DISCLAIMER: See Ch. 1.

A/N: Good thing I cut out all the supposed-to-be-nice drivel with the Dursleys! Yech!

Here, please, just read it before you accuse me of killing Harry! (The author ducks as various objects meant to hurt him are thrown at him.)

CHAPTER 14: PAST ACTIONS AND FUTURE ANIMAGI

Noli barbum vellere mortuo leoni. Do not pluck the beard of a dead lion. –Martial, Epigrammata (10.90.9f)

Dinner was a silent affair at number 4, Privet Drive. Dudley was eating less than his new "usual" amount of food. By fixing his health, he was able to be satisfied on far less food than he had grown up craving. All three Dursleys had mixed reactions; Harry had helped them see justice dealt to that Umbridge woman, and now their unique relative was hovering somewhere between life and death.

Unbeknownst to the male Dursleys, Petunia had secretly bought a "get well soon" card at the stationary store and addressed it to Harry. Now all she needed was an owl to deliver it.

Strangely, no sooner had she thought that than a snowy owl had soared downstairs from the boy's room. Petunia recognized it as the boy's owl. Normally, Vernon would rant about owls, but he just glanced at it. The owl hooted, and gave Petunia the note clutched in its beak. It said, "Meet me at the front door. Albus Dumbledore."

A little confused, Petunia got up to open it, and sure enough, the white-haired wizard stood on the threshold, wearing dark blue robes. "Come in," she said. Hedwig hooted loudly and flew over to settle herself on Dumbledore's shoulder. Seating himself at the table, he got down to business. "While we should be happy, it seems that Umbridge has managed to ruin things and endanger people's welfare once again."

"Are you absolutely sure that she doesn't work for Lord What's- His-Face?" Petunia asked.

"No, but the way she acts, you would think that she does," Dumbledore said darkly.

"Why are you here?" she asked, sensing a darker reason for the wizard's presence.

"The main reason I'm here is to offer my extra protection against anyone who might want to harm you."

Vernon huffed. "So now we might be target's just because we're the boy's relatives?"

Dumbledore decided to ignore his regression in attitude. "The entire murder of an enemy's family is not unprecedented in history. We will have extra protection and surveillance in place. Don't worry, we won't infringe upon your privacy, of course," he added. "I'm sure Harry won't want anything to happen to the relatives he's beginning to bond with." He smiled, and was out the door before they could deny any such thing.

~*~*~*~

Several hours had passed at St. Mungo's, and the Healers were still desperately battling death in order to save their patient's life. Normally, the hospital only dealt with magical maladies and injuries (as the full name implied), so they agreed to move him to the floor that dealt with Artifact Accidents, even though the boy had been deliberately harmed using a Muggle weapon. The first hour was devoted to trying to extract the bullet with the least amount of damage done to the patient, and even after that, they were still injecting him with Blood Replenishing Potions, since he had lost so much already, and his blood vessels still needed to be repaired after being ruptured by the bullet. All in all, the teenage boy was unconscious the whole time. One person on the side was watching the whole time, forbidding himself from falling asleep: Severus Snape.

He had just gone down that hallway to make sure the coast was clear before escorting the student witnesses back to Order headquarters, and moments later, he heard two gunshots. He rushed back only to hear a third and to see Harry fall backwards with a bullet lodged in his chest. Snape caught the boy just in time before he hit the ground. He dashed off to St. Mungo's after telling McGonagall to find Dumbledore and tell him what happened. He Floo'd and ran to the ward at the hospital as though both their lives had depended upon it. People gaped and gasped when they saw a heavily cloaked figure carrying a heavily bleeding Harry Potter. (Snape couldn't risk sacrificing his spy role sooner than he had to.) The Healers got him onto a stretcher and levitated him off, with Snape right behind him, explaining the situation. They were all aghast at Umbridge's latest atrocity, and would have ranted about it if her victim wasn't bleeding to death right in front of them.

After they had gotten Harry onto a bed, Snape went over to the nearest sink to wash off the blood when something occurred to him. Lily's protection ran in Harry's blood. Voldemort had accidentally transferred some of his abilities into Harry. Voldemort had circumvented Lily's protection the night he returned. If Snape could find a counter weapon to Voldemort's newest line of defense...! Snape quickly took out a small crystal vial and sampled Harry's blood for later before washing the rest of it off his hands.

At this point (several hours after they arrived), Snape decided to step out for a breath of fresh air, and maybe some black coffee. No sooner than he had shut the door to the ward than he had gotten mobbed by reporters from various media outlets, ranging from the Daily Prophet to Witch Weekly. "How is Harry doing?" "Will the Boy-Who-Lived pull through once again?" "Will we be able to see him at this point?"

"SILENCE!" Snape roared. They were about as easy to intimidate as his first year students. "I don't know, I don't know, and I doubt they'll allow you to see him, considering he's unconscious and they're still trying to keep him alive even as we speak." He turned on his heel and swept back inside before they could badger him any further. 'Now I can see why Harry hates the press so much,' Snape mused. Just then, something was growing warm in his pocket. It was a small marble carving of a phoenix, enchanted with a Protean Charm. It had gone from white to red; this meant that he had to return to Order headquarters (the carving would turn different colors as part of a code, each color representing a different command). Casting one last concerned glance at Harry, he dashed out of St. Mungo's and Apparated to Grimmauld Place.

~*~*~*~

Snape had expected Order HQ to be in an uproar when he returned. Surprisingly, it was almost silent. As Snape entered the kitchen (also known as the War Room when it wasn't during mealtimes), he heard some dialogue coming from a wizarding radio everyone was gathered around.

"HARRY POTTER IN CRITICAL CONDITION"

"Good evening, everyone, I'm Gil Marconi for WWN. I'm live at St. Mungo's where several hours later after Umbridge's trial, 15-year-old Harry Potter is still in a critical life or death situation. It seems when Umbridge tried to get away after being sentenced to 25 years in Azkaban, she stole a Muggle gun from Harry's Muggle relatives, who were trying to stop her, and shot the Boy Who Lived right in the chest below his ribs. You heard me right, ladies and gentlemen, he was SHOT by Umbridge, and is currently unconscious and loosing a lot of blood. We tried to get a comment from a tall man in black robes minutes ago, but he was unable to answer our questions and nearly scared us off." (Snape smirked at this.) "Supposedly, he is the one who bought him here all the way from the Ministry building. We are still waiting for a comment from the Healer in charge, Jonas Cogsworth- wait, here he is now! Mr. Cogsworth, can you please tell us how our hero is doing right now?"

"We were able to extract the bullet from his chest without causing much damage if any, and we're still trying to mend the blood vessels that ruptured when the bullet struck him, so it may be another hour or so until we can regulate his blood flow again. From what I've heard from the Hogwarts nurse, he's a tough survivor and a quick-recovering patient who's been through enough injuries to rival this cowardly, vengeful assault. Well, I'd better get back to work if I'm to help my patient."

"There you have it, witches and wizards, our tough young wizard is fighting for his life. He's been battling both grief and physical trials over the course of the past week, and he still has a lot more to endure. We all must hope that the pulls through, especially in dark times like these when he might be needed. For WWN, I'm Gil Marconi, good night." (1)

Cho sighed and stood up. "I have a name for thy pain, and that name is Umbridge." She pulled out her wand and blasted the radio to pieces. (2)

"Guess who the man in black robes was," Snape said, moving out of the shadows, causing them all to jump.

"Very amusing, Severus," Dumbledore said with that twinkle in his eyes. "Harry's friends were all helping Mr. and Miss Lovegood prepare tomorrow's special edition of The Quibbler; it seemed to give them something to do."

Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ginny, and Cho had obviously all been crying; Ron and his brothers just sat there, staring aimlessly in front of them; the rest of the Order members were muttering amongst themselves. However, Fudge and Madame Bones were working furiously at the Ministry, trying to iron out security issues and the sort, namely how Umbridge had wrestled off the Aurors like that.

"I hope Harry doesn't die," Neville sniffed.

"He won't," Snape automatically said. He didn't elaborate any further, so they simply stared at him.

Suddenly remembering something, Snape left the room and went into Harry's room, which he was still sharing with Ron before the attack. He found the book on general Animagus training. Carefully marking the page Harry had left it open at (still about halfway through the L's), he took the book with him and sought out Dumbledore downstairs. "Albus?"

"Yes, Severus?"

Taking out the vial, he handed it to Dumbledore. "I decided to save some of Harry's blood. If we can reestablish Lily's protection..."

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to brighen in intensity. "An excellent point. I will store this away for safekeeping. Thank you, Severus."

"It's my job, Albus."

~*~*~*~

Back in his private quarters at Hogwarts (it was easier to stay at the castle than at his own manor in times like these), Snape was about to get some sleep when he remembered the passage on ravens. He picked it up and read it.

Ravens by nature are cunning and intelligent birds. Though diurnal, they can easily blend in with the night and can be very covert and sneaky in their actions, like spies. Over the centuries, there were rumors and reports of wizards who were spies, and had trained ravens to deliver cryptic messages to each other, since their adversaries would be more concerned with looking out for owls bearing messages.

'Sneaky, cunning, intelligent, spying... just like me,' the Potions Master thought, somewhat amused.

Snape had obviously endured much stress over the course of the day, so maybe that contributed to the strange dream he had that night. He was on his bed in his manor from when he was a child, and his mother was saying "You know what you must do, my little raven. Good luck." She opened the window, and he was flying through it, out into the sunset. It got dark, and he landed on the yew tree in the graveyard where Voldemort's father lay buried. Voldemort called forth his Death Eaters, giving them commands and battle plans. After they all Disapparated, Snape flew back towards Hogwarts, the sun had just made it over the horizon as he flew into Dumbledore's office. While crossing the room to find Dumbledore, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He was a bird with sleek black feathers, black eyes, and a sharp beak...

~*~*~*~

The next morning, witches and wizards all over the country woke up to the shocking headlines. The Daily Prophet claimed that Harry was just floating somewhere near death's door; Witch Weekly published some doubtful woes about Harry's health and the possibility he would end up as a kind of martyr ("drama queens," Hermione snorted); and Teen Witch Weekly had put sort of a praising spin on it, making him out to be a sort of "heroic heartthrob," in an article entitled "HARRY POTTER: WEEK OF STRUGGLE," spanning the confrontation with Umbridge in Diagon Alley, Sirius Black's memorial, and Umbridge's trial. The Quibbler had been the most accurate, of course, and the payoff was proving it. Luna announced that a portion of the profits would go to trying to heal Harry. "After all," she said, "It would be like making money off someone else's problems."

Hermione smiled for the first time since the trial. "Thank you, Luna."

Cho joined in. "Either way, you wouldn't have been making a fortune of his misfortune; you didn't cause that to happen, Luna."

"I know, but still..." Luna sighed.

At this point, Tonks burst into the room, nearly falling over in her rush, with a grin on her face. "Good news, everyone! The Healers say that Harry should be waking up this afternoon! We'll go after lunch!"

The room erupted with cheers. Hermione and Ginny were hugging each other, Mrs. Weasley was wiping her eyes with her apron, and Bill had to restrain Ron from getting up onto the table to join Fred and George a victory dance.

~*~*~*~

Harry was walking along a red path, surrounded by golden mist. He began to walk in the random direction he chose... and then he noticed a solitary figure up ahead of him. As he got closer, the figure became more distinct. He was a handsome man of about 30-40 years of age, with dirty blond hair and beard, which were the color of raw gold and dark brown eyes. He wore dark red robes, and held a pointed hat in one hand and a silver sword with embedded rubies in the other. Harry could immediately guess who this man was: Godric Gryffindor.

"Hello, Harry Potter," said the Founder of Harry's house, addressing the boy as though he were his equal.

"Hello, sir," Harry responded, unsure as what to say.

"Harry, you have been thrown into the eye of the storm in one of the biggest, darkest conflicts in Wizarding history," Gryffindor continued in a sort of manner that reminded Harry vaguely of Dumbledore. (3) "In all seriousness Harry, you cannot escape your destiny. If Voldemort kills you, it will be the beginning of the end. You must defeat him when you get the chance, but only after you have trained substantially. Otherwise, if you rush into battle, you will be signing everyone's death warrants, starting with your own."

Harry nodded silently.

"One powerful move would be to become an Animagus."

"I know, sir, but I still haven't found the right kind of animal yet."

At this point, a copy of Harry's Animagus book materialized in front of him and opened up to the spot where he last left off, at the next entry he would have read next. It was a passage on lions.

Lions represent bravery, nobility, and selflessness. A proud symbol for righteous soldiers and those who fight evil, it is said that Godric Gryffindor and his descendants had an affinity for them, although someone not related to this Hogwarts Founder could also have a liking for these noble cats. Some cultures have even trained pet lions as bodyguards the way some people use guard dogs.

A lion. That sounded perfect. "Thank you, sir."

"I look forward to seeing you again, Harry, in another way, and next time you might be able to meet my friends."

Before Harry could say anything else, the dream dissolved; he was falling through space, and suddenly he felt as though he were lying down in bed.

Harry slowly opened his eyes. It was blurry yet again; obviously someone had taken his glasses off. Automatically reaching for his bedside table, he found his glasses and put them on. He found himself in a ward with a few other patients, all of them still asleep. Something, maybe common sense, told him he was in St. Mungo's. He was wearing a set of pajamas similar to those Mr. Weasley wore last winter after the snake attack; so that settled it, he was in St. Mungo's.

Then it all came back to him. The reason he was here. Images and memories flashed through his mind. Umbridge... the gun... pain... falling... Sirius?

With much hesitation, he lifted up his pajama top and found a giant bandage beneath his ribs, along with a white cloth that ran the circumference of his torso, holding the bandage in place. He shuddered. That awful woman had nearly killed him!

He felt dizzy from all the blood loss and fell backwards onto his pillows. Someone said, "Ah, I see you're awake now."

Professor Snape walked in, locking the door behind him. As he pulled up a chair, Harry asked, "What happened? I remember falling backwards."

"I went down that hallway to make sure there weren't any traps before escorting you and your friends back to headquarters," Snape explained, careful not to say "Order of the Phoenix." "I caught you just in time before you hit the ground."

Harry looked shocked. "Thanks for saving my life... again. In case you're wondering, I didn't realize it was you who caught me."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Who did you think it was?"

Harry rubbed his eyes. "My vision must have been really blurry. I thought it was Sirius I saw."

The professor nearly burst out laughing; he had been much more tolerant of mention of Sirius after the reading of his will. Harry seemed to loosen up a little after this.

"I spent several hours here trying to make sure you were all right. I eventually had to vent out some frustration by scaring off several incessant reporters."

"Thanks again. Also, I was wondering about how this would effect my training."

"Well, it's nice to see your devotion to your studies hasn't been wounded as well. Your friends have been particularly worried. They even wanted to reform last year's Defense group you started, although the Headmaster has asked that you change the name from 'Dumbledore's Army.'"

"I was thinking 'Order of the Stag.'"

"I can see why you would name it that. I also noticed there were no Slytherins in your group."

"No offense, sir, but I was afraid that somehow Draco Malfoy would get wind of it."

"I can give you a list of Slytherin students who aren't involved with the Dark Lord. Not all Slytherins are evil by default, Harry. The bad reputation of all the Dark witches and wizards being former Slytherins has just given it that appearance."

"Hagrid told me about Slytherin's bad rep the day I met him. The thought of being placed in the same house my parents' murderer and his followers wasn't very reassuring."

"Dumbledore told me how you begged the Sorting Hat not to put you in Slytherin. Trying to persuade the Sorting Hat at all is considered practically impossible. All the different houses have their pros and cons. While Gryffindors are brave and noble, I've found them to be reckless and impulsive at times. At best, Slytherins are ambitious, cunning, resourceful, and determined. I've seen in the past how ambition can lead to evil, in cases like the Dark Lord."

Harry nodded, and then remembered something. "Er, I know Professor Dumbledore said this was a matter between you and him, but if you don't mind me asking, why did you switch back to our side."

Snape thought about this for a moment. He was unsure about doing this, but he owed Harry the truth- or at least part of it, anyway. "I suppose maybe I should start with the reason I even joined him in the first place. Before he ditched his name 'Tom Marvolo Riddle,' and before he started looking that ugly-" Harry grinned, "-he was a sort of business associate with my father, during my years before I went to Hogwarts. From last year's Occlumency lessons, you may remember seeing how terrifying he was. Anyway, Riddle protected me from my father and tried to help me out. What I didn't realize was that he was trying to turn me into a tool for him. For several months after I graduated, I worked as Death Eater for him. However, he trusts no one completely, so I didn't know everything that was going on. It was only when he asked me to spy on someone I had trusted and liked in school that I realized he was manipulating me from the moment I first met him. I became a spy for Dumbledore, who understood my remorse and guilt, and I did my best to protect my former school friend and her family, since they were very important to Dumbledore.

"While some people, mainly Gryffindors, see the world only as good or evil, like the way someone would compare black and white, Slytherins, on the other hand, look more carefully at the layers of gray in between. Just because we support one cause at present, it doesn't mean we always will in the future. My life as a spy can show that. I try to be as slippery as possible in my work. I act like water; I try to take on the shape of my container."

In his explanation, Snape decided to omit the fact that Lily Evans Potter was the school friend. He couldn't reveal that to Harry just yet, for personal reasons. "Anyway," Snape said, "Before I inform your friends that you're awake, I feel you should know that I went into that explanation in return for that letter. I still have a career as the fearsome Potions Master to maintain."

"Of course," Harry said respectfully.

"I also have your book on Animagus basics, and I marked your spot," he added, handing the book back to its owner.

"Thank you." Snape was at the door when a thought occurred to Harry. "Professor, do you have a liking for ravens?"

Snape was at the door when he was caught off guard by this question. "What makes you ask that?"

Harry shrugged. "The night you had to run to that meeting-" (Harry said this rather cryptically because the other patients in the ward were starting to wake up) "-I found my book open to the spot."

'Very observant,' Snape thought. "I did at one point," he half- lied. He couldn't reveal his own secret plans to Harry just yet. "Oh, and one other thing-" he looked around, kept his voice low, and whispered, "Lupin was hoping to try and become a wolf Animagus and train with you while you try to become the animal of your choice." And with that, he glided out of the ward, his black robes billowing behind him.

To pass the time before his friends showed up, Harry thumbed to the part he last left off at: The passage about lions. He did a double take after finishing what he had just read.

Lions represent bravery, nobility, and selflessness. A proud symbol for righteous soldiers and those who fight evil, it is said that Godric Gryffindor and his descendants had an affinity for them, although someone not related to this Hogwarts Founder could also have a liking for these noble cats. Some cultures have even trained pet lions as bodyguards the way some people use guard dogs. (4)

(End of Chapter 14.)

A/N: Sorry if Harry and Snape starting to be civil is too OOC or whatever, but if I change that, it'll throw my whole story out of whack.

(1) The symbolism with these names came from different scientists who invented and/or discovered stuff (and no, I did not get "Cogsworth" from that movie "Beauty and the Beast;" it was just a coincidence). Anyway, can you guess which scientists' names I'm alluding to? If you guess correctly, I just might have something for you... (wink wink)

(2) This line was taken from something the Joker said in the first "Batman" movie; it just seemed appropriate for this occasion, not to mention fitting, too.

(3) For the next several chapters or so, I'll be leaving these tantalizing hints as to the possible identity of Gryffindor's Heir, so please pay close attention!

(4) Did you notice how Harry saw this passage from the book before he even saw it in waking life?

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