, I’ll never know. I can barely keep ‘em on a fork and my hands are…well, normal.”


Hermione snickered softly from her own bed and Harry sighed. “Yeah, the toast was much easier to handle, but stuff kept falling out of my mouth. It’s probably a good thing that Hermione didn’t get much to eat; I’d have scared away her appetite.”


“Well, we should get you cleaned up as best we can. You have an interview today.”


Harry blinked and then turned to Neville. “I do?”


Neville nodded and gestured at the girls.


“Yeah, we all do. You and I will be meeting with Madam Bones this morning. She’s the head of the DMLE. After us, I think she’ll interview Ginny, then Luna and maybe Hermione. I don’t know about that last one. That’ll depend on if Madam Pomfrey says she’s up to it.”


“Oh.”


At that point, Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room and the breakfast trays disappeared. She started to speak, looked at Harry, blinked and then shook her head.


“Mr. Potter, I suggest you make use of the patient facilities,” she pointed to a door halfway down the room beyond Ron’s bed, “and clean yourself up a bit.”


She turned to face Neville, “Mr. Longbottom, if you would carry in his clothing and adjust the spigots for him, I would appreciate it. After all, I’m not sure if he’ll be able to work the knobs with his hands as they currently are.”


“Yes, Madam.” Neville picked Harry’s uniform back up and gestured with his head. “Come on Harry. Wouldn’t do to meet with Madam Bones with eggs in your fur.”


Harry’s sigh had undertones of a growl in it, but he obediently slid out of bed and managed a loping sort of walk as he trailed after his friend.


Once in the bathroom, he saw that Neville had set his clothes on the side counter and that he was leaning into the shower stall. A second later and he could hear the water rushing out of the faucet and pouring along the tile walls. Leaning over, Harry peered past Neville and looked at what was, essentially, an indoor waterfall. He grimaced in distaste.


“Um…” He turned a confused and mildly distressed look up at his friend. “I don’t know about this, Nev.” He gestured to the shower. “It’s awful…wet in there.”


Neville turned around slowly and graced Harry with a look that clearly stated his surprise that Harry was such a moronic twit. “Yeeeeah? It’s a shower. It’s wet.” He gestured to the shower in question. “Hence the water.”


Without realizing it, Harry began to pace from his uneasy frustration. “I know, but…just the thought of all that water pouring down on me, running in tickling rivulets through my fur…” Harry shivered in horror and the ruff of his mane began to stand on end. “You can’t make me get in there Neville. I won’t do it.”


Neville’s expression went from baffled, to dawning realization, to amusement. “This is a cat thing, huh?”


Harry spun about and opened his mouth to deny it when he stopped, tilted his head and considered it thoughtfully. “Maybe,” he conceded, “but that doesn’t change the fact that all that water is just so,…so…”


“Wet?” Neville interjected.


“Yes!” Harry nodded his head vigorously.


Neville sighed and leaned back to turn the water in the shower off. Harry heaved a sigh of relief.


“What about a bath? That way the water wouldn’t stream over you?”


Harry considered it. He shook his head emphatically no even as he said, “Maybe.”


With a huff, Neville tossed his hands up in the air and glared at Harry. “Well, you can’t go about looking like a furry rag-a-muffin. So, what do you suggest?”


A quick glance in the mirror over the sink confirmed what Neville said. He couldn’t go about like he was. It was bad enough he was a walking talking lion, no need to add to the humiliation by wearing his food on his face. Slowly, an idea came to him. He was sure it would work.


“Scourgify me.”


Neville blinked at him. “Come again?”


Harry rolled his eyes. “Take out your wand, point it at me and cast Scourgify.”


“Oh.”


Then, apparently after briefly considering it, Neville shook his head and apologized, “Sorry mate. No wand. It broke at the Ministry during the fight.”


“Oh.”


Nodding, Harry opened up the bathroom door and leaned out. Spying his own wand on his bedside table, he held out his hand, “ACCIO WAND!” For a brief moment he didn’t think it would respond in his new form, but then it lifted off the table and flew across the room towards him. Snatching it out of the air, he closed the door again and pointed it at himself.


“SCOURGIFY!”


The spell rushed out at him, whipped around his face and head before slowly dissipating. Smiling with a tooth filled gape of his jaw, Harry turned to Neville. “Did it work?”


Neville did a double take at him, his eyes growing wide and his jaw clenched around a few snorts and guffaws. Harry’s smug satisfaction at finding a solution dimmed quickly.


“What?!”


Neville merely pointed at him and snorted in laughter again. Harry spun to face the mirror and stilled in shock. The spell had definitely cleaned all of the mess off of him. Unfortunately, it also dumped a whole bunch of static into his fur and the black mane surrounding his face all stood up on end. He rather fancied that he appeared to have gotten a good jolt of muggle electricity.


Lifting a paw, Harry pressed it against his forehead in mild frustration and turned his head slightly to look over at a giggling Neville in the mirror.


“Yeah, just keep yucking it up laughing boy, and the first time I need to cough up a hairball, I’m aiming for your bed.”


This, unfortunately, left Neville laughing even harder than before.


Obviously, he needed to do what he always did when facing a seemingly impossible problem. With a grunt, he turned and headed for the door. Swinging it open, he strode into the main infirmary room and called out, “Hermione! I need help.”


Both Hermione and Luna looked over at him, glanced at each other and then back at him once more. Then they both began to giggle.


“Oh, yes. Ha-ha. Let’s all laugh at the human-cat-boy who’s now afraid of the shower because of all the nasty wet water.”


“Wha…wha…what did you, uh…do to yourself?”


Harry blushed wildly, but wasn’t sure if anyone could tell through the thick fur.


“I cast Scourgify on my face to clean it. Then, well…” he pointed to the static filled fur standing on end, “this happened.”


Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, that spell is far too strong and rough to use on hair or fur.”


She lifted her hand and pointed her finger to show him the wand movements. He copied her and she corrected him slightly. Then she grinned and told him, “The incantation is Tersus Saeta.”


He tried it again, but this time aimed at his face. The spell washed over him, tingly and smelling like fresh summer air. When it dissipated, Hermione smiled at him.


“Much better.”


He grinned and nodded. “Thanks.”


Neville, much calmed down, simply grinned and gestured to the bathroom. “Well, come on then. You’ve got a lot of fur to clean, and not much time left.”


“Oh, Harry?”


“Yes, Luna.”


She handed over a large brush full of soft dark bristles. “For your mane.”


He took it and nodded again. “Thanks, Luna.”


Sighing, Harry plodded after Neville. This was going to be a long day, he just knew it.


Getting Harry ready proved to be a two man job. Neville had to cast Tersus Saeta at his back and help brush out his fur and mane in spots Harry couldn’t reach. His uniform didn’t quite fit his new body and a series of spells had to be cast on them as well. Luckily, Harry was very adept at various clothing alteration charms and transfigurations. He’d learned them from various sources including; books, teachers, Mrs Weasley as well as Lavender and Parvati. Actually, he’d had no choice but to learn them or wear Dudley’s cast-off clothing as they truly were.


Once his shirts had been adjusted to fit his larger chest and shoulders, and his trousers had been adjusted to fits his twisted and malformed legs, Harry was able to put them on. This, of course, was an exercise in patience, since it pushed his fur into strange and uncomfortable tufts. Trying to get his fur to lay straight underneath his clothing was not an easy challenge. He’d finally resorted to shrinking Luna’s brush and running it against his body under his layer of clothing while Neville snickered at him in the background.


Finally, after fixing her brush and casting a fairly strong teeth cleaning and breath-freshening spell inside his own altered mouth-turned-muzzle, Harry was ready to go.


Stepping out of the bathroom, Harry loped over to Luna and handed her the brush. “Thank you for that, it was a huge help.”


That started Neville snickering again, made Hermione gaze at him curiously and Luna beam a smile.


All in all, it was worth the aggravation. Harry looked good. His shirt and tie covered by a sleeveless jumper in Gryffindor colors highlighted his new large frame as well as the thick muscles that came with it. His trousers had been fitted to his new lower half, so that his tail was able to poke out the back of the seat. The trouser legs conformed to his new shape before gathering at the first major bend of his legs at his anklebone leaving the bottom half bare. No shoes could be adjusted to fit his back paws, and truthfully the very idea of it gave Harry the willies. So, each step he took sounded a soft whomp of paw-pad on stone followed by a series of soft clacks as his claws hit as well.


However, when he tossed his school robe over it all the long flowing fabric hid most of his strangeness from behind at least, and left the impression of a large senior student. The badge on the front of it proudly showing his Gryffindor House Crest made him seem some sort of mascot, however, since he deeply resembled that very lion.


“You look very nice, Harry.” Hermione’s voice was a soft breathy whisper.


His ears twitched and swiveled towards her. Harry couldn’t help that, it wasn’t something he did on purpose, but Luna gasped in delight and stared avidly at them. Harry’s blush was lost under his fur.


“Thank you.”


All further conversation was stopped when Professor McGonagall stepped into the room. She walked over to them and looked Harry up and down critically before smiling slightly.


“Well well. My Gryffindor Lion. I must admit, you cut a striking figure Mr. Potter. The first and second year girls in our House are going to coo at you and the boys will all probably want to try and talk you into biting random Slytherins.”


Harry grimaced at the idea of a pack of little girls fussing over him and wanting to pet and brush his fur. Then the second part of what she said hit him and he huffed a growling laugh.


“Eating Slytherins might sound like fun, but they’d probably give me the worst case of indigestion ever.”


McGonagall snorted in amusement before schooling her face into seriousness once again.


“In any case, that is a fine bit of transfiguration and charms layered into your uniform. Hopefully, we’ll be able to change you back or I dare say we’ll have to get you some tailored clothing. Otherwise, you’ll most likely have to adjust every article of clothing every morning before you dress.


Harry nodded. He had considered that earlier while dressing. His alterations should last all day and into the night, but it was a lot to do each morning. It was inconvenient and depressing.


An uncomfortable silence descended as everyone was faced with the fact that Harry might be stuck like that for a long while. Finally, McGonagall cleared her throat.


“Madam Bones wishes to speak with each of you, one at a time. Mr. Potter first, then Mr. Longbottom. After lunch, she will speak with Ms. Weasley and then Ms. Lovegood.” She turned to smile at Hermione. “After dinner, she would like to speak with you as well, Ms. Granger. However, that interview will be dependant on whether Madam Pomfrey feels you are up to it.”


She shifted again so that she could look at each of them, “As I already told Ms. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom, Madam Bones is the head of the DMLE. She is conducting these interviews to gather information about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Minister Fudge’s connection to Him, the reason for you all going to the Ministry the other night, what happened once you got there, Mr. Sirius Black’s role in this…mess, as well as any other pertinent information so that she can begin to sort everything out.” A long pause while she looked each of them in the eye. “I suggest that you be both polite and forthcoming.”


Harry merely raised one furry eyebrow at that.


Turning on her heel, she called, “Come along Mr. Potter. Madam Bones is waiting for you across the hall.”


With a sigh, Harry pulled the hood of his robe up over his head, leaving most of his face in shadow. Only his golden fur covered muzzle stuck out into the light. Quietly, with his oddly loping gait, Harry walked behind her.


She led him out of the infirmary and into the hallway. A few students were moving about, most likely trolling for gossip, as there were no classes in this wing. Harry tried to ignore them, even as he felt the weight of their stares.


Then suddenly McGonagall was opening a wooden door and ushering him into a small room that had once most likely been an office or maybe a private exam room.


There was a long table set up with a chair for him on one side. Madam Bones sat on the other. Several files with parchment sticking out of it lay on one end of the table, and a pensive sat at the other. Directly in front of Madam Bones sat a long scroll of parchment and a quill.


Madam Bones stared at him for a long moment before shaking herself out of her daze and standing to great them. “Thank you, Minerva.” She gestured to the chair. “Mr. Potter, please have a seat. I’m Madam Bones, Director of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. I have a few questions to ask about the other night, as I’m sure you realize.”


Harry nodded and shuffled over to the chair and sat. Professor McGonagall touched his shoulder briefly and he looked up at her.


“I’ll be back after your interview to escort you to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter.”


Harry hesitated and then nodded. He was more worried about returning to the tower looking like this than anything else. He was dreading the stares and the whispers that he couldn’t help but overhear.


Before he could dwell on that thought, Professor McGonagall swept from the room and Madam Bones sat back into her chair. She picked up the quill and stood it upright on the parchment before tapping the nib twice and letting go. It continued to stand there under its own power.


“Okay, let’s begin then.”


Harry looked up at her and rolled his eyes.


“Whatever. Look, Madam, I’m not really sure why you’re even bothering with me. After all, I don’t have control over my trust account so I can’t exactly offer you bribes of a monetary nature and thanks to Fudge and his hateful lackey Umbridge, my name is now worthless for publicity stunts and public backing of your mandates.”


Madam Bones grew very still and frowned fiercely at him. Harry just gazed at her calmly. He had faced worse than some middle-aged witch with a superiority complex.


“Are you suggesting that I would take bribes to do my job?”


Harry tilted his head and a look of confusion washed over him. “You work for the Ministry.” It was a statement of fact. “I’m not so naive as to believe that the Ministry is there to do anything other than keep the old pureblood families in power over those they think of as lesser creatures of pity and scorn.”


Harry growled lightly.


“You know, the uppity mudbloods and tainted half-bloods. Oh, let’s not forget the half-breed creatures.” He tilted his head the other way, “Then again, I’m a tainted half-blood by the Ministry’s reckoning, so maybe I wouldn’t be allowed to bribe my way clear of charges; real or made-up.”


He nodded as if it all made sense to him. “So, am I going to Azkaban or will I be fed to a Dementor?”


Madam Bone’s face was a mixture of shock, sadness and insult. “Do you truly believe so low of the Ministry, Mr. Potter?”


Harry huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Madam, after the first war against Voldemort,” he ignored her flinch, “over a dozen Death Eaters that clearly wore the Dark Mark branded into their arms were allowed to go free, and even work for the Ministry in positions of great power and trust. Sirius Black, a man with no Dark Mark and who had been actively working against the wanker and his band of inbred lunatics was shipped off to Azkaban with no trial, no interrogation and no chance to prove his innocence.”


Harry shrugged and spread his paws wide, “Why?” He growled and looked her right in the eye. “I’ll tell you why. It’s because those Death Eaters had access to large piles of shinning galleons and strong families of old blood backing them. They could offer money, favors and access to ancient magical artifacts. Sirius, on the other hand, had been disowned by his family for not being a dark wizard. He didn’t have access to wealth, a vast library or magical gadgets. Nor did he have the backing of one of the so-called Great Families.”


Another careless shrug. “The commoners were baying for blood. They demanded someone be punished. The Ministry had to choose between punishing the guilty and loosing their bribes or shipping off an innocent man to Hell on Earth. They choose to lock up the innocent and set free rapists, murderers and rabid racists.”


“But…”


Harry shrugged and ignored her pale face and shaking hands. “I figure now that Fudge was exposed as a Death Eater that Sirius could be exonerated and Fudge locked up.” He gave her a hard stare, “But only if the price is right and the exposure of official lies and corruption to the common rabble didn’t hurt the Ministry’s image too much. Unfortunately, as I said, I don’t have access to my trust account to pay for Sirius’s freedom.”


He shook his head and looked away. “I have absolutely no faith that he will be freed because it’s the right thing to do.”


A harsh growl and his head swung back around to glare at her. “So…what’ll it be today, Madam? Veritaserum? Torture? Memory Charms?” He tilted his head. “Or are we going to go directly to another attempt to have me assassinated?”


Madam Bones merely gaped at the leonine student that sat before her. She wasn’t sure how she lost control of this interview, but she had. What’s more, she was shocked and horrified at his opinion of the Ministry. It chilled her to think that his beliefs were shared by others his age. So young and so cynical.


And yet, if she thought about it, she really couldn’t blame him for some of it. She was very aware that there was much corruption in the high levels of government; unfortunately, Mr. Potter seemed to think that was all there was.


She took a deep breath and tried to calm and steady herself.


“Mr. Potter, I assure you that I am not here to collect bribes, nor am I here to have you tortured or…memory charmed in any way. If veritaserum is needed to prove what you say, it will be in the presence of several adults and at least one medi-witch or wizard. I’m not here as your enemy. I’m just trying to figure out the facts of what happened.”


Harry snorted, but didn’t say anything.


“I will also look into your claim that Sirius Black did not receive a trial. I don’t remember one way or the other. I was an Auror back then and had little to do with the Wizengamot at the time.”


“First, though…what exactly do you mean by another assassination attempt. When was the first one?”


Harry gaped at her, his eyes a mixture of confusion and frustration.


“What is with you purebloods? Is it deliberate blindness to the truth, or is it an affected cultural thing?”


She scowled at him and opened her mouth to refute his claim, but before she could he signed and started to speak.


“Surely you remember that completely illegal trial where I was hauled before the entire Wizengamot at the end of last summer for the crime of defending my own life?”


Her jaw snapped shut with a click.


“Think about it. Two Dementors, creatures which are completely under the domination and control of the Ministry I might add, fly across the entire length of Great Britain without attacking one person only to seek me out and try to devour my soul. I drive them off. Am I congratulated for saving myself and my defenseless muggle cousin?” Harry shook his shaggy head. “No. I’m charged with the use of underage magic. Because I didn’t roll over and die, I apparently disrupted Fudge’s plans and he punished me by trying to get my wand snapped.”


“A real pity I wasn’t sent back to the muggle world without a wand to defend myself. The Dementors would’ve had me for sure, then…”


Madam Bones frowned in thought. “They were rogues…”


Harry snorted in pure contempt.


“They were sent on direct orders of that vile woman Umbridge at Fudge’s request.”


Madam Bones frowned even more.


“The actions of Madam Umbridge are not what we are trying to determine here.”


Harry nodded. “I know. She only abused, tortured and attempted to kill muggleborns and half-bloods. It’s not like she went after a pureblood child.”


“Can you prove that?”


Harry nodded again. “Yes, but what’s the point? She’s a pureblood from a wealthy family and her victims aren’t. Seeing her get a slap on the wrist and being admonished not to be caught again isn’t worth the effort.”


Madam Bones sighed in frustration. “I assure you, if she is guilty of those crimes there will be justice.”


Harry huffed a growling laugh. “I’m young, not stupid. I know that there is no such thing as justice in the Wizarding World. There’s merely the wealthy pureblood families and everyone else.”

 

4 – The Interview (part 2)


Madam Bones stared at the child trapped in a dark transfiguration that sat before her and felt a mix of frustration and pity. Not because of how he currently looked, but because it was plain to her that he had lost all faith and hope in the government. He was cynical, angry and backed into a corner. He wasn’t so much afraid that she might hurt him; he was clearly expecting it and just waiting for the proverbial axe to fall.


Thinking back over what little she knew of him and his past, she found that she really couldn’t blame him for that. He’d been lied to, been lied about and had been treated harshly by Fudge and his cronies.


With a sigh, she looked over the table at him.


“I can’t get you to believe my words, so I’ll have to let my actions speak for me then.” She watched one of his eyebrows go up at that, but no other indication that he heard her. “We’ll go through each issue one by one. I’ll let you say your fill of them.”


She gesture to the parchment and quill before her. “This quill is copying what we say, word for word.”


Harry huffed a bit and then leaned over to read it and verify what she had said.


“I’m impressed Madam Bones. The last quill I saw like this was Rita Skeeter’s. It didn’t copy down a single thing I said. It wrote a bunch of nasty lies that painted me as a depraved and attention seeking lunatic that needed to be tied down and doused with calming potions.”


She didn’t know whether to be insulted or not after being compared to Rita Skeeter.


“Yes well, she uses a Quick Quotes Quill. It responds to its owner’s thoughts, not spoken words. This is a solicitor’s quill. It takes down the spoken word verbatim.”


Harry nodded. “A pity that reporters for the major wizarding paper aren’t forced to use them.” He grinned, a toothy and slightly frightening smile considering his new fangs. “The way the sheep all flock to it and believe every word printed as the gospel truth, Hermione thinks that the Daily Prophet print their stories on paper either charmed or cursed to force people to believe their lies, even when they contradict themselves continuously.”


Madam Bones arched an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. She had never considered that, but then again, she rarely read the paper because they usually said horrid things about her whenever she was mentioned. It would be an interesting thing to investigate later.


“I also have a pensive with me. I might ask you to share a memory to clarify certain things or to prove your words.”


Harry snorted and nodded. “A bit late for that, but fine. Whatever.”


Madam Bones paused a moment and nodded. It was true after all. He should have been interviewed under veritaserum and with collected pensive memories last year when he first clamed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. When she had suggested doing just that, Fudge had adamantly refused. Now she knew why.


Nodding, she opened the file next to her and glanced through it briefly before turning back to face him.


“Why did you and your friends leave Hogwarts and go to the Ministry?”


Harry tilted his head and seemed to consider her for a moment before sighing and shrugging.


“That damned curse scar on my forehead that fascinates people to the point of making them stare at it mindlessly while they whisper about me and point at me like some exhibit in the zoo is actually the physical point of a mental connection between me and Voldemort.”


She flinched and he sighed in exasperation.


“It’s only a stupid made-up name! No need to flinch and jump.” He shook his head and sighed. “Fine. Would you feel better if I use his real name?”


She gaped at him stupidly, “Real name?”


He nodded. “Tom Marvolo Riddle. Nasty little half-blood from Slytherin House years ago. Was actually Head Boy when he framed Hagrid to take the blame when he opened the Chamber of Secrets over fifty years ago.”


This was getting off track, but… “Hagrid was raising a monster here, though. An acromantula if I remember correctly.”


Harry nodded. “True. However, an acromantula doesn’t petrify people, nor kill them without a mark.” He huffed a laugh. “The basilisk that Tom let loose in the school did all that. Hagrid was just a half-giant boy, Tom might have been a half-blood, but the wizarding half was the Heir of Slytherin. It doesn’t take a lot of thought to figure out who would have their wand snapped, now does it?”


Madam Bones wondered just how much of this was truth and how much was a boy sticking up for a favored teacher mixed up with rumor. Another thing she’d have to look into later. Maybe she’d assign an Auror to investigate. If there was any truth to Hagrid being framed by the boy who would grow up to become the Dark Lord, then it was something that should come to light. If for no other reason than Hagrid would be exonerated and allowed to use a wand again.


She shuddered at the thought of being denied her wand for fifty years due to a lie.


She shook her head and glance up at Harry Potter. “This is interesting, but away from the point. Yes, use his real name. But please, you were explaining why you went to the Ministry.”


Harry nodded and stilled, seeming to gather his thoughts.


“Yeah…Well, the scar is a connection between us. I don’t know how it happened, but when the killing curse bounced from me to him; it created a link between us.” Harry shrugged. “According to Professor Dumbledore, he never really died. He was ripped out of his body and sent to wandering the earth as a wraith consisting of what was left of his soul, his dark magic and hatred.”


“Tom was not like the silvery ghosts that wander Hogwarts, though. He was powerfully magical and he was not happy at all. He taught himself how to possess people and take over their minds and bodies.” Harry shrugged and gestured vaguely in the air. “My first year here, he walked around Hogwarts wearing Professor Quirrell like some sort of cheap, ill-fitting suit. And every time he got near me it made my curse scar ache badly.”


“What?! Why didn’t we know about this back then?”


Madam Bones was horrified. Voldemort had possessed a teacher here while her precious Susan was a student?!


Harry shook his head. “I’m not sure really. At the time I was only eleven and barely knew anything of how the wizarding world works. I didn’t even think about telling the government. I told the Headmaster and we talked about it a bit. I guess I figured that he would handle it.”


He gave her a flat stare.


“As for him not informing anyone, I’m not surprised. I’ve since found out that he pretty much told everyone that Tom wasn’t really dead right after my parents were murdered. He explicitly explained about the truth of Tom being incorporeal as a magically powerful wraith that would most likely attempt to find a way to return to power.”


A careless shrug of dismissal. “The wizarding world acted true to form. Instead of taking steps to prevent that or to keep themselves safe, they freed all the Death Eaters, granted them government jobs and then spent two weeks celebrating my parents’ murders.”


Harry looked away in disgust. “I hear it was quiet the party. I’m sorry I couldn’t join, but I was busy starving half to death in a muggle cupboard.”


There wasn’t too much she could say to that. She clearly remembered Albus Dumbledore being laughed at as a paranoid lunatic for warning that the Dark Lord would return. That was when his reputation for being slightly mad began. And it was true that the wizarding world celebrated after You-Know-Who was defeated. Although it wasn’t the Potter’s death that was the cause of joy, despite what their orphaned son might believe.


She would think over that comment about starving in a cupboard later. It was surely nothing more than bitterness over losing his parents, right?


“Anyway, when Tom possessed Quirrell, it was the first indication that there was a magical link between us. Being physically near each other was painful; at least it was for me.”


“That changed once he found a way to create his own physical body. He built himself one somehow that was mostly made of Dark magic, snake venom and an unborn child. I don’t know the details of it all, and I don’t want to know them.” He shuddered and she couldn’t blame him for that.


“That body was small and weak though. He required a daily potion made of snake venom and…other vile things just to keep it alive. He found a ritual that would alter that body; strengthen it and cure it of its weaknesses.”


Idly, Madam Bones wondered when Harry’s disjointed tale would get to the part about the Ministry and she considered reminding him, but it was too interesting and she figured that it might be important.


“That was the whole point of the Triwizard Tournament, you see. He had his agents that were aware of his efforts to return to power push to have it revived. He would use the confusion and chaos of the Tournament to kidnap me. He needed my blood for the ritual, and he planned to kill me afterward as a demonstration; proof to his servants of his restored power.”


Harry chuckled; it was chillingly devoid of humor. “He already knew that he could do it and get away with it. After all, he’d sent his Death Eaters to the World Cup and caused a riot which killed several, injured many and had his Mark flying high over head. No one believed he had returned. It was laughed off as a sick prank.”


Harry shook his shaggy leonine head.


“The sheep were ripe for the slaughter.”


The grim look in his eyes belied his young age.


“Interesting conjecture, Mr. Potter. But how did this all lead you to the Ministry?”


A flat stare of dislike was turned her way. “Bone of the Father, unknowingly taken. Blood of the Enemy, forcibly taken. Flesh of the Servant, willingly given.” He turned away.


“After I was spirited away with Cedric by the portkey-trophy, the two of us found ourselves in an old graveyard. A huge cauldron was set up there, bubbling away with some foul smelling potion. Peter Pettigrew, better known as Wormtail in Death Eater circles, was there. He killed Cedric on Tom’s orders. I fainted from the pain in my curse scar, Tom was close and he was excited.”


“When I was woken up, I found myself tied to a headstone. Wormtail, added bones from a grave, a bit of my blood from where he had sliced my arm open and then he cut off his own hand into the cauldron. When all was in readiness, he dumped in the pseudo-body that Tom had formed for himself.”


“What emerged from that cauldron was a tall, powerful and healthy Dark Lord who appeared to be half-snake and was in full control of his magic. He gave Wormtail a new silver hand constructed of pure Dark magic and then used his Dark Mark to summon his so-called Inner Circle.”


Harry tilted his head and a thoughtful look crossed his leonine features. “Ya know; most of them trembled in fear before that wanker. All except Malfoy. He was quite the arrogant git. I think that’s what ultimately saved my life.”


Madam Bones blinked at that. “What do you mean? How could Lucius Malfoy being arrogant save your life?”


Harry shrugged and chuckled. “He made Tom mad. Instead of cowering and cringing before his mighty lord, he made a little speech about how important he was to the cause of pureblood supremacy. He pointed out that he was the real power behind the throne in the Ministry and the Hogwarts Board of Governors. It was true, so Tom knew he couldn’t afford to kill or alienate the git.”


Shaking his head he grinned. She ignored the mental observation that lion’s were fierce looking creatures when they flashed their overlarge teeth.


“Instead of just killing me, Malfoy’s impertinence inspired Tom to make a theatrical performance of dueling me to the death. That didn’t work out as he planned, though. Our wands are brother wands, and they locked up and refused to duel each other. I was able to escape in the confusion with Cedric’s body.”


He gestured vaguely around him. “Of course, Fudge covered up all the facts, had the one captured Death Eater that could confirm my story and perhaps provide more information Kissed by a Dementor before he could be questioned and then announced to the media and the wider wizarding world that I was a violent and insane attention seeking liar who had managed to fool a senile and addled Dumbledore.”


Madam Bones sighed. That story fit the facts, although it was told with a far different spin than she was used to.


“Why didn’t you offer to testify under veritaserum or give pensieve memories?”


Harry looked at her like she was insane. “To who? The Ministry? They were calling me insane and a liar. Any proof offered would be classified as mere delusions. To the newspapers? They only care about making money and not being shut down by the Ministry. One dead child and an insane Boy-Who-Lived sells lots of papers, while printing stories about the return of the Dark Lord leads to being arrested by Fudge.”


She pinched the bridge of her nose. “And last night? What was that?”


“That’s simple, really. The link between us changed when Tom got a new body. The first one was weak, so I had the stronger end of the link. I could sometimes see into his head, hearing his thoughts and seeing his actions. It caused me a lot of nightmares, I can tell you that. The newer body created with my blood was a lot stronger. Tom was able to take control of that link. I didn’t realize it at the time, and I still have trouble understanding it all…”


A haunted look flickered over his face for a moment, “Anyway, he began to send me dreams. They were mostly images, thoughts, ideas that were disjointed and confusing. I tried to figure them out, to understand what it all meant. It wasn’t easy. Dumbledore was more focused on his political battle with Fudge. Umbridge was slowly turning the school into a concentration camp of pain and woe with her Educational Decrees and refusal to let the students actually practice magic. In her spare time she enjoyed forcing various students to use a blood quill to write lines.”


He ignored her gasp of surprise to flash her a grimace, “Not my favorite activity.”


“The worst was Snape. Dumbledore ordered him to teach me Occlumency in the hopes I could keep Tom out of my head. Of course, Snape is a Death Eater despite him having convinced the Headmaster otherwise. He used those lessons to attack my mind and open the link wider for Tom.”


“Why didn’t you tell someone what he was doing?”


Harry just gazed at her quizzically. “Tell who? The Ministry lackey? She would just insist I was lying and force me to carve my hand up some more. Dumbledore? I’m not sure if it’s blackmail or if Snape had the man bewitched, but people have been complaining about his treatment of students for years and he just smiles, nods and tells the student to try to work harder at being a better more forgiving person. My friends? They were dealing with their own issues or didn’t believe me. They thought I was just trying to get out of the lessons because I hate Snape and since Dumbledore told me to do it, I should.”


He shrugged. “Anyway, Tom gave me a vision during the OWLs that led me to believe that he was at the Department of Mysteries torturing my godfather Sirius Black. I couldn’t get a hold of any adult but Snape, and he was no help. I couldn’t get a hold of Sirius and was informed he had gone to the Ministry. That was a lie, but I didn’t know it then. No one was around and I had no help.”


He looked upset. “So I decided to go after him myself. I tried to make my friends stay behind, but they insisted on going too. Hermione tried to tell me that it was a false vision, but I had been very carefully given evidence that it was true and separated from any adult help.”


“It turns out that Death Eaters were there waiting for me. Sirius was at home safe, but I was now in a position to get the Prophecy about myself and Tom. The Death Eaters were trying to force me to give it to them.”


“Then Tom and Dumbledore showed up and you know the details of the fight between the Death Eaters and us.”


Madam Bones just stared at him for a long moment. What he said was a lot to absorb, but taken all together it explained his hard cynical outlook. He had been, apparently, facing down the Dark Lord mentally and physically since he was eleven with little to no help. The adults around him and the wider wizarding world was more of a hindrance than any anything else.


His view of the world was skewed, she believed. He had seen all of the ugly and very little of the good. He was faced with bigotry and hatred, physical danger and the fickle nature of the media which had alternately praised him and accused him of heinous actions. He was pursued and persecuted by both the government and a terrorist cell. His only source of comfort or support was from a small group of underpowered and barely educated children. Now he was trapped in the mutated form of an animal and the world was staring at him in concern and confusion looking for answers.


At that moment, she believed that the worst curse of all was simply being Harry Potter.


Clearing her throat, she simply asked, “How did you get to the Ministry that night?”


He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Once we had escaped Umbridge and left her to the tender mercies of the Centaurs, we flew there on the backs of thestrals.”


Madam Bones frowned at that. She had seen the results of the so-called tender mercies of the Centaurs. Madam Umbridge was in a semi-catatonic state and healing from multiple injuries. She flew into a panic at even the thought of Centaurs approaching.


“Madam Umbridge was badly injured by those Centaurs. She’ll be a long time healing.”


Harry huffed a growling laugh. “Too bad they didn’t just kill her and destroy her body.” He sighed sadly. “This way she’ll just heal up and before you know it she’ll be back to torturing the downtrodden and terrorizing the oppressed.”


“Mr. Potter, Madam Umbridge is a highly respected member of the Ministry…”


Harry cut her off, waving one paw through the air negligently. “Yes, yes, yes. She’s a pureblood witch from a wealthy family. She can do whatever horrors she wishes as long as her victims aren’t purebloods. I know, I know…” He shrugged. “A guy can dream, though.”


“That is not what I meant.”


He nodded. “Yes it is. It’s just not the done thing to say it out loud. Doesn’t sound as enlightened as regulating dangerous beasts or ensuring the best pureblood families lead the way into the future or whatever other nicely worded drivel you prefer. Same thing though.”


“Mr. Potter, that is not true. I assure you.”


Harry tilted his head and studied her a moment. “Name me one, just one muggleborn witch or wizard that is a Senior Department Head, Wizengamot member or highly placed political consultant or advisor.”


She stared at him hopelessly, her silence confirming his accusations and proving his point for her. He simply nodded as if that was exactly what he expected.


“None? Okay, let’s widen the field a bit. How about any half-breed, whether it be half-giant, goblin, elf or veela?” He paused a moment to watch her. “Any half-breed in any position at the Ministry? No matter how minor…”


She opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it again. There were none. Any who had magical creature blood in their family trees either hid it well or it was so far in the past that it was nearly bred out.


He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “You know, I once overheard a few students talking about what they would do after graduation. Several muggleborn students all agreed that they would either leave the wizarding world altogether or that they would simply leave Great Britain and head to either the United States, Canada or Australia. Apparently they don’t divide their people by blood class and muggleborns are welcomed with open arms. I looked into it. Great Britain looses a lot of good witches and wizards in a steady stream of fleeing people simply because of the institutionalized bigotry, hatred and oppressively unfair laws.”


He shook his head, looking sort of sad. “I feel bad for the non-human magical creatures that can’t escape this hell-hole like the muggleborns and half-bloods can.” He gave her a hard look. “I’ll tell you what. If I somehow manage to survive long enough to gain control of my trust fund, I’m leaving this Merlin forsaken island and I’m never coming back.”


She gaped at him in shock and horror. Of everything he’d said to her, that last one was the worst of all and it truly brought home everything else with a crystal clarity.


Apparently it wasn’t just Harry Potter that had abandoned all hope of justice and equality here in her beloved country. It was the majority of muggleborn or half-blood children. They were making plans to escape. To flee. Flee! That they would even think that way about their homeland spoke loudly of major problems.


Harry reached up with one paw and scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Let’s face it. With Tom’s power back in his control, he’s either going to take over the Ministry blatantly in which case the muggleborns are going to be slaughtered. Or he’ll take over the Ministry behind the scenes, in which case the muggleborns will have what few rights they currently enjoy cut away, be sent off to Azkaban on made-up charges or just killed in carefully constructed accidents.”


He dropped his paw and shrugged. “Or the third option is that Tom will somehow be destroyed and the fact that he is a half-blood will be made public. In which case, the pureblood Death Eaters will be set free and the muggleborns and half-bloods will be persecuted in his name.”


He gestured to the empty room. “So really, it’s a win-win situation for the pureblood families. Hopefully, enough muggleborns and half-bloods will escape before they are slaughtered in the name of pureblood fun.”


Madam Bones sighed and looked down at the parchment and quill. “You paint a very bleak view of our world, Mr. Potter.”


Harry snorted in disgust. “I didn’t make this world, Madam Bones. I’m just trying to survive in it. It’s the inbred cretins steeped in vile Dark magic that created it.”


A loud laugh that seemed more a tame roar echoed out of Harry and his eyes glinted with dark humor. “You want a preview of the future of pureblood wizarding society, go sit down and chat with the new head of the Crabbe family. His father was one of the Death Eater’s killed at the Ministry.” A snort and headshake. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing where centuries of careful breeding of the pure wizarding lines have brought that family.”


One eyebrow raised up in confusion, she flipped through the parchments in her file until she found what she was looking for.


“A Mr. Vincent Crabbe, yes?” Harry nodded, “And what do you think I’ll find?”


Harry shrugged. “That’s simple. Crabbe is a mentally stunted squib. I doubt he can read and he has trouble casting third year spells let alone fourth or fifth year work. Talk to him, test his abilities and then go on and look up his OWLs.”


Harry gave her a deadly serious look.


“I’m willing to bet that his OWL scores will indicate a moderately intelligent young man with skills ranging from average to exceeding expectations in most, if not all classes. A short chat and quick test of his skills will prove otherwise. He’s a moron whose magic is barely above a squib level.”


A brief shrug. “He’s probably got a cousin somewhere who is lined up to be an advisor and a betrothed girl with moderate brains set up to keep him from picking his nose in public.”


She gave him an equally hard look. “If he’s so poorly suited, what is he doing in Hogwarts at all?”


Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “What part of heir to a wealthy pureblood family escapes you?”


Madam Bones pinched the bridge of her nose. This interview was going nowhere. Harry was far too upset to get anything out of him but bitter anger and rhetoric against the pureblood families. She figured that it would be better to interview the other children and then come back to him at a later time. That way she would know what questions to ask and he would have time to calm himself.


Her only other option was to give him veritaserum and just ask a list of questions and hope she hit the right ones. That, of course, would only estrange him more. This whole incident was enough of a mess as it was with dead purebloods everywhere, eyewitness sightings of a resurrected Dark Lord, injured children and proof of Ministry corruption pouring out of the woodwork.


It left a bad taste in her mouth to admit, even to herself, that if the ones who had died had been muggleborn than this whole thing would be easier to deal with. In fact, it would have probably been swept under the rug and manifested as nothing more than nasty rumors. Dead purebloods, on the other hand, sparked fear and anger in the Wizengamot members and they were demanding answers to questions that otherwise would never have been asked.


She sighed heavily. No wonder children preparing for their OWLs were already making plans to leave Great Britain.

   
5 – Return to Gryffindor


Madam Bones escorted him back to the hallway with a warning that she would speak to him again at a later date. They found Professor McGonagall and Neville Longbottom waiting for them by the door. He left the room even as Neville shuffled his way in. McGonagall nodded once to the Director of the DMLE and then turned on her heel.


“Come along, Mr. Potter.”


Pulling his school robe hood up over his head as far as it would go in an effort to hide his leonine face as much as possible, Harry trotted after her.


“So, was your discussion with Madam Bones profitable?”


Harry shrugged. “Well, she didn’t arrest me, torture me or have me Kissed by Dementors, so it went better than I expected.”


McGonagall’s lips pursed tightly at that and she gave him a very stern look.


“Not all Ministry workers are hidden Death Eaters, Mr. Potter.”


Harry huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Sirius once told me that the world wasn’t divided into good people and Death Eaters.” He shook his head at the memory. “His point was that people could be just as evil and twisted without a Dark Mark on their arm.”


The Professors lips twisted into a look of extreme disapproval, but as with every other time Harry brought up a subject she didn’t wish to discuss, she simply changed the subject to something more pleasant.


“I’ve got something for you.” She reached into the voluminous sleeve of her robe and pulled out a small brown leather covered book. “This is a volume on the animagus transfiguration. While it doesn’t go into detail on the exact steps necessary, it does focus heavily on the magical theory behind it.”


She handed him the book and he took it carefully with his large paws. Taking care not to catch his claws on it, he slid it into his robe pocket.


“Thank you, Professor.”


McGonagall nodded and folded her hands in front of herself as they continued to walk. “I would like you to look through it. Review the material as best you can. I’ll expect you to study it in thorough detail eventually, but right at first you need to get a general overview.”


He nodded seriously at her.


In truth, though he thought it might be interesting to know, he tended to believe that Dumbledore had the right of it and that he was stuck like this. After all, he was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, and bad things always happened to him.


“After lunch, I wish you to come to see me in my office. I don’t have any classes at that time, so I will start on the first lesson with you.”


“Yes Professor.”


She nodded silently. After a few more steps she spoke again, softly this time.


“Mr. Potter, Harry…I’ve spoken with your Housemates in general terms about what happened. I simply told them that several students were injured while out of bounds. That Ms Granger and Mr. Weasley were in the hospital wing with a restricted visitors list.”


She paused while they jogged down a flight of stairs and worked their way down another hallway. Finally, she sighed and turned her head slightly towards him.


“I told them that someone had tried to force you into your animagus form, but that something went wrong. They know that you are stuck, but that we are all working to fix the problem.”


Her voice was apologetic. “You should expect to face stares and whispers of the curious, but I didn’t feel it was fair to you to send you to the tower without any warning.”


“It wouldn’t do to have brave Gryffindors,” her tone was now wry, “run screaming from a lion walking upright on its hind legs while waving a wand at them.”


Harry huffed a growling rumble of laughter. That would be funny in an ironic way, seeing as how the Gryffindor House animal was a roaring lion balanced on its hind legs.


They made their way up several flights of stairs, the curious students scattered by the fierce scowl McGonagall turned their way. His ears twitched and swiveled about his head to catch the stray whispers with a seeming mind of their own. He heard his name several times and sighed. He figured that by the time lunch rolled around the entire school would know all about his new freakishness.


All too soon and paradoxly not soon enough, they were at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Professor McGonagall spared him a brief look and then whispered the password. The painting swung aside and she walked in. After a brief moment to brace himself for anything, Harry followed her into the Gryffindor common room.


For a brief moment the soft rumbling sound of dozens of voices all chatting and laughing, washed over him. Then slowly the noise began to die out in little spurts here and there as they caught the attention of various groups of teens. Then, as if some signal had been given, all the sound stopped and every head turned to face them. Knowing it was now or never, but feeling extremely self-conscious, Harry took a single step forward and away from Professor McGonagall. Then, standing alone, he lowered his hood and stood before his peers awaiting judgment.


The entire room seemed to gasp in surprise. Everyone simply stared at him and he stared back, feeling oddly on display and not very happy at all. He could practically hear his Uncles’ voice yelling the word ‘Freak!’ in his mind.


“Oh Merlin!” a little firstie cooed to her pig-tail wearing friend, “He’s beautiful!”


Once again, Harry was glad that his fur hid his blush. In any case, that seemed to be the cue for everyone else in the common room to move and make noise again. Grins burst out across faces and Dean Thomas stood up, rising head and shoulders above most of the crowd.


“Harry! Over here, mate!”


 He turned a grateful look over at Professor McGonagall. Her lips turned up briefly in a tiny smile, before she nodded sharply and turned to go. “I will see you later after lunch, Mr. Potter.”


“Of course, Professor.”


Then she was leaving and he was slowly making his way through the crowd. A few of the braver ones reached out and ran gentle fingers along the length of his tail. It didn’t hurt. In fact it sorta felt good. Strange though, to think he was being petted and in such a sensitive and awkward place. He was feeling kinda protective of his tail, and that was such an odd thought all on its own.


Eventually the crowd spilled him out into a clear spot by the chairs and table that Dean and Seamus favored. As usual, Lavender and Parvati were with the two boys. All four of them grinned at him even with curiosity and confusion shining in their eyes.


Seamus tilted his head and looked him over, his eyebrows going up and down as he noticed various things. “All things considered, it’s not so bad. At least you can talk and walk about okay. We were worried that you wouldn’t be able to function stuck halfway through the transfiguration. McGonagall didn’t give us many details.”


Harry nodded. “Yeah. My balance is a little off, so walking is strange. I either have to concentrate on every step, or not think at all and just go with the flow. Otherwise I end up tripping myself.”


“So,” Dean began, “what really happened? All McGonagall really told us was that you and some friends left the castle and ended up in a bit of a fight with some Death Eaters. Some of you were hurt and some of the Death Eaters had been captured. The Daily Prophet, however, has been going nuts. Yesterday they said that You-Know-Who attacked the Ministry with a band of Death Eaters and that you and Dumbledore stopped him. Today, they said that Minister Fudge had been arrested as a secret Death Eater and that the DMLE was starting massive investigations into the whole mess.”


Lavender and Parvati’s grins faded and they exchanged glances. “We were told that Hermione was hurt badly, but that we weren’t allowed to go visit her.” Lavender’s voice was at once concerned and peeved. “That’s not right. We’ve been her roommates for five years now. We want to see her and wish her well.”


“Hermione did get hurt. Pretty badly too, though she’s doing better now.” Harry turned his head to look her in the eye. “I think that the list is restricted because of Ron, though.”


“Ron!?” Seamus’ voice cut across the room.


“Shhh!” Harry waved him back with one paw. “Yeah. Ron got hurt the worst.”


His ears drooped at bit and he sat down in one of the chairs, absentmindedly reaching back to lift his tail out of the way.


“Ron got hit by some strange creature that the Ministry had rescued from some Dark Lord ages and ages ago. No one is sure what these things are, but they have to live in this green liquid stuff or they die. They have some sort of telepathy, but they don’t really think the way humans do, so it’s hard to communicate with them.”


Lavender and Parvati each scooted their chairs closer to him, one on either side. Both girls reached out a hand and began to pet at his furry mane behind his head. Harry didn’t really notice it enough to be embarrassed, but it did soothe and comfort him as he leaned into their soft touches.


“When the…brain thing…got out of its liquid and onto Ron, it started to die. We think that it knew it was dying and so it tried to push all of its knowledge into Ron. He’s…” Harry’s voice caught for a moment, “horrifically scarred all over and he’s still unconscious. Occasionally he starts to scream out loud and it’s terrible to hear.”


Harry looked over at Lavender. “That’s probably why the list of visitors is so restricted.”


“And Hermione?” Parvati’s voice was a whisper.


Harry shrugged. “She was hit in the chest by a curse. Dolohov, the Death Eater that cast it, was silenced at the time so the curse was less than half power. That’s the only thing that saved her life. Even still, it did a lot of damage to her internal organs.”


He gestured to his own chest the area she had been hit. “I’m not sure of the details, but I guess that it was her lungs and heart that took the worst of the blast. They were able to fix almost all of the damage, but she now has a condition in her lungs that muggles call asthma. I’m not sure what it’s called in the Wizarding World.”


Dean nodded. “That’s not too bad when you consider what would have happened if that curse hit full power. And asthma can be treated and usually controlled fairly easily. I have a cousin that has asthma. She has to take her medicine everyday and there are some things she can’t do or she’ll have an attack, but for the most part it doesn’t really bother her now that it’s controlled.”


“Attack?” Parvati sounded confused.


Seamus tapped his own chest with a fist. “Asthma is in the lungs and they call it an attack when a person with asthma suddenly has trouble breathing.”


“Trouble breathing?” She sounded aghast.


Harry nodded. “I’ve heard of it before, but I never really knew anyone that had it very well. I know that some things can trigger an attack, but not what those things are.”


“Depends on the person, I think.” Dean said. “My cousin loves football, but can’t really play. Running about can trigger an attack. She’s also sensitive to smoke or strong smelling things that are sprayed. She can’t wear perfume or anything like that, so she uses scented lotion instead.”


“Poor Hermione!” Lavender grimaced. “We’ll have to help her find new products to use if the ones she has now bother her too badly.” She blinked and leaned around Harry to look at Parvati. “We might need to change our stuff too!”


Harry didn’t know enough about any of that to be able to offer advice, and even Dean knowing a bit about asthma wouldn’t be any help with the girlie stuff. Instead, he continued to tell them about what he did know.


“Neville’s nose was broken and so was Ginny’s ankle. Both of them are fine now though.” Harry tilted his head sideways in thought. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with Luna. She’s still in the infirmary, but I’m not sure why.”


Dean and Seamus exchanged odd looks. “Luna Lovegood?”


Harry nodded.


“Well,” Seamus’ voice was almost apologetic. “She’s a bit…strange. Maybe they think she banged her head or something.”


Harry wanted to defend her. She had bravely insisted on going to the Ministry to support him and she had saved each of them at one point or another. Still, Luna was…well, Luna. No one really understood her and lots of people made fun of her because of that. Seamus didn’t sound mean or rude, so he let it go.


“Maybe…I think it’s something else, though.”


He paused in thought for a moment and leaned back into the touch of the two girls. Lavender was running her fingers through the shaggy length of his mane while Parvati was gently rubbing her hand over his one furry ear. He pressed his head into her soft touch and considered everything.


He hadn’t seen Ginny since yesterday, but he knew that her ankle was fixed. Neville was fine and even Hermione seemed better today. It had been good to see both her and Luna seeming much more active and they even smiled a bit. It was at his expense, true, but that was worth it to see them feeling better.


A low rumbling sound rolled around him and he vaguely wondered about it before his mind slid back to Hermione. Her voice had sounded a lot better this morning. It had still been a breathy whisper, but she hadn’t broken off in a fit of coughing, and that was a good thing. Hopefully, it would continue to improve and she would be back to sounding normal.


Lavender and Parvati started giggling softly and he was aware that others were staring, but he ignored that and instead looked over at Dean and Seamus. Seamus’ eyebrows were in his hairline and Dean’s face of a picture of incredulity. He leaned even further into Parvati’s touch and then frowned as the rumbling sound grew louder. Seamus’ mouth quirked into a lopsided grin and Dean lost control and burst out laughing.


He must have looked confused because a giggling Lavender poked him lightly in the ribs and gasped out, “Harry! You’re purring!”


Harry didn’t even have time to gape properly before she pointed to the floor, “Look!”


Turning to look, he noticed that practically every cat and kneazle in Gryffindor had made their way over to him and were milling about his feet and legs, all of them purring loudly at him. Crookshanks took the opportunity to jump into his lap and claim the choice spot.


Harry tilted his head down just as Crookshanks looked up. They touched noses briefly and then Hermione’s half-kneazle cat purred loudly at him. Instinctively, Harry purred back.


That was too much for Seamus and he burst out laughing too. He fell back against Dean and the two boys tumbled to the floor in a pile of limbs. Dean’s muttered, “King of beasts, indeed,” only made things worse.


Flash! Pop!


Blinking away the bright sparks of light dancing before his eyes, Harry turned his head to see a wildly grinning Colin start to inch away from them. With a snarl of annoyance, Harry stretched out one massive paw and growled, “ACCIO CAMERA!”


Colin’s camera ripped out of the boy’s hands and flew through the air to land with a thunk into Harry’s paw.


“Hey!”


Colin had stepped forward and reached out to grab his camera, but Harry pulled it away and growled loudly in the boy’s face. Colin went pale and scrambled back.


“For four years I have put up with this crap! Four!” Gently shaking his head to disengage the girl’s hands, Harry stood up and stalked over to the cringing fourth year. “Everywhere I turn, there you are! Asking your stupid and insensitive questions, shoving this damn camera in my face and snapping pictures to sell to the vultures at the Daily Prophet so that they can sell more lies about me!”


Harry tossed the camera up into the air, whipped out his wand and took quick aim, “DIFFINDO!” The camera blasted into three separate parts.


“Well, no more!” He poked the boy in the chest and ignored the fact that he looked ready to cry. “I am not your toy! I am not your pet! I am not some Greek hero for you to worship! I am just a teenage boy and I am sick and tired of you following me around snapping pictures and demanding to know the details of my life. It’s my life, not some storybook. I don’t belong to you, or your friends, or the newspapers, or the Ministry, or even the public masses.”


Colin cringed before him and then dropped to the ground to try and gather the pieces of his camera. He turned wet and tragic eyes up at Harry. “But I’m your biggest fan! How could you?”


“That’s just it, Colin.” Harry growled out and began to stalk back and forth in front of him. “I don’t want fans. I don’t want to be stalked through the hallways. I don’t want people pointing at me and whispering about me. I don’t want to read lies about myself in the paper. I don’t want people to think that just because they know my name that they can tell me what to do and think.”


Harry stopped pacing and growled down at the boy, “How would you like it if I sent an anonymous note to the Daily Prophet that you were torturing first years and recruiting second and third years to be your enforcers. That you walked about muttering how you were going to kill off the oppressive purebloods so that the muggleborns could rule the Wizarding World. That you used your camera to take pictures of your victims so that you could reminisce over your favorite punishments for little firsties.”


“But, but, but,” Colin sputtered. “That’s not true!”


Harry tilted his head and just looked at the boy for a moment. “What in the name of Merlin do you think truth has to do with anything?” He gestured to the common room. “Both you and I know that’s not true and so does everyone here. That won’t stop more than half of them from believing the paper and convincing themselves that they just missed all the signs. The other three houses will treat you as a Dark Lord and won’t care if it’s true or not. The public will all believe and the majority of them will scream for your arrest.”


He shook his head and paced back to his chair, calling over his shoulder. “It’s doesn’t matter that there is no proof, it doesn’t matter that no first year will come forward and say that you did it. No one will think to check the facts. It’s juicy gossip material, that’s what matters. The fact that you are muggleborn will ensure that no one will stop the Ministry from having you Kissed, proof or not.”


Harry sat down and a heart-broken Colin trembled on the floor. “But that’s not fair,” he wailed.


Harry shrugged and leaned back. “Welcome to my world.” He gestured around the room. “Being persecuted unfairly for the amusement of others is what it means to be a hero to the Wizarding World.”


Colin looked down to the mangled mess in his hands and whispered, “Not all of us thought bad of you Harry.”


Harry shook his head. “Colin…you read an untrue account of my early life out of a book, decided I was a hero and set about stalking me and though you didn’t mean too, you’ve periodically embarrassed me, harassed me, cornered me and set me up for problems with other people. You’ve taken tons of pictures of me over the years and sent them off to magazines and newspapers and they’ve used them to try and legitimize all the lies they’ve told about me.”


“You’ve never meant to hurt me, but you have.”


Harry rubbed one paw along the bridge of his muzzle. “I’m tired of having to hide from you just to get a bit of peace. It’s not fair to me. And right now, any pictures you take will have hordes of wizards and witches riled up about things that are none of their business.”


Harry snorted in derision and looked directly at Colin. “With my luck, the small minded bigots that make up the general wizarding population will claim I’m a dangerous magical creature and demand my execution.”


Colin looked aghast. “They wouldn’t! You’re…you’re…you’re Harry Potter! They can’t do that to you!”


“Grow up, Colin!” Harry growled. “You’re the only person who thinks that being Harry Potter is a good thing. That’s the exact reason they’d do it. What better gossip than to talk about how Harry Potter turned into a vicious animal that needed to be slaughtered?”


Harry turned his head away even as Lavender and Parvati both leaned into him, petting his fur and making shushing noises at him. He was vaguely aware of Seamus getting up and moving over to Colin.


“Why don’t you bugger off for a bit, Colin. Let Harry calm down for a while and keep your cameras out of his face, yeah?” He turned the boy towards the stairs leading up the boys dorm and gave him a light push. “Maybe you should spend a bit of time thinking about Harry’s life from his point of view instead of how cool you think it is to know him, hmmm?”


Colin wandered off and Seamus came back over and sat down. He paused a moment and then gave Harry an intense look.


“Okay there mate?”


Harry nodded absently and sighed. Crookshanks jumped back up into his lap and he began to pet the cat even as the girls continued to pet him. He slowly calmed down.


“You laid into him pretty hard, Harry.”


He looked up into Dean’s concerned face.


“You’re not normally that upfront with him when he annoys the hell out of you. Usually you just duck out of his line of sight and disappear somewhere.”


“True.” Harry sighed again. “But I meant it when I said that it’s not fair to me. I really am tired of being chased out of the common room or the Great Hall because Colin refuses to back off. It was bad enough when he was a little firstie, but it hasn’t stopped. It’s like this massive joke to everyone. People are like, hey look at Colin. He’s cornered Harry good this time, ha ha ha.”


He shrugged and shook his head. “Real funny, except I’m the one putting up with all the; hi Harry, did you see that Harry, what do you think Harry, flash pop here’s another picture Harry, can I get you something, do something, be in the way Harry, flash pop another picture Harry, can I kiss your ass or suck your dick Harry.”


Lavender and Parvati giggled and Dean smirked wildly. Seamus just shook his head, “Yeah. I thought Ron was going to kill the little shite that time he snuck his camera into the loo and got the picture of you sitting on the can.”


Lavender stilled and turned to look at him. “Is he serious? Did Colin really take a picture of you using the loo?” She and Parvati exchanged glances, neither of them laughing anymore.


“Yeah,” Harry growled. “He’s very serious. And yeah, Ron hexed him so hard he was in the infirmary for two days.”


Harry looked over at the boys, “That was what...two years ago?”


They both nodded.


“And you’ve been putting up with that kind of thing for four years?”


Harry shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, but you all knew that.”


Lavender shook her head. “No. I never knew that Colin took it that far. That’s just way out of line. Trapping you in the corner of the common room to babble at you and his desperate flirting with you in the hallways is funny. His completely invading your privacy and selling pictures of you to your enemies is another thing entirely.”


Harry felt self-conscious and embarrassed, but tried to ignore it and enjoy the soft petting instead. “Well, hopefully it’ll stop now.”


Before Lavender could comment, Ginny Weasley walked over to the group and offered up a smile that was more grimace than good cheer. Dean stood up and reached out with one of his long arms to snag her by her jumper and pull her into a strong hug. He pressed a soft kiss into the top of her head even as she wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed back.


“Hey. You guys ready for lunch?”


Seamus and the girls stood up and nodded, but Harry hesitated. He wasn’t very good at eating in his new form yet and he didn’t want to humiliate himself any more than he already was.


“Harry?” Ginny’s voice was hesitant. “Are you coming…or would you rather we bring something back for you?”


Sighing, Harry pushed himself to his feet. “No. No, I’ll come with you. Just don’t expect me to eat much.” His fur hid his blush. “I’m still not too good with forks yet.”

  
6 – The Great Hall


Walking through the hallways had gotten Harry more than a few stares and whispers followed him everywhere. Even with his robe hood up and Lavender and Parvati on either side of him, not to mention Dean, Ginny and Seamus walking out in front, Harry found himself the absolute center of everyone’s attention.


While passing by the Charms corridor, he’d overheard a couple first year Ravenclaws trying to talk one of their friends into dashing up behind him and yanking on his tail. The very idea of it made him want to clutch his extra limb protectively and growl with lots of teeth showing. Instead he just turned his head to stare at them as they walked past.


“Don’t even think about it,” he growled.


The firsties shivered and one yelped and they all ran off the other way laughing and teasing the boy who’d suggested it. Parvati watched them go and then turned a curious look at him.


“They wanted to pull my tail and see what I’d do.”


One of her hands flashed to her mouth to hide her smile as she tried to stifle a giggle. Seamus turned his head to look over his shoulder, a smirk on his face.


“I dare say that yankin’ your tail would make you an angry kitty-cat.” He leaned down a little and pretended to whisper at Ginny in a voice that carried easily. “Might even make him cough up a hair-ball, yeah?”


Ginny grinned at him, but it was a sad grin as if her heart really wasn’t in it. Harry knew she was worried about Ron. He was too. The biggest worry that everyone had, and one that he hadn’t mentioned to Dean and Seamus, was that no one knew what state Ron’s mind would be in when he eventually woke up.


That brain thing had tried to shove a lot of information into his head. If that wasn’t bad enough, the people that studied and cared for the creatures considered them to be insane. So now Ron had the thoughts of an insane creature crowded into his head. No one was sure if the fact he had been under the influence of a mind-altering spell would have insulated him from their effect or if it would have magnified it. Ron could wake up and be fine, or he could wake up and be a raving lunatic.


The group of Gryffindors just stepped through the doors to the Great Hall when they were accosted by Draco Malfoy. The newest Lord of House Malfoy looked strained. His pale eyes were bloodshot and bruised underneath as if he’d either missed a lot of sleep or had spent a long time crying. His face was paler than usual and his hair was missing its signature coating of gel, leaving it to hang in thin wispy tangles about his face.


When the blond Slytherin saw them, his face transformed from one of shocked tragedy to one of rage and hate. Sadly, it seemed to fit easily on his features, more so than any smile ever had. Snarling, Draco stormed over to them with his bodyguards right behind.


“Out of my way, blood traitor slag!” he hissed even as he reached out and shoved Ginny to the floor.


With twin gasps, Lavender and Parvati rushed over to her and helped her to her feet. Harry didn’t even hesitate; he stepped over Ginny to stand between Dean and Seamus. Face to face with Draco Malfoy, he curled up his lip over his fangs and growled low in his chest. For a brief second, Draco seemed to waiver, but then he straightened his spine and sneered.


“Well, well, well. Looking more freakishly Gryffindor than usually Potty.” His eyes shifted to aim his glare at all of them one at a time before shifting back to rest on an irritated and growling half-lion. “While I would normally love to spend my time laughing in your fur covered face, I have something more important to talk about.”


“Yeah. An apology is what you’ll be saying you twisted little nancy-boy, or I’ll twist your head off that skinny neck of yours!” Dean, while far and away the tallest boy in their year, was not normally imposing or intimidating in any way. That was due to the fact that he was also the easiest to get along with because of his friendly personality and laid back nature. Right now, however, he was very angry.


Malfoy affected a surprised look that quickly shifted back into hatred and rage.


“An apology? I think not.” With a sniff, he dismissed Dean’s presence and turned to face Harry. “I just want to know which one of you did it. Which one of you muggle lovers killed my father!”


That last was shouted and whoever in the Great Hall hadn’t been watching before were now.


Ginny, who had made it back to her feet and was watching from between Harry and Dean’s shoulders snorted in disdain. “Who cares?”


Draco’s eyes narrowed down to slits as his head whipped around to face her. “What did you say, slag?”


Ginny smirked cruelly. “I said, who cares. After all, your father was nothing more than a pathetic Death Eater that cared more about kneeling before a twisted madman and kissing his robes than he ever cared about you or your drunk of a mother.”


She shrugged and affected a disdainful air of disinterest. “The only good Death Eater is a dead one. It’s just a pity that some of those vermin survived.”


With a shriek of mindless anger, Draco reached for his wand.


Harry nudged Ginny behind Dean and leaned forward so that his leonine face was only inches from Draco’s. Then he opened his mouth and roared out all of his anger, frustration and hate. Magic poured from Harry in tune with his ear shattering roar, creating a visual aura that shimmered around his body.


The boy’s blond hair whipped back from his face and dust rained down from the rafters. Students all around the Great Hall cringed back in fear. Goyle and Crabbe both turned tail and ran off. Draco’s face went sheet white as he trembled before the awesome fury of a magic welding lion even as a puddle of urine formed under his robes and surrounded his feet.


Harry’s roar ended in stunned silence even as his magic slowly pulled back into his body. He sniffed once and then wrinkled up his sensitive nose before pointedly looking down at the puddle of urine and snorting in amusement.


Turning and stalking off Harry called over his shoulder, “Someone clean up that mess. It’s reeks of fear and inferiority.”


Neville, who had arrived unnoticed during the confrontation, gently pushed himself forward and casually snagged Dean’s wand out of his hand. “Oh, please. Allow me.”


Then, with a wide grin, he pointed the borrowed wand directly in Draco Malfoy’s face and cast “SCOURGIFY!” Magic burst out of Dean’s wand and swirled around Draco’s head and face before slowly dissipating. When it was gone, the newest Lord of House Malfoy was left standing there in a puddle of his own urine with his blond hair standing on end in a tangled mess of static.


Dean took back his wand with a grin, “I think you missed, mate?”


Neville shook his head. “Naw, I hit him exactly where I was aiming.”


Dean nodded sagely and then looked back at the Slytherin. He tilted his head to the side and studied him for a brief moment before observing, “Looks a bit like a demented dandelion, don’t he?”


Ginny didn’t even try to hold in the snort of laughter that caused and leaned forward to hug Dean. That, of course, set off a bunch of sniggers, chuckles and laughter at the blond boy’s expense. It was mostly Gryffs and Puffs, but a few Claws joined in.


Turning a bright red, Draco hissed out, “I’ll get you for this!” before he turned and ran from the Great Hall.


It took a bit for everyone to calm down and arrange themselves at the Gryffindor table. Harry found himself bracketed by Neville and Parvati with Ginny across from him bracketed by Dean and Seamus. Lavender sat next to Seamus.


Harry looked up from his still empty plate and looked across at Ginny. “Are you okay? Malfoy shoved you pretty hard. Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”


Ginny shook her head even as her smile faded at mention of the infirmary. “No. I’m okay. I’m more upset about being called a slag, but watching him soil himself in public makes up for that nicely.”


Harry huffed a bit of sound that was half laugh and half growl. “Just be glad that you can’t smell it like I can.” He snorted air out of his nose in an attempt to clear it of the stench.


“Bad, mate?”


Silently, Harry nodded at Seamus.


With a grin, Seamus twisted in his seat and aimed his wand. “SCOURGIFY!” The puddle was cleaned away in a swirl of magic. The scent was still in the air, but nowhere near as strong.


“Thanks, mate.” His lip curled up to expose one fang. “I wasn’t kidding when I said he reeked of fear.”


Lunch appeared on the table then and everyone began to load up their plates except for Harry. He looked around, but he didn’t see anything that he thought he could actually eat without making a mess of himself. The peas, green beans and applesauce didn’t even seem appealing. The potatoes smelled good and the baked chicken smelled divine. He leaned forward and sniffed at it deeply, rumbling a purr in his chest which quickly turned into a sort of whine once he realized that he had no clue how to eat it.


“What?”


Harry turned to Neville, blushing under his fur.


“You saw me at breakfast, mate. What do you think?”


Neville blinked at him a few times and then his expression was the picture of sudden understanding. “Oh…”


“What?”


Harry glanced over at Ginny’s curious face and then frowned down at his empty plate.


“Harry can’t eat like that.” Neville supplied. “At least, not easily. His whole mouth is shaped different as well as his hands. He hasn’t quite worked out how to do it without…well, without making a mess of it.”


Finding himself once more grateful that his fur hid his blushing, he looked down at his empty plate. Therefore, he was startled when Parvati plopped a sandwich in front of him. He looked over at her, confused.


“It’s just some chicken meat tucked into a roll I split open.” She gestured to the empty chicken bone on her plate and shrugged. “It might be easier to hold than a fork.”


“Thanks.”


He attempted to pick it up, but was waved away by Ginny right before she leaned back and gestured down the table. “Hey! Angelina! Come here and bring the girls.”


Dean shrugged at Harry and whispered, “Don’t ask me. I only date her; I don’t claim to understand her.”


Harry, Seamus and Neville chuckled even as Dean jumped and reached down to clutch at his leg. “Ow!”


The three Gryffindor chasers made their way down the table and then stopped to stare at Harry until Alicia grinned and waved her hand at him, “You do know that Quidditch season is over so you can’t be the team mascot, right Harry?”


Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, very funny.” He ignored his friend’s sniggering around him.


Smirking, Ginny looked up at her team captain. “Actually, Angelina, I was hoping that one of you could conjure up a bib for Harry here. He’s having a bit of trouble adjusting to eating with a lion’s mouth and he’s afraid that he’ll make a mess if he tries.”


Everyone turned to look at him, evil grins of amusement firmly in place. Harry raised one paw and removed his modified glasses even as he groaned in embarrassment. “Oh, Godric have mercy.” The evil grins grew larger.


With a smirk, Angelina pulled her wand and waved it in a very complex motion and whispered under her breath. Harry could feel a large piece of plastic-like sheeting slide across his chest and around his neck. His friends began to snicker and chuckle. With a resigned sigh, Harry put his glasses back on and looked down.


It was shaped just like a babies bib, only sized to his transfigured form. The top two-thirds appeared to be a blue sky with fluffy white clouds moving about. The bottom one-third had long grass that waved in the imaginary wind. A small golden snitch fluttered about the air. When it dipped down towards the grass, a large cartoonish lion leapt out of the grass and snatched the snitch out of the air and then roared in triumph. Everyone except Harry laughed.


“Oh, yes. Very funny indeed.”


Everyone grinned at him and Katie; the sixth year girl’s Prefect, patted Angelina on the arm, “Two points to Gryffindor for an excellent conjuration with animation and two points for helping out a housemate in need.”


Angelina grinned even wider. “Thanks!”


Harry watched as the cartoon lion released the snitch and it began to flutter about the clouds once more before looking up and nodding. “And thanks Angelina. As much as I hate to admit it, I really do need it.”


“No problem Harry. Glad to help…” She smirked. “Even if you aren’t the team mascot.” With that, she twirled around and walked back to her seat with Katie and Alicia following, their peals of ringing laughter echoing behind them. Harry just sighed.


His friends were still snickering, but that chicken sandwich smelled good. Real good. His stomach rumbled in response. Sighing again, Harry delicately picked up the sandwich with his huge paw-like hand and tried hard to aim for his altered mouth. Somehow, it managed to taste even better than it smelled.


He was still messy though. He couldn’t quite figure out how to keep all the food in his mouth while he chewed. Parvati eyed him for a moment, sighed and shook her head, then put together two more sandwiches and stuck them on his plate.


“Thank you.”


She smiled up at him. “You’re welcome Harry. And don’t worry so much about the mechanics of it. You’ll either get fixed before you know it or you’ll figure it out.”


Harry rather hoped for the former, but he suspected it would be the later. Voldemort had done something to him when he tried to possess him. He wasn’t sure what exactly the evil Sorcerer had done, but Harry felt certain that was the reason he couldn’t be shifted back into a fully human body.


Harry had finished the other two sandwiches and was contemplating the roast potatoes when Professor McGonagall strode up, her mouth twisted down into a deep frown. She stopped across from Harry and glared at him.


“Mr. Potter. I’m very disappointed in you. Couldn’t you have just left well enough alone? Did you have to start a confrontation with Mr. Malfoy?”


Everyone gaped at her in astonishment except for Harry who just snarled.


“Why no Professor, no one was hurt by the twisted children of the Death Eaters that were killed or captured the other night.” He paused pointedly and tilted his head. “Except for Ginny. She insists that it isn’t too bad and preferred to eat lunch with us rather than go to the infirmary. Thank you for asking.”


Professor McGonagall blinked and took a tiny step back.


“What is that supposed to mean?”


Dean, whose arm had come up to wrap around Ginny’s shoulders shook his head. “It means that Malfoy lied to you Professor. Like always.”


One of McGonagall’s eyebrows rose up over the rim of her glasses. “And just how did he lie to me, Mr. Thomas?”


“Well,” Dean shifted on his seat a bit. “If he said Harry started a fight, then he lied. We all came into the Great Hall in a group, so we were all here to see it. Malfoy stormed up to Ginny, called her a blood-traitor slag and shoved her to the ground.”


Everyone at the Gryffindor table and many at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables were nodding in agreement.


“Then he started demanding she tell him who killed the Death Eater he calls father. Then we,” he pointed at himself, Harry and the Seamus, “stepped over her and got between them so Malfoy couldn’t hex her and told him that it didn’t matter who had done it since Death Eaters don’t count and that he should just go away. He didn’t, Harry growled and Malfoy wet his pants all over the floor.”


Professor McGonagall sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Then she adjusted her glasses and lowered her hand to clasp it together with her other one in front of her.


“You all must realize Mr. Malfoy is extremely distraught. He just lost his father and has no been himself lately.”


Harry snorted. “Naw, that was typical behavior for him. Arrogant, rude, nasty, bullying, and down right threatening.” Harry huffed a laugh. “The ferret has been threatening to have Hermione killed for being a ‘filthy mudblood’ since our second year. We’re used to it.”


“Besides,” Ginny’s tone had undertones of anger and hurt, “you know us blood-traitor slags; we don’t do sympathy for Death Eaters or their heirs.”


Professor McGonagall stared at Ginny for a moment, a pained expression on her face. Then she took a deep breath and stood up a bit straighter.


“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear that kind of language.” She glared at Ginny and then at Harry. “From either of you. Just try your best to avoid Mr. Malfoy or his friends for the time being. Hopefully tensions will ease between the Houses in a few days.”


None of the children looked like they agreed with that sentiment, but no one argued. She turned a gimlet eye on Harry.


“I still expect to see you in my office after lunch.”


“Yes Professor.”


With that she turned and stalked off to the High Table where the other teachers were sitting. Only the Headmaster and Snape were missing.


“You know…” Ginny’s voice was a soft murmur. “It would be nice if everyone didn’t always assume that it was the Gryffindor that started any confrontation with the Slytherins.”


Everyone nodded in agreement and went back to eating. Harry finally gave in and attempted to spear a potato. It wasn’t working too well since he had trouble holding his fork. He fumbled it and dropped it into the potato bowl. Harry sighed and blushed fiercely under his fur.


Neville just calmly reached out and plucked it up again. He held it out towards Seamus. “Hey mate, hit this with a bit of transfiguration for us, will ya? Harry needs the handle to be a bit thicker so his paws can grasp it better.”


Seamus shrugged, pulled out his wand and quickly thickened the handle end of the fork as well as lengthening the tongs. “Try that, Harry.”


Neville handed the fork to Harry and he found it much easier to hold. Still not perfect, as his newly stubby and thickened fingers didn’t really want to bend much. He wasn’t going to complain though, one; it never worked and two; it really was much better.


“Thanks, Seamus. I appreciate it.”


Harry scooped a few potatoes and a slab of pork onto his plate. He avoided the peas and green beans. The potatoes were very good, but the roast pork was divine. The taste just exploded over his tongue and filled him with content happiness. It was even better than the chicken, if that’s believable. If ever there was a more perfect tasting food in all the world, Harry had never had it.


He didn’t even notice that he’d started purring as he reached out with one paw to pull the entire pork platter towards him. When Dean tried to snag a piece, Harry slapped away his hand and growled at him lightly. Then he pulled the platter in front of him and began purring again even as he picked up another slab of meat and popped it into his mouth.


Snickering and giggling caught his attention and he looked up to see an astonished expression on Dean’s face while the rest of his friends chortled at him in glee.


“What?”


It was Dean who answered with an indignant, “Who taught you to eat like a lifer?”


Harry looked down to see that he had one arm stretched out over the table and wrapped protectively around the edge of the roast pork platter even as he was hunched over it slightly and drooling everywhere. That was also when he realized that he was half purring in pleasure and half growling in warning. He concentrated on making the sounds rumbling out of his chest stop.


“Um…”


Ginny snorted. “Don’t worry Harry. No one is going to steal your lunch. You go ahead and enjoy it all you want, but there’s no need to defend it. At least, not against Dean.”


“Yeah,” Neville chuckled. “He’s learned his lesson, he has.”


Lavender leaned out around Seamus, a grin on her face. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that maybe your transformation is more than physical. I think you’ve got some cat traits mixed into your personality now.”


Neville snorted. “I’m willing to bet that you’re right. After all,” he grinned and waved a hand through the air. “Water is very very wet.”


Everyone looked confused except for Harry who rolled his eyes.


“That’s so not my fault. Just the thought of all that water trickling through my fur…” he trailed off and gave a good hard shudder. “Besides, the cleaning charm worked well enough after we learned the right one for hair and fur.”


Ginny giggled. “Let me get this right. You’ll face down giant basilisks, evil potion Professors, Death Eaters and even the Dark Lord, but you are afraid of a simple shower?”


“You don’t understand,” Harry’s voice was nearly a whine. “I tried. I did! It’s just…the shower was on and there was all this water just streaming everywhere and it was all…all…”


“Wet?” Neville interjected.


“Yes! Exactly!”


Just then, the cartoon lion on his bib leaped up out of the grass and caught the snitch with a roar. Everyone burst out laughing.

 
7 – The Meeting


A half hour later found Harry outside Professor McGonagall’s office door waiting for her to show up. He stood there leaning against her door and he could feel the tufted end of his long tail periodically smack against the solid wood. It was mildly embarrassing, but he was too agitated to stop his tail from swishing back and forth.


“Harry?”


Turning his head, Harry peered through his glasses to see three Gryffindor first year girls staring at him with mild awe. He thought that the one in the front was named Isabelle.


“Yes? It’s Isabelle, isn’t it?”


The little blond nodded her head and smiled. That seemed to be the cue the girls were waiting for since they glanced at each other, nodded silently and then dashed over to him to stand before him in a semi-circle.


“We just…” little Isabelle blushed, “wanted to see if you were okay.”


The other’s nodded and the little brunette with her hair in pig-tails frowned. “You’re not…not in pain, are you?”


Harry smiled slightly, but was careful not to expose too many of his very large teeth. He had always been a bit of a celebrity in his House, but that was as much from Quidditch and always being in trouble with Snape as the whole Boy-Who-Lived crap. These little girls didn’t know about what had happened, they only knew that several of their upperclassmen had been terribly hurt and they were worried about him.


Slowly, so as not to startle the little girls, Harry crouched down in front of them so that he was at their eyelevel. They all sort of leaned back, but they were Gryffindors and once he was down at their level they stepped forward even closer.


“No…I’m not in any pain. It’s a little strange and awkward being a half-lion, but it’s not painful.” He chuckled. “And eating is a little difficult, but that’s okay. They’ll either fix me or I’ll get used to it.”


Wide-eyed, the girls nodded in agreement with him. Then little Isabelle reached out with one hand, paused with it in mid-air. “Can I?... Um, is your fur as soft as it looks?”


Harry snorted at her aborted question. Most likely she was going to ask if she could pet him like some sort of overgrown cat. He lifted up one paw-like hand and held it out to her. It was covered in thick golden fur on the backs.


“Go ahead and see for yourself.”


Smiling, Isabelle finished her movement and touched Harry’s paw very gently. She gasped and turned a wide-eyed smile of joy on her friends.


“Oooo! It’s very soft and fluffy.”


The next thing Harry knew he was forced to brace himself against the door as three little Gryffindor first year girls pressed up against him and began cooing and petting his mane, paws and ears.


“Just watch the tail! Don’t step on my tail, now.”


But the girls managed to deftly step around it in their quest to pet him and love on him. Harry was caught between the conflicting instinct to step up and away as he was not some toy to be played with and the desire to stay and enjoy the delightful sensation of being petted. He vaguely wondered if this is what Crookshanks felt like when the younger girls started cooing over him.


A throat clearing further down the hallway had all four of them turning their heads to look. Professor McGonagall stood there with an unreadable expression on her face.


“Miss Stonebridge, Miss Littleton, Miss Baker. I need to speak with Mr. Potter if you don’t mind. He will be sent back to Gryffindor later on this afternoon and you three can speak with him then.”


“Yes Professor.” Chorused three young voices.


Then Isabelle threw her arms around Harry’s neck, kissed his furry check and whispered, “Bye Harry-cat.” Her two friends repeated the move; hug, kiss and whisper. Then, as a group, they all dashed off down the corridor.


Embarrassed and blushing under his fur, Harry stood up.


“And just what was all that about, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall’s tone was arch and that irritated Harry, but he pushed it down and answered truthfully.


“I’m not sure, Professor. They just came over and asked me if I was in pain. I tried to reassure them that I wasn’t, and that everything would work out. The next thing I knew they were petting me and cooing. I was too worried about my tail getting stepped on to figure out how it happened.”


She eyed him for a brief moment then nodded and sighed. “Yes, well come along then.” With a wave of her wand, the office door unlocked and swung open. “No need to stand about in the hallway.”


Harry just rolled his eyes and pivoted around. He stalked into the room and then tried to get comfortable in one of the student chairs. It wasn’t easy as there was really no space for his tail.


Professor McGonagall watched him fidget for a moment and then sat behind her desk and adjusted her glasses slightly.

”Have you, perchance, had an opportunity to look through the book I gave you?”


Harry shook his head distractedly and tugged at his robe a bit. “No. I ended up having to answer a lot of questions instead. Lavender and Parvati, especially, are upset at not being allowed to visit Hermione. They’re very worried about her.”


McGonagall nodded. “I’m not surprised. Those two girls might come across as flighty sometimes, but they really are good girls and very compassionate. I’ll talk to Madam Pomfrey about when Hermione can receive visitors, even if it’s only those two.”


“Thank you. I’m sure that they both will appreciate it a lot.”


She studied him for another minute and then sighed. “Tell me truthfully, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?”


He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything she held up one hand palm out. “And before you say ‘I’m fine’, please don’t. I know that you are not fine. You’ve just suffered through a traumatizing event and are even now trapped halfway in an animal form. Please tell me the truth. Madam Bones seems to think you are angry and bitter, I can’t judge by how you reacted to Malfoy and his lot, as you are always in some sort of standoff with him and yet you were extremely understanding and gentle with three overly curious little girls.”


Harry sighed, pulled off his glasses and carefully rubbed at his eyes with his paws before gently setting the glasses back on his muzzle.


“You’re right, of course. I’m not fine.” He clenched his jaw. “I am angry and bitter. This whole mess could have been avoided, but the government – no, the whole stupid wizarding world, is so bigoted, boorish and backwards that the Dark doesn’t even have to work that hard to gain ground while the Light has to fight twice as hard just to keep from falling behind.”


He glared at her. “I sometimes find that I wish Hagrid had never rescued me from the muggles. As more time goes by, the less it seems like being rescued and more like I went from the frying pan into the fire.” He snorted and shook his head. “After all, living as a muggle house elf and being kept in a cupboard under the stairs wasn’t that bad in comparison.”


Professor McGonagall gaped at him for a long minute and then breathed out a sad, “You have changed.”


“What?” Harry tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”


She arched an eyebrow at him. “Surely, Mr. Potter, you realize that even a week ago you would have never said such a thing.”


Harry paused, a thoughtful frown twisting his muzzle oddly. “I suppose you’re right about that. I wouldn’t have said it.” He shrugged as best he could with his altered shoulders. “I’ve thought it though. This entire year has been one long horror story. Last year wasn’t much better. Second and third year were pretty bad too, I was just too young to understand all of the problems.”


He tilted his head in the other direction. “First year wasn’t so bad if you discount Quirrell being possessed by Voldemort and trying to kill me several times or Professor Snape and his horribly biased so-called teaching methods.”


Professor McGonagall’s lips pursed together tightly in displeasure, but whether it was at Harry’s attitude or the blatant reminder that her co-worker had been found to be actively betraying them, Harry didn’t know.


“And Mr. Creevey? From all accounts, you were extremely harsh with him.”


Harry growled lightly and then snorted in contempt. “That boy is lucky that I haven’t hexed him anytime over the years.” At McGonagall’s disapproving look, Harry shook his head. “Not that you’d ever believe anything I said, but why don’t you take a look at his collection of photos? I’m positive you’ll find that the twisted little stalker has a whole bunch of me. Most will be shots of me in the Common Room, Great Hall or the corridors, but you’ll also find a slew of them showing me in the loo, the shower and the Quidditch changing area.”


McGonagall seemed a bit startled at that.


“He has no concept of privacy when it comes to me. It’s like I’m some sort of toy he can play with to get his jollies. He stalks me everywhere I go, snapping pictures and saying inane things while demanding I answer all sorts of personal questions. What’s even worse is that he sells those damn pictures to the Daily Prophet and to the children of Death Eaters. I’m sure that Voldemort knows exactly what every one of my friends look like because of that little twerp!”


McGonagall flinched slightly at the Dark Lord’s name, but rallied anyway. “That’s no reason to destroy an expensive camera. You could have just asked him to stop.”


Harry growled. “You’re doing it again!” With a huff he tugged at his robe and shifted in his seat. “Why do you always assume that I’m at fault? I have asked him to stop. The first time was a week after his sorting and I’ve been repeating that plea for four years. He won’t listen because he doesn’t care about anything but his ridiculous pictures of the ‘Great Harry Potter’ and how many galleons he can make from them.”


It was amazing how much scorn that he could get into his voice while saying his own name. He must have learned it from Snape. Well, after four years he was bound to learn at least one thing in potions class.


McGonagall took a deep breath, probably to contain her own temper and hissed out, “If it was so bad, why didn’t you come to me?”


Harry tilted his head and stared at her flatly. “Professor, every time I’ve ever brought anything to your attention, you’ve brushed me off and done nothing about the problem. I’ve stopped trying.”


Pain and hurt flickered across her face and Harry was sure she couldn’t look more injured if he’d slapped her.


“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Potter.”


Harry shrugged. “Well, Snape wants me to die a slow and painful death because of my father, I just assumed that you never believed me and always thought that I was starting trouble just for kicks because of him too.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”


“It does matter. It matters a lot.” She sighed and leaned forward. “Just who here in this castle do you trust, Mr. Potter?”


“Well,” Harry tipped his head back and thought. “Hermione and Ron. Neville and…”


He was cut off. “No, no. I meant the staff members, not the students. Which professors do you trust to take your problems to?”


Harry thought about it. He tilted his head and considered the various teachers and staff members.


“Uh…well, except for Filtch, Snape and Umbridge, I don’t think any of them want to kill me.”


Professor McGonagall suddenly looked very sad and very old.


“I am more sorry than I can say that you can only divide the staff into those that would kill you and those that wouldn’t. I wish even more that I could dispute your words, but I won’t even attempt to try.”


She sighed. “I tell you this now, you can come to us. To myself, to Professor Flitwick, to Professor Sprout, to Hagrid…any of us would try to help you if you were in need.”


Harry nodded in agreement. “I do know that. I also know that Hagrid, as a half-giant has no real authority to really do much and that yourself, Flitwick and Sprout would help any student in need…as long as you could be convinced that there really was a need and not that the student, meaning me, was just trying to stir up trouble.”


McGonagall just stared at him a moment and then sighed. “I can only hope that your opinion on the matter changes over time. For now I can just try to prove that I wish to help you by doing so.”


Harry nodded in agreement.


“There is only a week left of school this term. I sincerely doubt that we will be able to return you to your true form in that time. However, I want you to read through that entire book. It doesn’t go into much detail on the actual transformation steps, but that is fine since you’ve gone a completely different and unexpected route. Instead, that book focuses on the specific theory behind the transformation. You need to not just read it, but to truly understand it.”


“I’m also going to write up a list of several different books, articles and such that I will be giving to you. I would like you to acquire as many of them as you can and then read through them. I believe that you are suffering from a limited form of instinct transference.”


Harry tilted his head at her, his confusion obvious.


“You may not realize this, Mr. Potter, but one of the things that makes the animagus transformation so difficult and so dangerous is that the witch or wizard must take great pains to prepare themselves both mentally and emotionally in order to fully retain their human thought patterns while in animal form. If they fail to do so, they can easily find that their reasoning skills are influenced or even subjugated by the animal’s instincts.”


A tiny smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.


“As you are aware, my own animagus form is that of a tabby cat. That form has many advantages; it is swift, sleek, graceful and quite comely. I was quite delighted when I realized just what my form would be. So, imagine my surprise when I found that I could be so very easily distracted by a fleeting mouse. I was a bit embarrassed to find that I had run down and captured quite a few of them before I was able to resist the urge to hunt and just go about with whatever I had originally planned.”


Harry grinned widely, his overlarge teeth gleaming.


“Oh, I don’t know. I’m willing to bet you’re one excellent mouser, Professor.”


Professor McGonagall nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement of the compliment, even if it was said in tones of amusement.


“I assure you that I am, Mr. Potter. However, that was my animal form’s instinct, not my own particular want or need. I wouldn’t be surprised if your godfather could tell you stories about his own adventures in learning how to either deal with or suppress his animal form’s instincts as well.” She shrugged lightly, “Who knows, perhaps he spent many an hour chasing his own tail. That is a very popular activity with dogs…or so I am led to understand.”


Harry snorted and huffed out a laugh that was half growl and half purr at the mental image of Padfoot chasing his own tail. Personally, he thought that Sirius would enjoy such a silly pastime.


Professor McGonagall’s mouth twitched into a smile once more before she grew serious again.


“The reason I bring this up is that I believe that you being trapped halfway through the transformation has affected your personality to some degree.”


Harry opened his mouth to protest and deny it, but McGonagall held up one hand palm out and he snapped his jaws shut.


“You have already admitted that you have spoken of things that, while you might have thought them, you would have never said out loud. You have become very opinionated vocally instead of locking your thoughts away. Also, your manner of dealing with Mr. Creevey was very harsh, which after four years of simply trying to avoid him is a huge change.”


“There is nothing wrong with being more aggressive and in standing up for yourself. You are going from being a child to being a young man. That shift in priorities and in attitudes is very normal. I just want you to be aware that you are most likely being influenced by the attitudes and instincts of a wild and feral lion. You need to figure out what is coming from you; from your human mind and heart and what is coming from your animagus form.”


Harry nodded his head. “I see what you are saying Professor. Maybe you’re right and I am acting oddly. I can’t really see it since I feel like I’ve just done what needed to be done or said what needed to be said. I’ll think about it a bit more, though.”


She nodded at him. “Please do so. And the booklist that I shall provide you with will have volumes on it that will explain things in greater detail as well as offer some tips and exercises to help you retain as much of your human mind and personality as possible.”


She paused a moment and seemed to age before his very eyes.


“The last thing I wanted to talk to you about was your destination this summer. I spoke with the Headmaster briefly while you were speaking with Madam Bones.” She looked up and grimaced in distaste. “He was tempted to allow you to return to your family despite your partial transformation. Something about the wards requiring your presence for a specific amount of time in order to recharge. Anyhow, no one thought that was a good idea and both Mr. Lupin and Auror Moody threatened to kidnap you away if he attempted to send you there.”


Harry huffed another laugh and flashed a bit of fang in a cat’s smile. “Moony and Mad-Eye just became my heroes.”


Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow over the rim of her glasses at him. “Yes, quite.”


“In any case, both of them offered to host you for the summer, as did the Weasley family. It was also suggested that you spend the entire summer at Headquarters with your godfather. The only other option would be for you to spend the summer here at Hogwarts. Since the Ministry knows of your situation; both in regards to your muggle relatives and your transformation, it would not be unexpected to allow you to stay as long as proper supervision could be arranged.”


“Do you have any preference out of those options?”


Harry nodded and shifted in his seat a bit. “Yes, Professor. I’d like to spend as much time with my godfather as possible. If not, I’d prefer it here at Hogwarts. I’m assuming that in either location I would be able to have both Moony and Mad-Eye visit.”


Professor McGonagall nodded her head and looked over the rim of her glasses.


“Very well. I will inform the Headmaster and ask that he speak with you once arrangements have been made. I also wish to ask you to attempt to reign in your temper as best you can. You already have a vast potential for magic and now you also have a vast potential to injure someone physically. Don’t let it get that far, even if you have to be the one to walk away.”


Harry ground his teeth in frustration. It was very rare that he started confrontation, but he really disliked the idea of not being the one to end them. Eyes narrowed and irritation making his tail swish as best as possible while sitting in the uncomfortable chair, Harry nodded his head stiffly.


Professor McGonagall sighed and nodded.


“Please don’t forget to begin reading the book that I’ve already given you and I will provide you with the list of further reading tomorrow.”


She smiled faintly. “Good night, Mr. Potter.”


Harry stood up and attempted to settle his robes about his altered body. “Good night, Professor.”


Harry walked over to the door with his loping gait, swung it open and stepped out into the corridor. He was pleasantly surprised to find Neville and Ginny waiting for him. They had been leaning against the wall across from the door and they both stood up straight at his approach.


“We didn’t think you’d want to walk through the halls by yourself.” Ginny blushed and gestured to his altered state. “All things considered you’d be stared at by most or attacked from behind by a few.”


Thoughts of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle with Nott, Parkinson and Bulstrode backing them up flitted through Harry’s mind. He sighed.


“True enough.”


He carefully lifted up the hood of his robe so that it covered as much of his face and head as possible. Once again, only his golden muzzle stuck out the front.


“So,” Neville did nonchalant fairly well, but Harry knew better. “What did McGonagall want.”


Harry shrugged and waved his paw in a vague gesture.


“She said a lot of words, but it boils down to she thinks I’m fairly stuck like this until they figure out what Voldemort actually did to me and right now they haven’t got a clue. She wants me to do some reading up on the animagus transformation and even gave me a book to start with, but that’s it so far.”


Both of his friends nodded even as they turned the corner out of the hallway and into the main Entrance Hall with all of the moving staircases. They headed towards the one that would take them upwards in the direction of Gryffindor.


“She also said that I most likely won’t return to my muggle relatives this summer, which is a blessing if you ask me. They just aren’t sure yet where I’ll be staying. They’re still trying to work out the details, but she said she’ll let me know as soon as they do.”


Ginny nodded and reached out to lay one hand on his arm.


“I know that mum asked for you to stay with us. I think she feels that Ron might respond better if he’s surrounded by as many people that care for him as possible. She also asked for Hermione to stay with us while she finished healing up.” She shrugged and offered up a tiny grin. “Plus I think that she wants the chance to fuss over the two of you as well. This whole mess has really upset her badly.”


Harry patted her hand with one of his huge paws.


“That was one of the options she listed. I don’t know if it will be the one picked, though.”


Ginny looked up at him, her face pale and confused.


“They might feel that Ron needs and deserves all of her attention that she can give and that it wouldn’t be fair to him to have her also taking care of other children.”


“You’re probably right.” Neville’s voice was still trying to maintain its calm and distant air, but the undertones were ones of anger and frustration. “After all, no one can say how long he’ll be in that coma, nor how much medical help he’ll need after he comes out. He might be fine, but…”


It was then that Harry remembered that Neville’s parents were both in St. Mungo’s for extensive spell damage to their minds from an attack by Death Eaters. That Ron was looking at facing long term spell damage as well was most likely a painful reminder to him of just how dangerous the dark arts were. And speaking of spell damage…


“I also wanted to ask you two for your help.”


They both turned their faces to look at him, wariness and curiosity vying for dominance.


“It’s nothing really bad, it’s just…Professor McGonagall thinks that my being stuck in a partial transformation into my animagus form is affecting my attitude and personality. She thinks that I’m acting a bit more aggressively and…well, mean.”


Ginny looked confused, but Neville nodded and said, “Creevey.”


At the soft little noise of curiosity, Neville leaned forward around Harry and looked at her with a grin. “Harry finally lost his patience with the little prat and hexed his camera to pieces.”


Ginny snorted a small laugh and shook her head in amusement, but didn’t say anything. Everyone even mildly close to the Boy-Who-Lived knew that he couldn’t stand Colin and his camera. In her opinion, it had only been a matter of time until Harry had done something and it was better that he hexed the camera instead of Colin himself.


“Yes, well, Professor McGonagall thinks that I have to watch my temper so that no one gets hurt. So if you see that I’m getting growlly or that I’m doing something that is out of proportion to the situation, please let me know. I personally don’t see it, but I think that’s the point. The animagus doesn’t realize he’s acting as his animal form would.”


“No problem mate.” Neville said even as he patted Harry’s shoulder. “After all, we already knew you had a bit of a temper.”


Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

 
8 – The Common Room


The afternoon had gone surprisingly fast and smooth. Ginny and Neville had answered most of the questions that their housemates asked and deflected a lot of attention from Harry. Because of that, he was able to excuse himself fairly easily and he headed up to his dorm.


At first he was tempted to peel himself out of his clothes and give his fur a good seeing to, as he was certain that it was being fluffed and ruffled in a mishmash of ways. Harry wasn’t really sure why it was so important to have his fur laying neatly, but it was. He just chalked it up to a ‘cat thing’ and let it go at that. Unfortunately, he decided that it would be better to wait until at least after dinner. Why go to the trouble of getting all situated and comfortable only to have to pull his uniform back on?


Instead, he curled up on top of his bed in a nest of blankets and began to read the book that Professor McGonagall gave him. It was a fairly difficult book as it contained a lot of advanced transfiguration theory, but Harry figured it would be best to just plow through it all at once. Then he could go back and study the individual chapters more in-depth once he had that overview.


He lost track of time while reading, so it came as a bit of a surprise when Dean poked his head into the dorm to tell him it was dinner time. It was even more shocking to realize that he wasn’t alone in his bed. There was, in fact, a fairly large group of the students’ cats and kneazles curled up on top of or around him. They were all purring loudly at him and he was, unknowingly, purring right back at them. Crookshanks had pride of place on his pillow and was purring enthusiastically into his ear.


Dean, of course, was grinning widely at him like a fool.


“Well,” he chortled. “They say that lion’s are the King of Beasts, so it stands to reason that you’d end up with a court singing your praises.”


Harry gently extracted himself from his warm nest of blankets and felines.


“Very funny, mate.”


“Of course it is.” Dean beamed at him. “It’s dinner time, your majesty. You can play with your little friends later.”


Harry rolled his eyes and considered casting a spell to banish lint and animal fur from his clothes, but he was afraid that it might also banish his own fur. He didn’t fancy being a furless lion, so he refrained from trying.


“Yes, ha ha. It’s so funny. Look at the silly cat-boy and all his furry friends.”


Dean just nodded and slapped Harry on his back. “Too right, mate.”


Of course the humiliation didn’t end there. The pack of felines happily trailed after him as he made his way down the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room and then tried to follow him out of Gryffindor to the main parts of the castle. They yowled, hissed and complained terribly when they were not allowed to head off to dinner with him.


All the Gryffindors found this terribly hilarious.


On the other hand, Harry was very grateful that so many of his housemates had waited for him so that they could all head off to the Great Hall together. He didn’t really want to run into a pack of Slytherins all alone. Nor did he want to be stared out by the members of the other houses, so being in the middle of so many of his housemates would help him blend into the crowd, at least a little.


Getting to the Great Hall went smoothly enough even if he did have to endure several teasing jokes at his expense. His leonine appearance caused a bit of a stir with some of the students who hadn’t seen him at lunch, but no one did more than stare. When Seamus pointed that fact out, he replied in a loud rumbling voice, “I’m used to having people stare and gawk at me rudely. I think it’s because they forget that I’m a real person and not one of their toys. I figure I have a 50-50 chance of them treating me like a hero and a 50-50 chance of them treating me like a villain. We’ll see which it is after the Daily Prophet decides what the people should think.”


The stares lessened after that, but his much more sensitive hearing picked up a few conversations about his remarks; specifically that he wasn’t a toy and that the Daily Prophet did their thinking for them.


The atmosphere lightened greatly when Angelina once again conjured him a bib. This one had a cartoon lion wearing glasses and a bejeweled crown lying across the length of a Gryffindor red couch with a host of cats and kneazles playing and trying to pounce on the lion’s tail as it swished through the air. This time, instead of periodically roaring, the bib purred at him.


“Yes, yes. Cute and clever. Thank you very much.”


Angelina curtsied at him and said, “You’re welcome, your majesty.” Then she winked, giggled and pranced back to her seat.


Harry merely sighed amongst the titters of laughter and tried to figure out what to attempt to eat. The chicken legs smelled delicious and were easy enough to hold. The roast beef smelled divine and Parvati helpfully built him a large sandwich out of it for him. He avoided the pumpkin juice and chose milk instead. Dean transfigured him a straw which made drinking easier, if not less messy. The steamed flounder was also really good, but it required a fork to be adjusted for him.


All in all, dinner went better than he thought it would. He was even able to force himself to share the roast beef, although it helped that no one would actually pass him the platter, but instead gave him only a few slices for his plate.


Eventually, enough people were done eating that a bunch of them could head on up to Gryffindor together. Harry’s loping gait handled the hallways okay, but he found going up the stairs to be bothersome. He had the oddest urge to get down on all fours and bound up them instead of climbing them as a bipedal. He resisted the urge, of course. There was no need to make himself seem ever stranger than he was.


Echoes of his uncle and aunt yelling ‘freak’ still haunted his memories.


As soon they made it to Gryffindor, Harry found himself surrounded by a bevy of felines all vying for his attention by rubbing against his shins and purring at him. He couldn’t make himself be upset over his housemates finding this to be hilarious as he was also quite bemused. Although automatically purring back at them was a bit irritating as he didn’t really notice that he was doing it until someone pointed it out to him.


More proof that Professor McGonagall was correct in that he was being influenced by his inner lion’s instincts. He’d have to watch for that a bit closer. Purring wasn’t so bad, but what if his instinct was to take a swipe at someone with his claws? Or even worse, to bite them? He began to understand why she was worried. He could, after all, do some pretty nasty damage to someone if he attacked them.


Well, with the exception of Colin Creevey, there wasn’t anyone in Gryffindor that really irked him and both Neville and Ginny had promised to watch over him.


With a nod at Ginny and gesturing Neville to follow, Harry headed up the stairs to the boy’s dorm. Dean and Seamus followed as well, both of them sporting large grins as the Gryffindor felines also gave chase. So it was a merry precession of three boys, one half-human half-lion and nearly two dozen cats that made its way to the fifth year dorm.


As soon as he crossed the threshold, Harry began to try and peel himself out of his uniform. It wasn’t as easy as it sounds because he had trouble gripping the fabric with his paw-like hands and didn’t want to tear it with his claws. Worse still was his lack of ability to work any sort of button. Eventually, the whole process devolved into a series of silly jokes about Harry’s supposed role as ‘King of Beasts’ and how they were his valets and manservant’s as they all ended up having to help. Neville and Seamus worked to peel Harry out of his clothes while Dean hit them with several anti-lint and animal fur charms before folding them up and tucking them away.


When he was down to nothing but his boxer shorts, Harry handed his wand over to Neville. “Okay, Nev. Hit me with a few of those Tersus Saeta charms.”


Harry stood there with both arms up and spread wide while Neville worked his way around him while casting the hair and fur cleaning charm again and again. Dean and Seamus helped by standing out of the way and keeping their snickering down to a dull roar. When Neville was done, Harry couldn’t stop himself from giving a giant full body shake that started at his head, worked its way down his spine and finally ended with his tail snapping back and forth sharply. That caused Seamus to laugh so hard he gave himself the hiccups.


Harry just rolled his eyes and pulled out a pair of Dudley’s old sweatpants. He climbed into them as best he could and then took back his wand to transfigure them as best he could. He adjusted the length to how he had worn his trousers, ending at the first major bend in his leg that indicated the start of the foot bone. Then he adjusted the waist to fit his altered body and added a little hole to pull his tail through.


“Now,” Harry growled lightly, “I need a brush.”


Dean snorted in amusement. “You need a whole legion of brushes, mate.”


“Ha ha, yes, very droll.”


Seamus, still giggling and hiccupping, dug through his trunk and pulled out his brush. He handed it over to Harry with a wide grin.


“Thanks, mate.”


With a sigh, he turned and made his way back down the stairs with a brush in one paw and his wand in the other. Curious and amused, the boys and felines followed him. Back in the Common Room, he’d found that a large portion of the Gryffindor girls were surrounding Ginny and offering her ears to listen, shoulders to cry on and just general all around support. He wandered over and waved the brush in front of them.


“Um…” He could feel everyone’s eyes on him and he blushed under his fur. “Could one of you help me out with this?”


A few giggles burst out, but Parvati stood up and took the brush from him.


“Sure Harry. I’d be happy to help.”


He grinned and sighed in relief. “Thanks. I can’t exactly reach everywhere I need to be brushed.”


Then he half turned and aimed his wand at the sofa. Two third years yelped and dove to either side, but Harry simply levitated a pillow off of the sofa and across the room towards the fireplace. Once it was down on the floor he enlarged it to be big enough to hold two people lying down. Then he loped over to it and flopped down on his stomach and turned his back to Parvati.


“As you can see, my mane goes halfway down my back.” He frowned as best he could with his transformed mouth. “And it’s all rumpled from my shirt and jumper.”


Chuckling lightly, Parvati knelt down on the pillow next to him and began to carefully and gently pull the brush through his thick fur.


“Well, we can’t have a rumpled and ruffled lion wandering about. That just won’t do.”


The brush being pulled through his fur felt amazing. He could feel the very tips of the bristles rub gently against his skin under the thick pelt and the slight little tugs at the longer fur. It was nearly hypnotic, the warmth of the fire, the soothing and rhythmic stroking of the brush over his head, neck and back.


He didn’t even realize when he began to kneed the pillow with his front paws or when he started purring loudly like a noisy motorcar engine. His eyes narrowed down into slits of pleasure and he was oblivious to the stifled giggles all around the room. He was only vaguely aware of slowly being surrounded by a court of all the Gryffindor felines and the first year girls that wanted the chance to pet and coo at him.


Caught in the grips of physical pleasure from his brushing and on the edge of sleep, Harry felt very loved, very protected and very happy. It was an interesting and lovely sensation as well as one he had not enjoyed nearly enough in his life.


He had the vague thought that he should take his godfather to a muggle dog-grooming shop so that he could be prettied up. Then he and Moony could take him to the park to be pet and loved on by a bunch of little kids. After years in Azkaban, it would probably help him to regain some good memories of happiness. Padfoot would probably enjoy a game of fetch, too.


All too soon, Harry slipped away into sleep.


He had a very interesting and enjoyable dream about lounging in the soft grass while lion kits tumbled about in play. The sun was shinning down on him, his belly was full and all was right in his world.


Then somehow the dream morphed and he was stalking through the grass, his belly low as he silently tracked his prey. He caught a glimpse of sight here, a whiff of perfumed air there. His prey was a tall reptilian man with the scent of brimstone mixed with damp, rot, and old blood. He was wearing a long flowing robe of deepest jet over his pale scaly flesh and the hissing sound of agitated snakes echoed in his every graceful movement.


Silently, Harry stalked him from behind. Periodically a large polished stone would rise up out of the grass, letters and symbols etched onto its surface and the sleeping dead lying beneath. The shinning moon was swollen as it hung low in the sky and the baying of wolves in the distance spurred him on. He needed to catch his prey, to rend his flesh and scatter his magic to the four winds. The earth, the sky, the water and even the very firespark of life demanded it. He was just about to pounce when his prey stilled, then spun about to stare at him.


Twin burning red eyes glowed in the darkness.


With a gasp and a jerk Harry awoke, his head snapping up off of his pillow even as he snarled his anger to the very world around him.


He was in the Gryffindor Common Room. He looked around in confusion. He was still on his pillow by the fire, but most of the students were gone. Only a few of the upperclassmen were still up and awake, but they were now staring at him in shock.


“You okay there Harry?”


Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around at the dimly lit and quiet Common Room.


“Yeah, just…” he shrugged. “Weird dream. I was a lion and…I think I was stalking prey.”


The looks of concern slowly melted into expressions of amusement.


“Ah huh.” The bemused seventh year nodded his head. “Well, if you want to head up to bed, most everyone else did already. If not, please don’t roar anymore. It’s very startling.”


Harry blushed under his fur and reached up to straighten out his glasses which had gotten knocked askew.


“No problem.” He shrugged. “I don’t think I’m ready to go back to sleep just yet. One dream of stalking Voldemort through tall grass is enough for any night. I think I’ll read instead.”


The other Gryffindors flinched at the Dark Lord’s name, but they all agreed that one dream about him was more than enough for anyone.


It didn’t take Harry long to go up to his dorm room, grab up the book from McGonagall and his dressing gown and head on back to the Common Room. Wrapping himself up in his dressing gown, he made a nest of blankets on the sofa, curled up and began to read.


The introduction was fairly exciting. And the overview at the beginning of each chapter was also pretty good. It was the real meat of the individual chapters that Harry had a problem with. Once it started to get technical, the writing style changed to become very dry and overly wordy. Some of those words were ones he hadn’t come across before. He thought he might be able to figure out most through context, but he wasn’t sure. It was looking like he’d have to go through this book very carefully with a dictionary on one hand and a sheet of parchment on the other. He’d take notes and write down any questions he developed along the way.


For right now, it was enough to just read through it quickly so as to get a better handle on just what he’d be learning. He could tell already that he’d have to go back and review various sections of his transfiguration text, plus there were concepts referenced that they hadn’t even covered yet. He’d most likely have to do research in other texts in order to learn the ideas, concepts and theories that were mentioned as it was obvious the author of this book assumed the reader already understood those basics.


The further he got into the book, the more he felt his respect and admiration for his father, godfather and even the traitor grow. This was NEWT level magic and those three boys had studied it, learned it and mastered it while they were preparing for their OWL’s. That it took nearly three years wasn’t surprising, it was that they managed it at all that was the shocker.


It also made him wonder what he and his friends might have accomplished if they didn’t have some yearly disaster to contend with. The Marauders had become animagi, created a magical map and took many of the top spots in their year as far as grades went. On top of that, his father and godfather were on the Quidditch team, Moony was a prefect and a werewolf and all four of them continually pranked the school with much emphasis on the Slytherins.


In comparison, he and his friends didn’t seem nearly as accomplished. His grades weren’t bad, but they weren’t as good as they could be. He usually followed Ron’s lead in brushing off Hermione’s attempts to get them to study more. As for other things, Ron didn’t want to really get involved in any project that didn’t center around chess or Quidditch. Hence the fact that they didn’t really learn any cool advanced magic, create any neat enchanted object or anything.


The DA didn’t really count as they were only doing that out of sheer necessity because of Umbridge’s abysmal teaching methods. His yearly disaster was usually a bit of mystery that they fussed over for a little bit with Hermione doing almost all of the research followed by a brief and terrifying adventure that was more fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants-luck than any real planning, plotting or goal reaching.


It just didn’t compare. The only things he’d ever planned out were Quidditch games. And even that was mostly just good reflexes and being able to react to changes fast and decisively. Even his confrontations with the Slytherins were mostly his reacting to what they were doing.


He’d never thought of himself as a lazy slacker with a poor imagination, but he was reading through a book because he had to in order to help himself, while he father had done he because he wanted to in order to help a friend. It was a bleak sort of self analysis, but this whole mess really did bring everything into crystal focus for him.


Or maybe it was his inner lion poking him in his psyche again. Professor McGonagall had warned him that his personality would be influenced by his animal form and while a lion might enjoy lounging about in the sun, it also didn’t stand for any threats against it or its pride. Nor did it let itself become less than it could possibly be. A lion lived up to its full potential and it didn’t give any quarter…even to itself.


Harry was ashamed to admit it, but he couldn’t deny the truth of the matter. And bluntly put, Harry had rarely lived up to his full potential. It was fairly easy to see when he looked back over his life objectively. The Dursley’s had squashed a lot of his curiosity and desire to learn. They had been trying to snuff out his magic, but instead it had affected his imagination, curiosity and his innate ability to become involved in anything. Good grades were punished since Dudley really didn’t do well in school. Extra curricular activities were banned for him. Reading, telly, arts and crafts, sports, friends and just playing games were all things that he was denied. They only ever pushed him towards cleaning, cooking and gardening.


He’d brought that attitude and expectation of life with him to Hogwarts. Ron and being appointed to the Quidditch team had opened up a whole new avenue for Harry that he’d never had before. He was allowed to play and be a part of a team. He had reveled in that concept that other children had always known, almost to the exclusion of all else. It had been so freeing, so awe inspiring and so joyous to him that he had perhaps focused too strongly on those aspects of his life.


Now, he suddenly realized, it was time to shift his focus and explore the other things that were a part of him that he had been denied by his upbringing. He needed to start to allow his brain the same freedom to stretch and grow that he’d given his emotions and social life. He was smarter than Dudley by a good bit and it was time he stopped earning Dudley sized grades and started earning Harry sized grades.


It was time for him to actually live in the world, not just play in it. Nor let it sweep him along the way that a stick tossed into a river is swept along by the current. Instead, he needed to be a boat that charted its’ own course. Voldemort and his lackeys had upped the stakes and Harry had to be able to deal with him and anything he threw at Harry.


The debacle at the Ministry had proven that OWL level defensive skills were nowhere near enough to do that. If he needed to understand the changes forced onto him, so be it. If he needed to learn to create and enchant objects like the map, so be it. If it meant that he had to work hard, think outside the box and be a force to be reckoned with, so be it.


For a brief moment, he really and sincerely regretted taking Divination. He should have listened to Hermione when she had said that it was a dodgy class. He could see now that he had merely wasted his time with it for no other reason than it was very easy and Ron hadn’t wanted to take a harder class. So he had stuck by Ron instead of doing what he now saw was the correct thing to do; drop Divination and take a real class that had meaning and purpose.


And now that he really thought about it, he hadn’t taken many of his classes seriously. Potions were seen as a punishment due to Snape, Divination was a joke, Astronomy was sorta boring and he never saw the use for it despite Hermione insisting it was important, History was ignored for the most part since Binns was sleep inducing and his booklist wasn’t far behind and Harry balked at Herbology since it reminded him of countless hours spent doing chores in the garden for his Aunt.


That left Charms, Transfiguration and Defense. Only two of the three had good teachers on a consistent basis and he tended to be far better at the practical than the theory. Taken all together, Harry could see that he had created a pattern of laziness, disinterest and lackluster dedication to his studies. No wonder Hermione got so frustrated with him and Ron so often.


Standing up, Harry closed the book and made a vow to himself that from here on in, he was going to try harder, work longer and focus more intently on his education. He wasn’t sure why Voldemort was so focused on him, but that fact was becoming more and more obvious with every year. He no longer had the luxury of relying on luck and instinct to carry him through. He and his friends had paid a terrible price to learn that little bit of wisdom, now it was up to him to make sure that didn’t happen again.


Determination firming up his resolve, Harry marched up to the boy’s dorm and began to get ready for the day. The sun was still low in the sky, but he didn’t care. He spent a lot of time transfiguring his clothes to fit and brushing down his fur into some semblance of neatness as best he could. It was a long arduous process, but he managed to do it without waking his dorm mates.


Dressed and fairly presentable, Harry picked up his book bag and made sure that his current transfiguration text, a wizarding dictionary, a stack of parchment, some ink and quills and Professor McGonagall’s book were tucked in there. Then he slung his school robe over his uniform, picked up his bag and marched back out of the dorm and down the steps.


It was rumored that Ravenclaw had its own library, but Gryffindor was different. The common room was divided into thirds. One third by the fire place was usually reserved for socializing and chatting. One third had a cabinet full of games and toys to play with, and the last third had several tables and chairs for studying at. Next to the study tables were several small bookshelves with a variety of reference books that anyone in Gryffindor was free to use. Loping over to the bookshelves, Harry looked through to see if what he wanted was there.


Most of the books were either basic references or books on Quidditch. There were a few history books, but they focused on Gryffindor House and the more famous alumni. Harry grabbed up two books on advanced transfiguration and one on advanced charms. Tucking them away into his book bag, Harry turned and loped off towards the main entrance to Gryffindor.


He wasn’t sure if Hermione would be awake yet, but he hoped that Madam Pomfrey would allow him to study next to her, if not with her. If not, he could at least leave a book or two with her so that she didn’t spend the day bored out of her mind. As a bonus, he’d be able to see how both she and Ron were doing. He was terribly worried about both of them and even just sitting quietly and reading while near them would make him feel a lot better.


Slipping through the portrait, Harry found that the hallways and corridors were mostly empty at this time of day. He was able to arrive at the Infirmary fairly quickly as he loped along with his odd rolling gait. Once there, he carefully opened the door and tried to be quiet as he slipped into the patient room.


Ron, Hermione and Luna were all sleeping. Ron seemed restless, but the girls were quiet. Sighing, Harry pulled a chair over between Hermione and Luna’s beds. Sitting, he took a moment to adjust his tail and then pulled out the book McGonagall had given him. He set the other transfiguration books and the dictionary on Hermione’s end table and charmed his parchment and quill to float next to him. It would write down whatever he said to it, even if he whispered.


Then, he opened the book that Professor McGonagall had given him and opened it to chapter one. This time he went through it much more carefully. He dictated notes, asked questions which he then tried to research in the other books and quoted the definitions of unfamiliar words that he was coming across.


Harry was so involved in his studies that he was surprised when Madam Pomfrey came in to wake the girls. Hermione was given a series of potions and another treatment with the breathing mask, but then three breakfasts were brought in and Harry entertained them with stories of Angelina’s lion bibs.

 
 9 – Summer Plans


Lunch was just as startling as breakfast had been.


Luna had asked for the charms book and had read through it, even though she seemed to spend a lot of time looking over at Ron with a sad expression in her gray eyes. Ron, for his part was still lost inside his own mind. Madam Pomfrey had spelled a few potions and some juice, broth and applesauce into his stomach. The tall gangly redhead had barely reacted. When she changed his bandages, though, it was a different matter all together.


Harry finally got to see those swirling and spiraling scars that Lupin had mentioned. The man had been correct in saying that they were oddly delicate and beautiful looking, but that didn’t change the fact that they were very slow to heal and most likely painful for Ron on some unconscious level. He had flinched and moaned in his sleep while Madam Pomfrey unwound the bandages and he’d muttered nonsensical words while she applied a salve and rebandaged them.


His horror and concern must have shown in his eyes, because when she finished Madam Pomfrey turned to him and smiled softly. “Don’t worry Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley is doing much better today. There’s been a large improvement over night and the wounds on his arms and face are very nearly healed. Soon he won’t need the salve or bandages at all.”


He nodded, though to be honest that was only a part of his worries where Ron was concerned. “Is…” he shrugged and made a vague gesture. “Is there anything I can do to help?”


Madam Pomfrey sighed and looked back over at Ron for a moment.


“I have several specialists from St. Mungo’s scheduled to visit Mr. Weasley later on today. They’ll be able to give us a much better idea what to expect as this is a bit out of my league. For now, I would just say that if you wish to sit and talk to him that you should do so. I have several indications that Mr. Weasley can hear us even if he can’t respond beyond reacting to familiar voices.”


“Thank you.”


She had smiled and wandered off into her office. Harry had given one of his books to Hermione and walked over to Ron’s bed. Pulling up a chair, Harry had gotten comfortable and spent nearly an hour regaling the unconscious Ron with current happenings. He explained about his interview with Madam Bones, his condition of being stuck in a partial animagus transformation and the work he needed to do before Professor McGonagall felt she’d be able to help him. He told Ron about Malfoy wetting himself in the Great Hall, about Angelina’s bibs and how the Gryffindor firsties liked to pet his new fur.


By then Ginny had come to visit. She held up her fourth year potions book. “I missed my end of year test and I was told that they will let me do a makeup test tomorrow. I thought that I’d read the book to Ron. Sort of a two for one deal. I get to review and he can listen to my voice.”


Smiling, Harry had stood up and waved her into his chair. “That sounds like a good idea. I’m sure he’ll appreciate hearing you talk to him, even if it is potions.” He tilted his head in a jerk over to the beds where Hermione and Luna were propped up with books of their own. “I’m just going to sit over there and read some transfiguration books in the hopes of fixing my…well, you know.”


Ginny had smiled, nodded and patted him on the shoulder before sitting down. “Hello Ron…”


And Harry went back over to the other side of the room and sat back on the chair between the two witches’ beds. He picked McGonagall’s book up again and reset the charms on his parchment and quill. With a quick grin at the two girls, he dove back into his work.


Which is why he was so surprised by lunch. He could have sworn he’d just gotten back to work, but when he quickly cast, “TEMPUS!” it showed that several hours had actually passed. He had looked up blinking rapidly with a stupid look on his face as house elves delivered a tray for Hermione and a tray for Luna.


“Come on Harry.” Ginny was stretching her back out after being sitting for so long. “It’s lunch time. Pack up your stuff and lets go.”


Slightly confused at how fast time had flown by and with a rumbling stomach telling him that it really was lunch time, Harry quickly packed up his books and parchment. Once everything was situated, Harry stood up and stepped over to where Hermione was sitting up on her bed. Without thinking, Harry bent down to her and rubbed his furry cheek over her own cheek and purred at her lightly.


Then he stood up, realized what he had done and blushed madly under his fur. Hermione blinked up at him with a confused look on her face and Ginny giggled.


“Don’t mind Harry. He’s been doing lots of cat-type things ever since he woke up and I’ve seen Crookshanks do that same thing to you.”


Hermione arched an eyebrow. “Cat-type things?” her voice was a breathy whisper.


“Yep!” Ginny smirked. “You should have heard the racket Harry made with all his little feline friends in the common room yesterday.”


“Racket…what racket? Like a tennis racket?” And oh joy, Luna was getting in on the fun.


“No silly. Harry had all of the cats and kneazles in Gryffindor all purring in unison. Of course, he was purring right along with them and he’s easily twice as loud as the rest of them. It was funny though.”


Hermione smirked at Ginny and Luna smiled softly.


“Yes, yes. Very funny indeed. Laugh it up at the poor cat-boy when he does strange freakish things.”


Their smiles got wider and he chuckled lightly, a rumbling growly sound. He turned to go and was stopped by Luna holding out a hand to him even as she tilted her cheek upwards. With a snort of amusement, Harry reached out with one paw and pet her hand even as he leaned down and rubbed one of his cheeks against hers.


“Oooo,” Luna cooed, “Very soft.”


Hermione nodded in agreement. “Yes, very.”


Harry rolled his eyes and grinned. “Thanks.” His voice was wry with amusement.


Chuckling, Ginny leaned down and hugged them both and then gave Harry a light little shove towards the Infirmary doors. Harry lifted the hood of his robe up over his head and loped alongside of her as they made their way to the Great Hall. They were met halfway there by Dean and Seamus. Dean walked over and wrapped an arm around Ginny and then leaned down for a quick kiss.


Seamus eyed Harry with a smirk, “Hope you’re not wanting the same, mate?”


Harry eyed him back. “Kiss me and die, Finnegan.”


Seamus’ smirk widened into a grin. “And there’s the moody bastard we all know and try to appease.”


Dean snorted and chuckled. “You need to read the Prophet and get with the times, mate. Harry’s no longer a moody bastard or an insane liar. He’s an oppressed hero, don’t you know.”


Seamus affected a poorly faked surprise. “Oh, is that so? Well, that’s different then, innit?”


Harry groaned and reached up to run a paw down the side of his muzzle in exasperated annoyance. “Great Godric save me from the deranged press.” He turned a woe begotten look on Dean. “What’s the Daily Bullshit saying about me this time?”


Dean reached into his own bag and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. Unfolding it, he held it up so that Harry could read the headline. In large flashing type, the headline read, “MINISTER FUDGE ARRESTED AS DEATH EATER! COVER-UP OF DARK ACTIVITIES DISCOVERED! POTTER WAS TELLING TRUTH ALL ALONG!”


Under the large headline and next to an article was a picture of Fudge being dragged out of his office in manacles by several Aurors.


“The article tells all about how Fudge was orchestrating things to publicly damage your and the Headmaster’s reputations so that no one would believe you when you told everyone about You-Know-Who returning to his full power. It also says that there’s going to be an investigation into Umbridge’s time here. They think that she was sent here by the Minister to do further damage to both you and the Headmaster.”


Harry wanted to groan. This would just ensure that everyone stared at him in the Great Hall. Although it was nice to be vindicated. And that picture of Fudge being arrested was definitely one for the scrapbooks.


They made their way into the Great Hall and Harry saw that he was right. Everyone did turn to look and let their stares linger. Of course, it could be the whole lion thing still, but Harry was betting the article just made them more curious. He sat down next to Seamus and across from Ginny and Dean.


“The next step is to get an Interim Minister who’ll run things until the next real election.” Dean smirked and quickly grabbed up some roast pork before Harry could get to the platter. “Normally it would go to the Senior Undersecretary, but Umbridge is under investigation for criminal activities here at Hogwarts. They are going to have the Wizengamot vote on which Department Head will end up as the Interim Minister.”


Harry finally was able to get a hold of the roast pork and he speared himself several large slices. “Well, I just hope they don’t pick another bloody Death Eater. The Ministry is filled with them.”


Just then, Hedwig flew into the Great Hall, circled Harry twice and then landed on the table next to him. She tilted her head slightly, blinked her big eyes at him and then clicked her beak. Harry nodded sadly.


“Yeah. I know I look a bit odd. Hopefully it won’t last too long and then I’ll be back to normal.” He reached out and ran one paw gently down her feathered head. “It’s still me in here though.”


Hedwig seemed to stare at him a moment as if judging his sincerity, then she hooted loudly and leaned into his touch. Seamus just shook his head at the oddly close relationship between Harry and Hedwig even as Dean and Ginny beamed bright smiles at them.


Harry ran his paw down Hedwig’s body and fumbled with the letter tied to her leg a moment. With a sigh he pulled his paw back and stared at it for a long moment. Then he sighed again, this time it was less frustrated and more sad.


“Hedwig? Would you let Dean untie your letter? I can’t seem to get my paws to unknot the string and I don’t want to accidentally hurt you trying.”


Hedwig hooted sadly and then hopped over to Dean. Dean’s smile dimmed and for once he seemed to pick up how much this hurt Harry and didn’t make a snarky comment. Instead he leaned forward and carefully untied the string and handed over the letter to Harry with a softly whispered, “There you go, pretty lady.”


Hedwig hooted, hopped over to Harry and rubbed against his hand briefly. Then she leapt into the air, circled once, snagged a large piece of roast pork and then took off soaring into the air with her prize. Seamus snorted in amusement.


“I see where Harry gets his table manners from. Hedwig teach you to steal all of the meat, did she?”


Harry eyed his Irish friend a moment. “Of course not!” His voice was indignant even as he stole a piece of roast pork off of the other boy’s plate. Dean and Ginny snickered.


Smug rumbling purrs vibrating his chest, Harry took a large bite and then turned his attention to the letter. Carefully unfolding it, he found it was just a short little note written in sparkling green ink in a familiar looping scrawl.


Dear Harry,


Please come up to my office after lunch. I need to speak with you about where you will be staying this summer as it will be impossible for you to return to your relatives in your current state. The password is Fizzing Whizbees.


A.B.W. Dumbledore


Sighing, Harry folded the note and tucked it into his pocket. Turning his head, he looked up at the teacher’s table and caught Professor Dumbledore’s eye. He nodded his acceptance and the old wizard nodded back.


Harry turned his attention back to his lunch and promptly dropped a large piece of fried tuna down the front of himself. He managed to smear grease and butter sauce over his tie, jumper, and trousers in one go of it. Seamus was lightly splattered and was too busy moaning over that fact to tease Harry, but both Dean and Ginny were not as successful at stifling their giggles as they’d hoped.


Harry looked up with a pained expression. “This is why I put up with everyone laughing at the bibs that Angelina made for me.”


“Don’t worry Harry,” Ginny managed to control her laughter long enough to gasp out, “We’ll set you to rights after we eat. A good cleaning charm will do it just fine.”


And it did, too. The rest of lunch went remarkably well after that one accident. After they were done eating Ginny and Dean had hit both him and Seamus with a few strong “SCOURGIFY!”s and after the soap-scented bubbles were done swirling around them they were clean as a whistle.


After thanking them and waving them off, Harry headed towards Professor Dumbledore’s office. He was nearly run over by a flock of little Gryffindor firsties that dashed by while calling out a series of “Hi Harry-cat!” at him. He rumbled at them and waved. Harry didn’t even know half of their names but he was fairly sure that most of them had gathered around his pillow last night and petted him under the watchful eye of Pavarti. He’d have to remember to thank her for making sure none of them had yanked on his tail or tugged at his ears.


Before he knew it, he was standing before the stone gargoyle guardian. “Fizzing Whizbees.” As the stone slid to the side and the spiral staircase was revealed, Harry had to wonder if the Headmaster had changed his password just for him. His speech was just a touch garbled as certain sounds were more difficult to make than others with his altered jaw and mouth. Those two words were actually fairly simple for him to say. He wouldn’t put it past the canny old man to realize that and fix it to be as easy as possible for him. He also wouldn’t put it past him to change it to make it more difficult if he had such a mind to do so.


Figuring that as worthless speculation, Harry stepped up onto the spiral staircase and let it swirl around and bring him up to the level the Headmaster’s office was on. Idly, he wondered what was up on the level above that as he’d never gone past the office. Before he could guess beyond that it was his private rooms, he reached to door and the stairs stopped moving.


“Come in Mr. Potter.”


The door swung open at the sound of the Headmaster’s voice and Harry stepped inside. As always when he came here, he was bemused and amazed at all of the myriad gadgets and knickknacks stored about. The Headmaster’s office was not one single room, but a series of them. The first room was lined with glass fronted cabinets that held a multitude of books and enchanted items. In the middle of the room was a round table that held other small items and seemed to mark the constellations of the night sky. Beyond that was a smaller room that held the Headmaster’s desk and files. The walls in there were lined with portraits of former Headmaster’s.


There was a door leading off into another area that Harry had never seen and in the front room was a staircase that led up to a second level. Harry could see from the ground floor that there was a large telescope up there, but what else was there was unknown. Harry suspected that there was a private potion or alchemy lab up there somewhere and perhaps a library or two.


Professor Dumbledore stood by his desk and was waving Harry forward, but he didn’t get very far as a questioning trill caught his attention. Turning his head he saw Fawkes sitting on his perch and looking at him in amusement, his brightly feathered head tipped at an alarming angle. Unable to stop himself, Harry stepped over to the perch and reached out to run one paw down the beautiful bird’s head and neck.


“’Lo, Fawkes.”


Fawkes trilled at him, a soothing and questioning sound that ended in a definite coo. Harry rumbled at purr right back at him.


“Yeah, it’s really me in here. But don’t you worry; Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall have a plan to fix me up. It might take a little bit, but I’ve already started working on it.”


Fawkes trilled again, a happy sound that lifted his spirits and unconsciously pulled another rumbling purr from his chest.


A soft chuckle sounded behind him and Professor Dumbledore stepped up close and reached out to run one hand down the side of Fawke’s neck gently.


“There are times when I am tempted to do nothing beyond petting Fawkes’ soft feathers and enjoy listening to the sound of his voice trilling and cooing. He sings so lovely and enjoys the attention.” The hand shifted from Fawkes to Harry’s shoulder and gave a soft squeeze. “Unfortunately, time and events move forward even if we wish otherwise. We have much to do today, Harry.”


Harry nodded and gave one last pet along Fawkes’ head before pulling back his paw. “I’ve got to go now Fawkes, but I’ll see you some other time. Okay?”


Fawkes cooed at him and he purred back, before turning and following Professor Dumbledore across the room towards his desk.


“You know Sir; you might want to ask Fawkes to sign to Ron for a little bit.”


“Oh?” Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Harry, a little smile tugging at his beard.


“Well…” Harry reached up to scratch at his chin, “I always seem to feel better after being around Fawkes. And Ron’s been having a tough time of it. The wounds on his arms and face are healing, but I think that he’s still having nightmares even though he’s in a coma. Fawkes’ might be able to let him sleep a bit more peacefully.”


Dumbledore paused a moment considering, “You might be right. Fawkes has a remarkable ability to bring out joy and happiness in a person, so even if it doesn’t help it certainly couldn’t hurt.” He hummed a bit and tugged gently at his beard. “I will ask him if he would be willing to visit young Mr. Weasley in the Infirmary.”


“Thank you, Sir.”


Professor Dumbledore nodded and then reached out with one hand to Harry’s shoulder and guided him past the desk and towards the door he had never been beyond. It opened with a wave of the old wizard’s hand and they stepped through it.


The room itself was a large conference room, with a long large table in the shape of an oval. Leather chairs sat around the table and in the center of it there was a stone bowl with intricate carvings around it. The walls held framed portraits, large maps of the school, the Ministry of Magic, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and all of England. There were several bookcases filled with books, pigeon holes filled with tightly wrapped scrolls and display cases that help a wide variety of interesting magical objects. Against the far wall was a stunning golden statue of Fawkes.


“Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix.”


Harry had barely any time to take in the room or Professor Dumbledore’s words when Sirius stood up from his chair, dashed over to them and engulfed Harry in a tight hug. For a long moment, Harry allowed himself to revel in the sense of family and home, of loving and being loved in return. Then Sirius’ hold on him loosened and the older man stepped back.


For the first time since the debacle at the Department of Mysteries, Harry was able to get a good look at his godfather. The man seemed tired and his eyes were drawn. He was thin, but nowhere near the emaciated state that he had been at the end of Harry’s third year or the beginning of his fourth. His skin was still pale, but his hair was neatly cut and combed and his clothing was outdated, but clean and neat.


Far and away the worst part was his right arm and wand. From just above the elbow and all the way down to the tip of his wand, Sirius’s arm was a ghostly blue outline that radiated the cold of the grave, instead of solid flesh and the warmth of life. Harry reached out a paw and tried to touch the glowing hand. His paw went through it and it was as if being dunked in a bucket of ice water.


“Sirius?...”


The older wizard swallowed hard and gently led Harry over to the table and helped him sit in a chair next to his own.


“I…I want to thank you, Harry. You saved me from death.” He shrugged and his haunted dark eyes flitted down to his ghostly arm. “Well, mostly.”


“I don’t understand.”


“You have to realize, Harry.” Professor Dumbledore’s voice jerked his attention to the head of the table where he stood before his own chair. “The Veil, that stone archway that Sirius nearly fell through, is a doorway between this world and the afterlife. Beyond the Veil lies the Realm of Death and all who pass through it leave their lives behind them.”


He made a vague gesture and Harry was only mildly aware that others were gathering and sitting around the table as well. Instead, his attention was riveted on the Headmaster.


“When Sirius began to fall, his arm slid into the Veil, the Realm of Death. Your spell to pull him towards you literally snatched him out of Death’s arms and back into the world of the living. Sirius lives, yes. However, his arm did cross that most dread barrier and as such he must now live and adapt to having a part of him in the Realm of Death.”


Harry turned stricken eyes on his godfather.


“It’s not so bad, Harry.” Sirius voice was light, but his eyes told a different story. “I’m always cold, sure…but I can now hold and use those things limited to ghosts. Plus, I can still cast spells with my wand. They affect the living and dead alike.”


Harry didn’t even think, he just pulled his wand and snapped off a heating charm at his godfather. The man sighed in what seemed to be relief and relaxed tense muscles a bit.


“Thank you. That feels lovely.”


A snort of surprise sounded out and Harry turned to finally see who else was there. Mad-Eye Moody sat across from Harry while Remus Lupin was sitting at his other side. Next to Moody sat Professor McGonagall and on the man’s other side sat Kingsley Shacklebolt.


“I never thought of doing that.” It was Moody that spoke. “The old dog’s been complaining how his arm is always cold and making him cold too.” Another huff of smothered laughter. “And all it took to fix it was a heating charm.”


Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and everyone turned to look at him. He smiled down and turned to face Harry.


“As I said when we first stepped into this room, welcome to the Order of the Phoenix. The Order was first started a long time ago by a great and powerful wizard that wished to create a cohesive defense of the local population against the Dark Lord of that time who had been ravishing the land.” He gestured around the room at everyone. “The current incarnation of the Order is not all here, of course, but everyone at this table is a member.”


“I first joined the Order during the war against Grindlewald and then became the leader during the rise of Voldemort. Now that he is back, I have reactivated the Order and called the members together to help to thwart his cause.” Dumbledore turned a serious look at Harry. “I would like to invite you to join and perhaps in time, your friends as well.”


“I…um…” Harry wasn’t sure what to think. This wasn’t anything like he had expected to talk about this afternoon.


“I’ll be totally honest and admit that I hadn’t planned to bring you in just yet. I had originally planned to allow you to wait a bit, to let you finish growing from a child into a man, but Voldemort is forcing the issue and has taken that choice from me.”


“He’s obsessed with me.” Harry hadn’t even realized he’d spoken at first until he saw that everyone was staring at him. “I didn’t notice it at first, but for some reason he focuses his attacks on me. Even before he had his new body, he was obsessed with me.”


Sirius reached out with his living hand and gripped Harry’s paw tightly in support even as Dumbledore sighed sadly and nodded.


“It’s the Prophecy, isn’t it?”


Everyone sucked in a gasp of air except for the Headmaster. He simply nodded, his face seeming to be so old and sad.


“Yes. Unfortunately, you are correct. The Prophecy has named you as Voldemort’s enemy and he will stop at nothing to see you defeated.” Dumbledore looked down at the table. “I had hoped that he’d hold back long enough to see you grow up more, but…”


Dumbledore’s head snapped up and suddenly he didn’t seem old or tired or sad, instead he radiated strong magic and determination that filled the room with his presence.


“The time has come for you to put away childish things and games. Instead, you must focus on honing your magic to its greatest potential. You must learn everything that we can teach you to help you prepare for what is coming. And make no mistake about it, for it is war that will soon engulf our world. Voldemort will insist on it and he will focus that war at you.”


Harry gulped loudly, a rumbling growl that was half whine echoing in his chest. He clenched his paw around Sirius’ hand, trying to take comfort in it.


“For the first two weeks after the end of year, you will stay here at Hogwarts. Both Professor McGonagall and myself will work with you to help you learn to control the animagus transfiguration. During this time, Sirius, Remus, Alistair and young William Weasley will be working hard to make Sirius’ family home more habitable.”


Sirius nodded his head, “The Black family has traditionally been a Dark family. A lot of the problems that we had cleaning the house and keeping it that way is due to the fact that more than half of the building itself holds curses and hexes on it. Plus, it’s filled with a lot of Dark objects and things better to be destroyed.” Sirius nodded at both Lupin and Moody. “Remy and I will be going around casting detection spells and then putting wards around anything Dark or dangerous. Then Bill and Mad-Eye will come around behind us and break the curses or dispose of the dangerous stuff.”


“Indeed,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Hopefully it won’t take too long to finish such a project, but in either event at the end of two weeks, you will be allowed to leave Hogwarts. At that time you will go to 12 Grimmauld Place to stay. By that time I will have wards up which will confound the Ministry’s underage magic detectors allowing you to practice your magic there.”


Harry perked up at that.


“Make no mistake,” Professor Dumbledore’s voice was serious. “There won’t be time for fun and games; you will be expected to work very hard at learning very advanced magic. I do not bend the laws lightly and expect you to appreciate that fact.”