DISCLAIMER: See
A/N: (The author sighs in exasperation.) My story really got set back with what happened. Sometimes, I feel so frustrated that I just want to give up and walk away from this, but I don't. Why? Because everyone wants to continue reading this, and because I want to finish what I started and not let my creation die in my mind. Even though Khadon sent me all his saved files, there's still a good deal to fix. Even though I'm in my first semester at college, I still try to set some time aside for this. (The author sadly gets back to work.) You know what, I think Peeves could help lighten up this situation...
PEEVES: Sadistic Elowvnlig wears ladies' silk stockings and dances with a thistle in his satin ruffled panties!
(The author laughs out loud as Peeves zooms away.) Good one, Peeves! And if anyone wants the code cipher to decrypt the bold-lettered name of the the poor idiot mentioned in the code, just email me and ask for it!
Also, the idea of Harry being a lion Animagus came from Jonny English and his story, "Harry Potter and the Pride of Gryffindor." (Then again, anyone can use that idea, right?)
CHAPTER 15: SUMMER TRAINING AND A SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY
Qui paterit sanum fingere, sanus eruit. He who can pretend (to be) normal, will be normal. –Ovid, Remedia Amoris (504)
Hedwig soared into St. Mungo's bearing the card for her owner. She
was
unsure where to go when she noticed a group of people, with a raven-
haired
girl in the lead. She soared onto Cho's shoulder. "Oh, hello,
Hedwig!" Cho greeted the owl. Hedwig hooted happily. "What's this; a
card for Harry? You couldn't find him because they were preventing any
gifts
from coming in by owl without the gifts being checked over. They've
been like
that ever since that Bode guy died last winter, but they weren't
letting
anything get to Harry at all, just to be safe. Come with us!"
And
so, the group of Harry's friends made their way to the ward where Harry
was
located. Interestingly enough, it was in a ward for people who had been
in
broom crashes. The Healers explained that he had been moved to the
nearest ward
they could find on that floor.
At the door to the ward, there was a mob of reporters, every one of
them trying
desperately to get in. Healer Cogsworth was trying to keep them at bay
when he
noticed Harry's visitors. "Ah, Dumbledore and company! Come on in!"
Dumbledore and Harry's friends fought through the crowd with
difficulty,
ignoring the reporters asking them for comments. After they all made
their way
in, the Healer sealed the door with several locks and spells. "It's
been a
madhouse!" he exclaimed. "Those guys just don't give up! Anyway, Mr.
Potter is down at the end. We put up the curtains around his bed to
discourage
the photographers trying to get shots of him from the doorway. They
seem to
forget that this is a public ward. Have a nice chat." And with that,
Cogsworth
went down to see another patient.
The group eagerly made their way to Harry's bed and Mrs. Weasley ripped
back
the curtains to reveal a gently dozing Harry, sleeping on his side and
facing
the wall with his glasses still on. "Poor dear," she said sadly.
Cho bent over. "Harry," she whispered in his ear. He stirred and
muttered, "Cho? I thought you wanted to dance..."
She blushed furiously and tried to ignore the snickers from her fellow
visitors. The noise made Harry stir a little more, and his eyes
fluttered open.
"Mm?"
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed ecstatically, hugging him violently. He
winced in pain, and she let go. "Sorry," she muttered.
"Hey mate," Ron said as Harry sat upright, clutching his wound.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, it just hurts whenever I move," Harry groaned.
"That was scary," Neville said, his eyes wide.
"It was all over every newspaper and magazine, and it was even on the
radio last night," Luna stated. "The Quibbler was the most accurate,
of course, and we even donated a portion of the profits towards your
recovery."
"Thanks, guys," Harry said weakly.
"Madame Bones was so furious that with Fudge's approval, she doubled
Umbridge's sentence in Azkaban," Ginny said smugly. "Too bad the
inmates don't get mail; she'd be swamped with Howlers."
"Yeah, especially from people like those teenage girls who were crying
in
the waiting room," Cho added.
Harry was confused. "Teenage girls?"
Hermione sighed. "While the people in charge of Witch Weekly kept
spewing
out all this misery stuff, Teen Witch Weekly made you out to be a sort
of
heroic heartthrob."
Harry looked shocked. "I guess I'd better watch my back, then," he
muttered at last.
"Well," said Mrs. Weasley approvingly, "You are a
handsome young man."
"By the way," Tonks interjected to save Harry from further
mollycoddling, "At the Ministry, they're still trying to figure out how
Umbridge disabled those two Aurors like that. They'll let us know when
there
are any further developments in the investigation."
"Also, Harry," Dumbledore said, "They'll let you out in a couple
of days, and we'll continue your training then." He bent closer and
whispered in his protég's ear, "If you would like to pursue Animagus
training, please write down what kind of animal you'd like to study so
we can
get the proper books." Taking a Muggle pen and sheet of paper from his
Headmaster, Harry wrote "lion" on the paper, folded it, and handed it
back to Dumbledore with the pen. "Thank you. We'll see you the day you
leave, and Professor McGonagall will come by tomorrow with the right
books."
Harry then noticed something. "Where's Lupin?"
There was a tense moment, as everyone looked at each other. Ron shook
his head,
"He went completely berserk after Umbridge shot you, and cursed her
beyond
recognition by the time Professor Dumbledore stepped in. He was so
scary, it
made his werewolf form look almost cuddly." He shuddered. "He's just
been drifting around the house aimlessly."
They all said good-bye, while Cho told them she would catch up with
them. She
turned to Harry and said, "You have no idea how upset I was after she
did
that to you, Harry. I was so scared I would lose someone else who was
close to
me. . ." She swallowed and tried to muffle a sob.
"It's alright, I'm here," he whispered softly, and pulled gently
pulled her close. She they kissed and embraced and she left the ward
wiping a
couple of tears from her face.
Harry sat there until he realized Hedwig was pecking him. "Thanks,
girl," he said. She hooted happily and flew out, following Harry's
friends. He appreciated the card from the Dursleys, and placing it on
his
bedside table, he sat back and was left to his own thoughts.
~*~*~*~
The next day, Professor McGonagall showed up.
Harry was just
finishing up his lunch, when she arrived.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Harry said, finishing off his roast
chicken.
"Hello, Potter," she said, though her stern voice wavered a little at
seeing Harry in this state.
"Well, Potter, I certainly was impressed with your choice of
Animagus," McGonagall said with a tiny smile. "I have these books on
lion anatomy. Becoming an Animagus takes force of mind; you have to
visualize
each part of lion's body clearly in your head and focus on it. It is
best to
focus on one feature at a time. There is plenty of material here to
keep you
busy over the next couple of days. I must warn you now, Potter, that
being an
Animagus can be a painful process. Even after you master your
transformations,
you may still feel slight pain from time to time."
"Nothing new, then," Harry said seriously.
Inspired by his devotion, the Transfiguration teacher went on. "This
will
be kept confidential between the Order members and myself, so your
friends are
not to know about this. We will help you register at the Ministry when
the time
is right. Expect a test on lions when you get back to headquarters."
And
with that she departed.
Harry already knew that Animagi retained a couple of similar features
when they
become their animal forms, such as eye and hair color. People who wore
glasses
often had markings around their eyes (such as in the case of Professor
McGonagall, who had square markings around her eyes as a tabby cat),
and Harry
suspected that he might have thick black circles around his eyes from
his own
glasses as a lion.
Harry immersed himself in the books most of the time, pausing only when
he had
to eat or go to the bathroom. (Thankfully, there was a side room to the
ward
with toilet stalls in it, so he didn't have to brave the reporters who
the
Healer claimed camped out beyond the ward entrance.) With effort and
patience,
he could soon transform as easily as his father or godfather. He took
his
studies seriously, knowing Professor McGonagall's notoriety for large
amounts
of work and difficult tests.
His remaining two days was relatively uneventful, other than the fact
he had to
take vitamin supplements and Blood Replenishing Potions to build up his
strength. He chatted occasionally with other patients. One of them was
actually
the Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes; it turned out that he had fallen
for the
Wronski Feint in their previous match, but instead of crashing into the
ground,
he pulled up in time only to fly headlong into the stands. Harry
remembered
that Cho was a Tornadoes fan, so he swapped autographs with the Seeker,
and
saved the autograph for Cho when he got out.
On the morning of his release from the hospital, he woke up, ate
breakfast, and
reviewed his books one last time. He had just finished going over the
part
about the lion's claws when he noticed Lupin coming over to him,
carrying a
duffel bag. He looked sad and tired, but when seeing Harry putting his
books
off on the side, his features lit up with a sudden grin. "You look like
James going over how to become a stag. So, which animal did you choose?"
"Lion," Harry said casually. Lupin chuckled, "Your father would
have been amused at that." He swallowed and looked about ready to cry.
"I'm sorry I didn't visit, Harry," he croaked out, "Seeing you
fall backwards like that, it was like seeing Sirius die all over
again."
He buried his face in his hands. "I've been productive though," he
went on after pulling himself together, "I've been going through books
about wolves. It was a brilliant idea, Harry."
"Thanks," Harry said, "Why didn't you think of that while you
were at school?"
"I felt enough transformations when I didn't want to, during the full
moon," Lupin explained, "And being a teenager, I didn't have the kind
of energy like I do now, as a full-grown adult. Anyway, I bought some
spare
clothes for you," and he indicated the duffel bag, "and the Healer
says you can take off and throw out the bandages while you get
dressed."
Harry took the bag and changed in the bathroom. With a sick feeling, he
tore
off the bandage. A small red-pink circle was where the bullet had hit
him. Running
his hand over it, he could tell it was healing.
On the way out of the lavatories, Healer Cogsworth greeted Harry.
"Thank
you so very much, Mr. Cogsworth," Harry said so sincerely that the
Healer
glowed with pride, as they shook hands.
"I have a souvenir for you, if you want it," Cogsworth said, holding
out the bullet enclosed in a Muggle plastic bag.
"Sure," Harry said, and pocketed it. The Healer looked nervous and
said, "Er, could I please have you autograph?"
"For the Healer who saved my life? Of course," Harry responded,
signing a sheet of parchment, although normally he detested the
celebrity
thing.
Harry and Lupin were just at the door when it burst open, and a flood
of
reporters poured in. "Are you all right, Harry?" "Does it
hurt?" "Do you have anything to say?"
Quickly coming up with a plan, Lupin looked over their heads and down the hall, and exclaimed, "Look, it's Gilderoy Lockhart going up to the tea room! I think he made a full recovery!" After all the reporters stampeded up the stairs, Harry walked out of the hospital, laughing and thanking his mentor for the diversion.
~*~*~*~
Harry found everyone in the kitchen at the Order
building,
and as he walked into the room, cheers and congratulations resounded
throughout
it. The twins let off Filibuster's fireworks (their own Wild-Fire
Whizbangs
would have destroyed the place), he got hugs and slaps on the back from
his
friends, and butterbeers were spread all around. He sought out Cho and
gave her
the autograph, for which she was very gratefully and smiled one of her
most
beautiful smiles. He went up to his new room, which had been Sirius',
and
dropped his stuff off. As he took out his lion books, Professor
McGonagall
entered the room. "Congratulations on the recovery, Potter," she
said, taking out the test sheet. "I hope you studied a lot."
"Thanks, and I studied until it felt like my eyes would fall out," he
responded as he took out his quill and ink. The test took him half an
hour to
complete, since he had to fill out just about every imaginable detail
of the
lion's anatomy, literally from head to tail. When he was done,
Professor
McGonagall said, "While I check this over, please go down to Professor
Snape. He will explain what you will do."
Down in the kitchen, Harry found his Potions Professor standing next to
a
cauldron and desk. "Welcome, Potter," he said, his face and voice
neutral. "Today we will be working on an Animagus Testing Potion, and
we
will try it out tomorrow after it has settled. This potion turns
someone into
their best Animagus form for several minutes before they turn back. A
person's
best Animagus form is the animal form that best suits them; the same
way people
are best suited to a different wand. So, have you chosen a form yet?"
he
asked. (1)
"Yes, sir," Harry said, "A lion."
"An interesting choice. The instructions-" he flicked his wand
"- are on the desk, and you will have one hour. Begin."
While Snape watched him from the kitchen table, Harry worked
diligently, read
and reread every line, and checked off each step after he had done it.
Just
short of the hour, a light blue mist was simmering from his potion, and
Snape
said, "An excellent job, Potter." Harry allowed himself a smile at
that.
As it cooled down, Professor McGonagall walked into the room with the
test paper.
"An excellent job, Potter," she said, unwittingly echoing Snape, who
sneered in amusement. As Harry looked it over, the Transfiguration
teacher
said, "You mixed up the names of a couple of the bones, but other than
that, you certainly proved your knowledge." 'So I got a 48/50,' Harry
thought, 'I can do this. I can really become an Animagus!'
Lupin walked in. "Harry," he said, "Let's see what you can do
with your dueling skills. Come, we'll just practice up in Sirius' mum's
room," he grinned. So they spent the rest of the day dueling each other
and practicing, occasionally blasting holes in the walls and bed,
respectively
making them burst with plaster and feathers.
The potion was ready to try out the next morning, and Professors
McGonagall and
Snape were already there waiting for him. When the potion stopped
bubbling,
Harry ladled some into a cup. "Cheers," he said, before he drank it
down. A moment later, Harry felt a little queasy in his stomach, as
energy
seemed to shoot throughout his body. The moment after that, he was on
the same
eye level as the table. He purred; he learned that lions could breathe
while
purring. Harry prowled over to the mirror, and took a look at himself.
He was
now a six-foot long, three hundred pound lion.
The potion had worked! His mouth had extended but had no lateral movement, and opened it to find a sharp collection of teeth. With his will, he could extend and retract his claws. His body mainly consisted of golden fur, while his mane and the hair at the end of his tail were jet black like his hair, and a little unruly. His eyes were the same emerald green, and there were thin black circles around his eyes from his glasses. As he looked at his forehead, he saw the lightning bolt scar, as a pattern of dark red hair.
'Not bad,' Harry thought to himself. He tested out
his new
form further by running and jumping onto the table; his leg muscles
were very
powerful, and he had an extremely good sense of balance, thanks to his
tail,
which felt somewhat weird. There was a squeak behind him, and Harry
whipped his
head around.
Professor Flitwick came in along with Sprout and Dumbledore, and they
all did a
double take when they saw Harry. He jumped off the table and prowled up
to
them. Professor Flitwick (who was at eye level with the
student-turned-lion)
said, "Hello, Potter! I was just wondering what a lion with a scar on
his
forehead was doing on the kitchen table!"
Sprout smiled and turned to McGonagall. "So, did you make him your
House
mascot, Minerva?"
"Very funny,
Dumbledore scratched Harry behind the ears as the boy purred with
pleasure.
'That feels good!' Harry thought.
"You have a couple of minutes left, Potter, so you might want to get
your
stuff before anyone asks why the Headmaster is scratching you behind
the
ears," Snape said, allowing himself an amused smirk. Dumbledore
chuckled,
probably to mask Harry's growl.
~*~*~*~
Harry's regiment continued for the rest of the
month. During
the week, he followed a schedule practicing the sort of things he would
do in
his sixth year at Hogwarts. Mondays he worked on Transfiguration,
Tuesdays were
Charms, Wednesdays were Potions, Thursdays was Defense Against the Dark
Arts
(directed by Lupin), and Friday was his Animagus training with
Professors
McGonagall and Lupin (this was separate from normal Transfiguration as
most
sixth years didn't take Animagus training). He excelled fairly well in
all of
them, although unless he heard right one day, he could have sworn
Professor
McGonagall muttering that he was becoming an Animagus faster than Lupin
had
claimed the Marauders had done. It took the Marauders a full year to
become
expert Animagi after they were done doing their reading and research;
so how
long would Harry be done at this rate? By the last week of July, Harry
already
had the basic parts of the lion body worked out; now all he needed to
improve
was the details and the time it took to go from human and lion.
Interestingly,
Lupin was excelling almost at the same rate as Harry; since he had been
a
werewolf ever since he was a kid, he knew about some parts of wolf
anatomy all
to well. He worked tirelessly, from nine in the morning to five in the
afternoon, his training interrupted only by lunch, and his teachers
marveled at
his devotion.
Harry spent time with his friends during the weekends but didn't tell
them
about his training, especially to become an Animagus. Being a lion
could be the
best spy tool in certain cases, although his indelible scar would be a
dead
giveaway, and then his secret ability wouldn't be so secret anymore. He
unwound
with his friends, although he seemed a bit distant from Ron at times,
probably
because of the incident between him and Snape.
The night before his birthday, Dumbledore pulled him aside with a
mysterious
yet friendly wink. "I fixed your knife, Harry," he said, handing it
back to him in a case.
"Thank you, sir," Harry said gratefully.
"Also, we've been inspecting and fixing up Sirius' old motorbike, and
it
will be ready by tomorrow, and it will come with not only a helmet, but
also
with an instruction manual, which I suggest you read very carefully
first to
avoid harming yourself," the Headmaster continued with that twinkle in
his
eye. "Muggle traffic accidents are terrible."
"Of course, sir," said Harry very seriously and maturely, pocketing
the enchanted penknife.
Dumbledore handed him the instruction manual. "I imagine you want to
try
it out as soon as you can, so might as well read it tonight," he said
with
a wink.
Thanking the Headmaster again, Harry went up to his room and read late
into the
night, memorizing all the safety rules and traffic laws, eagerly
wondering how
magnificent the motorbike would be. Before he dozed off, he figured out
how to
make it fly; apparently there was a switch hidden under the dashboard.
~*~*~*~
Harry had a strange dream that night. He was
prowling
through the woods as a lion when he heard some howling off to a side.
Following
the howls, he came upon a werewolf, surrounded by a handsome stag, a
shaggy
black dog, and a scrawny rat. A tall black figure with red eyes stepped
into
the clearing, and the rat scurried behind it. With a flash of green
light, the
stag slumped dead to the forest floor. The dog bounded at the stag's
murderer,
while a second figure, this one with an insane cackle, sent the dog
flying
backwards through a veil that was hung between two adjacent trees, and
the dog
did not reappear. The werewolf howled in pain, his sad cry echoing
throughout
the forest. With a mad glint in his eye, the werewolf lunged alongside
Harry at
the murderers, and his lion claws were about to slash at the red-eyed
nemesis
when something with black feathers blocked his vision.
At this point, Harry woke up, breathing heavily. What was all that?
Harry had
read somewhere that dreams may be the brain trying to string memories
and
thoughts together; yet somehow, that didn't seem quite right.
Harry got up, feeling exhausted. He was getting ready for a shower when
he
remembered: It was his sixteenth birthday. With mixed feelings, he just
went on
to get himself ready. On his way out of the shower, he noticed
something he
hadn't seen before; his muscles were much more defined, and he seemed a
lot
stronger, possibly a combination from Mrs. Weasley's cooking and
Lupin's
dueling. Oh well, he was growing up, hardly the same little kid
anymore. 'I
wonder how much I look like my dad now,' Harry thought. Another good
thing
about burying the hatchet with Snape was that he wasn't feeling so
guilty
anymore from thinking about his father.
Harry pulled on some jeans, but couldn't find a single clean shirt
anywhere. He
had gone into the closet to find something else when he heard the
bedroom door
open and close ever so slightly, and then he heard footsteps coming
towards the
closet door. Taking out his wand, he slowly crept towards the edge of
the door,
and found himself face-to-face with...
"Cho!?" he exclaimed disbelievingly.
With that sweet innocent look on her face, she held up a parcel and
said,
"Good morning and happy birthday, Harry! I was just going to put this
in
the closet where you would find it!"
Harry sighed. "Geez, Cho, my heart was thumping that fast! Oh well,
thanks."
Cho dropped the parcel and put a hand to her mouth, giggling rapidly.
"Harry," she said, "have you been working out?"
'Crap,' Harry thought, blushing. He bent down to pick up the parcel,
and opened
it up to find a red T-shirt reading "Quidditch Is Life," in wavering
gold lettering, as a couple of players zoomed around on it. (3)
He put it on and crossed the room to examine himself in the mirror.
"Thanks, Cho," he declared, "This is excellent." He wrapped
his arms around her and hugged her. She giggled again. "So, have
you been working out?"
"It must have been the training with Lupin," Harry reasoned.
"I've been dueling half the time, blocking spells and running hard."
"You could work out with me any time, Harry," she said slyly before
laughing out loud. "Really, Harry, get a grip on yourself!" she
exclaimed as he blushed Gryffindor crimson. "The girls are really going
to
turn their heads at school, Harry," she pointed out as she calmed down
a
little, and Harry went over to shut his closet door, as well as to give
him
time to let the flush recede from his face. Before he could say
anything else,
the door burst open. "All right, Miss Chang, stop throwing yourself at
Harry and flirting with him!"
Boy and girl snapped their heads around. Mrs. Weasley was at the door,
her
hands on her hips, with a strict look on her face that could rival
Professor
McGonagall's.
"What?" Harry said blankly. Cho understood in a flash. "Oh! Mrs.
Weasley, believe me, I would never do such a thing! I was just
giving
him his birthday gift! That shirt looks good on him, don't you agree?"
she
asked, with that innocent look again on her face.
Mrs. Weasley's expression softened immediately. "I'm so sorry! I just
heard all this giggling and talk about working out! You really are a
handsome
young man, Harry! And yes, the shirt looks good on you," she beamed
approving before walking away. Cho grinned while Harry was laughing and
while
leaning onto the wardrobe door for support.
Everyone bade Harry a Happy Birthday as he walked into the kitchen.
"We'll
have something special for later, Harry," Mrs. Weasley promised. Harry
thanked her and was just drinking some orange juice when Ron came up to
him
with a smile on his face. "So, Harry," he asked casually, "How are
things with your summer training, er, working out?" He broke off
sniggering as Harry spat out the orange juice.
"What?" Harry choked.
The twins were chuckling, Ginny was trying her best not to laugh but
failing
miserably, Hermione raised a suspicious eyebrow, Lupin was cracking up,
and
Dumbledore had that twinkle in his eye. "You have that same look on
James'
face whenever he was caught off guard, thinking about your mother,"
Lupin
said, finally falling over laughing.
"How did you hear about what happened?" Harry demanded. Ron
snickered. "It's not that hard to hear her from my room when her voice
is
that loud," he said with mock innocence. "So, how are things between
you and Cho? For a moment, I thought she had been with you the whole
night." Ron's grin grew wider.
"RONALD WEASLEY!" his mother scolded, and he shrank in his chair.
"THAT WAS EXTREMELY IMMATURE OF YOU!" Ron quickly ducked under the
table, as Cho buried her face in her hands, looking extremely
embarrassed.
Harry was incensed by now. Deciding to eat back in his room, he got a
little
bit of everything onto his plate and took it with him to his room. On
his way
out, he heard Cho ask, "Could I please borrow your frying pan, Mrs.
Weasley?" Harry snickered at that.
Harry ate at his desk in his room. He was finishing his breakfast as
Snape came
in. "Happy Birthday, Potter," he said in his oily voice, although it
was somewhat devoid of his cruel manner.
"Thank you, sir," he said politely. "I can't believe Ron would
do such a thing."
"Unfortunately, people change a little and can be temperamental during
adolescence," Snape stated, "Kind of the same way you were rather
short-tempered last year."
Harry paused, and finally said, "I can't argue there."
"Anyway, Potter, I have to look for basilisk fangs in my office,"
Snape said, "Your godfather's 'treasure chest' of Potions and Dark Arts
objects was low on those." He was about to sweep out when Harry was
struck
by a sudden inspiration.
"Professor," he called out. Snape turned around, "Yes,
Potter?"
"Remember the Chamber of Secrets fiasco in my second year?" Snape
nodded. "The remains of that basilisk I killed are still down there,
and
there are plenty of teeth." The Potions Master's eyes went
wide.
"I'll lead you down to it and even help you pull out its teeth, if
you help me prank Ron for what he did just now."
Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, a shadow of a devious grin
appeared on
Snape's face. "I have a score to settle with Flameboy myself," he
responded. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. Even during the
Marauder's
era, I could enjoy a good prank on the rare occasion I wasn't their
target.
Even during the Weasley twins' reign as Troublemakers-in- Chief, I
could savor
a good joke as long as it wasn't my own students being embarrassed or
my
dungeons being defiled. I think your proposition of dozens of basilisk
teeth
might actually be worth the notches that my dignity will go down.
You've just
made yourself a deal, Potter. So, what's your plan?"
Harry grinned so devilishly it could have made his father cry with
pride. Snape
mentally slapped himself; 'He's on your side, Severus,' he reminded
himself.
"Tell me, Professor, do you have a camera and any ingredients for the
Animagus Testing potion left over?"
~*~*~*~
For the rest of the morning, the pseudo-Death
Eater and the
Boy Who Lived worked together, the latter working on another Animagus
Testing
potion, the former working on the antidote, which was much more
complex. When
they were done, Harry lent Snape his Invisibility Cloak, which he hid
under
with a camera at the ready. A half-hour before lunchtime, Harry called
in Ron,
Hermione, and Cho. The three of them came in, all bickering at each
other.
"Ron," Harry said with a pained look on his face, "I know what
you said earlier wasn't the best thing to say, and I just wanted to let
you
know that you're forgiven. Here," he went on, taking out two full
butterbeer bottles and handed one to his friend, "A peace offering."
Ron looked at the bottle suspiciously. "Is this a trick?" he asked.
Another benefit of making peace with Snape was learning the art of
concealing
facial emotions from the Death Eater-turned-spy. "No," he said so
convincingly that Snape was almost proud, "I'll tell you what; I'll
even
drink it first." Unbeknownst to Ron, though, the contents in both
bottles had been charmed to look, smell, and taste exactly like
butterbeer; it
was a trick he learned from Professor Flitwick, where Charms could be
used on
objects to fool the human senses.
"To friendship," they toasted, and after Harry swallowed his
contents, Ron did the same. Ron looked queasy for a moment, and a
second later,
a fox with fiery red fur, blue eyes, and dark red freckles on his face
was
standing where the youngest Weasley son had been.
Cho laughed and Hermione hugged him, gushing, "Aw, how cute!"
Snape then burst out from under the cloak, taking pictures with the
biggest
sneer ever on his face. "Say 'cheese,' Flameboy!" Harry and the girls
laughed even harder, and as Snape chased Ron out of the room, the
remaining three
followed in hot pursuit. As they entered the kitchen, Harry took in
everyone's
reactions at the ongoing hunt. Dumbledore was smiling with that twinkle
in his
eyes, McGonagall was doing her hardest not to laugh, Lupin snorted
while
banging the table with tears leaking out of his eyes, Ginny was
giggling madly,
the twins were howling with laughter, Ron's parents were holding onto
each
other for support while laughing heartily, and Hagrid's booming laughs
were
making the cutlery jump on the table. All the while, everyone's
reactions
escalated as they saw Snape chase fox-Ron with a camera.
When Ron was back to normal, his face was, if possible, redder than his
hair.
He stared at Harry, looking ready to kill. "You... you..."
Harry had an amused expression on his face, and calmly arched an
eyebrow.
"Yes?"
Trying his hardest to keep himself calm, Ron asked, "How is it you
didn't get changed into an animal?"
"Because I ingested the antidote before I took the Animagus
Testing
potion!"
Ron seethed. "How is it you got away with doing that to me!?"
"Well, let's see, it wasn't immature, which is probably why your amused
parents didn't intervene like when you made that rude crack about Cho
and
myself," Harry smoothly countered. Realizing what Ron said, Harry
added,
"On second thought, we're both even now anyway, so you can just drop
it."
Snape decided to break up the fight by walking over to Harry and giving
him the
photos. "I did my part, Potter," he sneered, maintaining his
reputation as much as he could. "Time to fill in your end of the
bargain."
"Of course," Harry said. "So, how are we getting to
Hogwarts?" As if to answer his question, Fawkes appeared, holding out
his
tail. Snape and Harry grabbed hold, and they were gone in a flash of
fire.
~*~*~*~
Once at Hogwarts, Harry went off to the entrance
of the
Chamber of Secrets, with Snape and Fawkes close behind. When they
reached the
girl's bathroom, Snape said, "Where do you think you're
going?"
Harry sighed. "The entrance is in there."
Snape looked shocked. "I never would have guessed," he said. Once
inside, Harry went over to the sink with the snake scratched onto one
of the
taps. "Open," he said in Parseltongue. The sink opened to
reveal the tunnel.
"What did you say?" Snape looked a bit unnerved.
"All I said was 'open,'" Harry answered. Bracing himself, Harry slid
down the pipe and landed on the floor, rolling out of the way just in
time to
avoid getting crushed by Snape.
"Disgusting," Snape said, sneering at the muck all over their robes.
"Scourgify." Their robes were clean again. Fawkes flew out of
the pipe, singing softly.
"Lumos." The end of the professor's wand flared. "Lead the way,
Harry."
After a few minutes of stepping on small animal bones, the wizards and
phoenix
found their way to the boulders, which blocked most of the path. They
climbed
through, and they were at another door. After opening that one, Harry
lead the
professor and phoenix inside. Snape gasped loudly.
The Chamber looked about the same as when Harry had been down there
three years
before. Lying against one of the walls was the basilisk's remains, a
gigantic
skeleton with a few bits of decayed skin.
"How did you survive?" Snape asked, while staring up at the enormous
statue of Salazar Slytherin.
"Using Gryffindor's sword, I rammed the blade into the roof of its
mouth.
One of the fangs sank into my arm above the elbow, but Fawkes was able
to heal
it," Harry explained while Fawkes trilled as though to confirm Harry's
story. He then walked over and picked up the fang, which had been lying
there
for three years, in exactly the same place where he had left it. "Maybe
I
should keep this as a souvenir, in case anyone calls me a liar," he
mused.
"In which case, we should extract any remaining venom first," Snape
said. Taking a vial out of his robes, he slid the fang into the neck of
it and
muttered "Extracto." The venom poured out of the fang and into
the vial in a matter of seconds. After plugging the vial, he conjured a
box
and, put the fang inside of it, shrunk it, and handed it to Harry, who
promptly
placed it in his pocket.
"We'll get back to that later," Snape said, as he walked over to the
basilisk's jaws. "Incredible," Snape breathed. "This will
certainly make my work a whole lot easier. Thank you, Potter. Remind me
to give
fifty points to Gryffindor at the start of the term."
"I'll take your word on that, sir," Harry said respectfully.
With a wave of Snape's wand, all the teeth fell out. He conjured a
humungous
crate, and with another wave, the fangs soared into the box. After
sealing it,
shrinking it, and after putting it in his own robes, Snape said, "Time
to
get back." Fawkes understood, and soared over to them. A moment later,
they were on their way back to headquarters with a flash of fire.
~*~*~*~
Once they reappeared in the kitchen, they were
bombarded
with questions. Harry explained everything, and they all gasped in awe
when the
fang was taken out of his box and restored to its proper size. Everyone
gaped
at it; it was a foot long! Professor Flitwick performed a couple of
tricky
safety charms, and when Harry touched the point, it didn't feel sharp
at all.
When Snape took out the crate, enlarged it and opened it, everyone
gasped even
louder. "Imagine something with that many teeth, each one that big,
coming
after you," Harry pointed out. Most of them shuddered.
"Well, I need these fangs, so I'd better get to work," Snape said
after putting the crate away again. "Thanks again, Potter, and enjoy
the
fang and photographs." After taking out a personal Order Portkey, Snape
disappeared in a flash.
"Why did he thank you!?" Ron looked outraged once again.
"Because I just helped him out and gave him something he absolutely
wanted," Harry responded casually.
"Traitor!" Ron exclaimed.
"Would it interest you to know that he promised to give fifty points to
Gryffindor at the start of the term for my help?" Harry asked him.
Ron nearly choked on his own spittle. Before anything else could be
said, Mrs.
Weasley announced that it was time for lunch.
Cho shook her head and sighed after Ron walked out. "You went through
angry phases last year, and now it's his turn," she pointed out
whimsically. "Come on, let's eat."
~*~*~*~
After lunch, Remus came over to Harry and led him outside. Knowing he was about to go into Muggle London, he put on a different shirt (the laundry had been done earlier). On the street was a sleek, shiny motorbike, one of the best-looking pieces of equipment he had ever seen. He ran his hand over its frame, taking in its glory.
"It's magnificent," he breathed.
At this point Arthur Weasley came running out.
"Harry,
I just accidentally-on-purpose made a mess in the kitchen to distract
Molly," he panted. "Also, this motorbike was made and enchanted
before certain laws were passed, so it is legal, but somehow I doubt my
wife
will care." He smiled weakly at this. "Anyway, just take a ride on it
for an hour to get the feel for it. Also, if you want to put it away,
just
press this button under the seat-" he pointed it out "-and it will
fold up and encase itself in it's own knapsack. Here," he reached into
his
pocket and took out a thin golden necklace with a ruby at the end,
shaped like
a star. "This will help us track you wherever you go. Happy
Birthday."
"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Harry said gratefully while putting it on.
"Also an opportune time for my gift," Remus said, taking out a box
and enlarging it. "Happy Birthday."
"Thanks, Remus," responded Harry while opening it. He found a sleek
helmet, painted with metallic gold with a red lightning bolt on the
front.
"It's excellent," he marveled while putting it on. "Why is
everything red and gold lately?"
"Must be a Gryffindor thing," Mr. Weasley chuckled. "My family
has been in Gryffindor for as far back as anyone can tell. (4)
Besides, it looks good on you."
"Thank you." At that point, there was screaming heard from inside the
house. It wasn't Mrs. Black; it sounded more like. . .
"Molly!" the red-headed man exclaimed, with a hint of fear in his
voice. "Just go, Harry! I'll try to hold her off!"
"And remember, Harry, no flying above Muggle traffic," Remus said
humorously. Harry nodded with a wink, gave the starter a hefty kick,
twisted
the throttle open, and revved the engine.
A screech of "ARTHUR WEASLEY!" was drowned out as Harry took his new possession for a test drive.
~*~*~*~
Harry was driving through downtown
"It was my godfather's," Harry said casually, hoping to avoid a
conflict.
"Thanks." He did so, and after liberally wiping his feet, he entered.
"Nice motorbike," his uncle commented. Harry smiled. "Thanks. It
was my godfather's. It seems that my 'flying motorbike' dreams from
years ago
weren't dreams. I would have tried out that 'special' feature already,
but I
didn't think it was safe to do it in broad daylight, you know, for
obvious
reasons." They both got the hint.
"You got the card in the hospital, right?" his aunt asked.
"Yes, and it certainly helped me out, thanks."
"Anyway, Harry," his aunt continued, "I found this the other day
while cleaning out the attic." She picked up a lock box on the kitchen
counter, and handed Harry the key. "It seems to have belonged to your
mother. She left it with me before she went into hiding with you and
your
father. I don't know what's in here, but she told me that she got it
from your
father for her fifteenth birthday, while they were both at school. She
told me
that if anything happened to them, then you should have it. I would
have given
it to you sooner if I found it sooner," she smiled apologetically.
"It's okay," Harry said, hugging her. "Thanks. I'll open it when
I get back to, er, 'headquarters.' Have a nice summer." With that, he
took
the lockbox, placed the key in his pocket, left to go back to the Order.
~*~*~*~
Harry drove back to
31/10/1980 (6)
Dearest Harry,
You are exactly three months old today. We are going into hiding, but
before we
do that, I am visiting your Aunt Petunia to drop this box off with its
contents. I know there is a traitor among us, and that you might end up
growing
up with her and her family, so I am leaving it with her in case you do
live
with them.
There was a prophecy that was made shortly before you were born, and it
might
concern you. If you know who Professor Albus Dumbledore is by now,
please ask
him about it.
I wanted the best for you, and I love you with all my heart, and I
always will.
I hope you grow up into a strong young man, with a great number of
interests,
and a great deal of heart and spirit.
As for the contents in this box, I got them from your father on my
fifteenth
birthday, and I even kept the original note he sent with them. I
figured you
might like them. How like these dark times these books are.
Good luck.
Your mum forever,
Lily Potter
Tears rolled out of Harry's eyes. He didn't even bother holding back,
even as
he started sobbing. After a while, Remus found him. "Harry? I know you
went back to your relative's house. Did they do anything wrong?" Harry
shook his head, and he showed his mentor the letter. He read it and
frowned.
The old wound of losing friends had been opened again. "It's alright,
Harry," he said, pulling his young friend into a hug. "Hey, there's a
postscript here: 'I can't tell you everything I would like in this
letter, but
at the bottom of this box, there's a slip of parchment with a code on
it. Go to
the hiding place within the hiding place, and you'll know what to do
from
there. -Lily'."
Harry dried his tears and looked at the bottom of the box after
removing four
books and an old note from within the box. "There's nothing there,"
he said. "I'll figure it out later." He looked at the books. They
were "The Hobbit" and the Lord of the Rings trilogy, in an old edition
obviously at least twenty years old. Harry remembered hearing about
these books
in primary school. He looked at the note that came with the books.
Dear Lily,
Hello and Happy Birthday! One of your roommates told me that you like
that
Muggle author J.R.R. Tolkien but you don't have any of his books. Well,
now you
do! I've heard that they're literary classics, full of adventure and
fantasy.
I've read them myself, and I can even appreciate the made-up magic
stuff
written from this Muggle's imagination. I can sympathize with Frodo and
his
friends; Sauron and the Dark Lord seem very similar, don't they? (7)
Oh, and my roommates/partners-in-crime (Sirius, Remus, and Peter)
all wish
you a Happy Birthday.
Sincerely,
Your suitor and admirer,
James Potter
Remus chuckled. "I remember when he wrote that letter," he
reminisced. "I liked those books myself." Harry put "The
Hobbit" on the side and put the remaining three books back in the box.
"Come on, let's go down to see everyone." Harry put the books back in
with the spines facing up; if he had stayed a moment longer, he would
have seen
a note fall out of "The Return of the King," with something written
on it: "4637427-465569
~*~*~*~
Throughout the afternoon, Harry unwound and caught up with what was going on (it was deathly silent because Mrs. Weasley was cleaning the house to give her time to calm down, and no one dared make a sound). When he showed off the motorbike, everyone said it was awesome. As it got late, Mrs. Weasley announced that it was time for dinner. Everyone cheered; they all knew that the red-haired matriarch had been cooking up a storm for Harry's birthday. Even after his seconds, he felt so full he wondered if he had enough room for dessert; thankfully, though, he was able to squeeze that in, too.
Afterwards, Harry was presented with a small mountain of presents.
The twins
gave him a box with samples of all of their different goods created so
far;
Tonks and Kingsley gave him both volumes of the Auror training
textbooks; Hermione
bought him a trunk like Moody's in that it had multiple locks for
multiple
magical compartments (she noticed how he had a lot of stuff to carry
these
days); Luna and her father gave him a five-year subscription to the
Quibbler;
Neville gave him a history of the first Dark War (revised in light of
Sirius'
innocence and the continued existences of Pettigrew and Crouch Jr.);
Bill gave
him an a necklace with an ankh-shaped charm, imported from Egypt, which
would
help him heal faster if he wore it; Ron (though still in a somewhat
sour mood
from earlier) got him an enchanted diary in like Riddle's in that he
could
store memories, although he wouldn't be able to possess anyone through
it
("Not that I'd want to," he said so honestly that no one doubted him
for a second); he got a book entitled "Occlumency Made Easy," from
Dumbledore; he also got a compass from Hagrid that could latch onto his
arm
like a watch; McGonagall gave him a spare pair of glasses like his own,
except
the frames were thinner (she claimed he could use another pair, given
all the
danger he would face nowadays, but when she winked at him, he
understood
immediately that they were for his Animagus form); and Mrs. Weasley
baked him a
sumptuous chocolate cake about a foot in diameter.
All in all, the evening went well, and on the way up to his room,
Neville
pulled him to the side. "Thanks for the picture you gave me for my
birthday yesterday, Harry," he said gratefully. Harry grinned; he had
made
a copy of Moody's old picture of the original Order of the
~*~*~*~
The next day was back to work for him; overall,
his birthday
went well, so he had no excuse to complain about getting back to work.
He
continued with his usual regiment, and he excelled.
One thing struck Harry as curious though. Two weeks before the start of
the
term, Dumbledore asked Harry during a study break one Friday afternoon,
"I
have a hypothetical question for you, Harry: If you were a Defense
Against the
Dark Arts teacher, would you recommend 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to
Self-Protection,' by Quentin Trimble?"
Harry was confused by the question for a moment, but said, "Honestly,
sir,
I think it's one of the best books I've ever read on the subject?"
"Well then, Harry, thank you for your honest opinion." And with that,
Dumbledore walked off humming, while he took out a box of lemon drops.
'Odd,' Harry thought, 'it's like he's going to make me the DADA teacher
next
year... Nah, even he wouldn't do that.' Shaking his head, he
went back
to his Animagus training. (10)
Speaking of which, he and Lupin were both nearly
complete
with their transformations. Professor McGonagall was very impressed,
and gave
Harry a smile that he could have sworn she never gave Hermione during
classes.
The next day, Harry went to Diagon Alley to get his N.E.W.T. level
books. Ron
and Hermione were pretty much taking the same courses as him. Harry did
a
double take when he saw the same book he recommended on the course
list. 'He
was just asking me for my opinion,' Harry reminded himself. In five
years of
knowing Dumbledore, he knew the man would rather remain silent than
feed Harry
outright lies.
That same day, Ginny and Luna found prefect badges with their
letters. Ginny
was hugged relentlessly by her parents (the twins disappeared for hours
afterwards), and Luna shared an ecstatic smile with her father. Another
special
dinner was cooked up as they all feasted (and at this point, the twins
reappeared at the promise of a meal of their mother's best food), and
the next
morning, they saw off Luna and their father for their long-awaited trip
to
His final two weeks of summer studies were the most difficult so far,
but he
passed everything. Even on the last Friday of the summer, he swore to
Professor
McGonagall that he would still practice whenever no one was watching
him.
Rising earlier than anyone else on the Saturday morning before his
return to
Hogwarts, he got up to practice after putting on his new pair of
glasses, and
within half an hour, it worked! He could become a lion at will and back
again
instantly! All the pain was worth the gain, and he prowled around the
empty
house, getting used to the feel. 'Yes, yes, yes!' Harry thought
joyously.
He had just entered the kitchen when he spotted Crookshanks. Hermione's
cat
mewed in a friendly way; he was obviously smart enough to tell this was
Harry
in the form of a lion. The ginger cat then turned and trotted into a
side room
down the hall; Harry followed Crookshanks and found two other animals
in the
empty room. One was Professor McGonagall as a tabby cat, and the other
was a
gray wolf with brown fur on his forehead, streaked with gray in a sort
of thin
pattern. It was Remus, who had also completed his own training too. His
professors transformed back, and Remus said, "What timing, Harry. Both
of
us are done at the same time."
Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. "At your rate, we expected
you
to be done by December, at the least. Also, Remus won't register with
the
Ministry either, for spy reasons."
Harry transformed back; he had long since gotten over the temporary
confusion
over the number of legs he had experienced during the course of his
training
(there had been times when he tried to stand on two legs as a lion or
on four
legs as a human, for instance), and said, "I've gotten in trouble with
the
Ministry one too many times already, mainly for things that weren't my
fault.
How about we find a way to keep the information secret from anyone
outside the
Ministry or the Order?"
Just like with his suggestion for Remus to become a wolf Animagus, it
worked.
"I'll talk to the Headmaster and the Minister, and maybe we can work it
out
this afternoon," the Transfiguration teacher said. Harry nodded, and on
his way out, she added, "Oh, and Potter, the Headmaster and Heads of
Houses will all know about your completion of your training, so please
don't
use your new ability for any trouble at Hogwarts."
Harry looked a little hurt, and said, "Of course, Professor McGonagall.
Who do I look like, my-" he broke off when he saw them both smiling
when
he nearly said the word "father." "Never mind, you know what I
mean," he finished, before walking out of the room.
Later that afternoon, Remus called for Harry to come down to the
kitchen. After
locking the door, the two new Animagi sat at the table, along with
Professor
Dumbledore and Mr. Diggory. Since he worked in the Department for the
Regulation
and Control of Magical Creatures, which also kept track of all Animagi
in the
country, he could easily get Harry's file into the Ministry's
documents. Harry
filled out the form first.
Name: Potter, Harry James
Form: African lion
Markings: Green eyes; black mane; circles around eyes (from glasses); and dark red lightning bolt scar on forehead.
There were also questions about the amount of time his training took, among other questions that were for the sake of statistical analysis, should he grant permission to the Ministry to use that information for such things. When he reached that part, Dumbledore told him, "That's enough you have to fill out, Harry, since this is supposed to all be a bug secret after all." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. So technically he hadn't broken any laws after all. "Thank you, sir, that's wonderful."
As Lupin filled out his own form, Mr. Diggory photographed Harry as
a lion.
Once the Ministry worker did the same with Lupin, they were done with
that.
That evening was an enjoyable affair, and even though Harry worked
almost the
whole summer, he could at least feel proud of what he had accomplished.
Although Voldemort was officially recognized as being active again in
the
country, he could almost look forward to this year.
(End of Chapter 15.)
A/N: Wow, almost 10,000 words! Go me!
(1) OK, I know a couple of other HP fanfics out there have similar kinds of potion for Animagus training, but hey, anyone can think up that idea, right? Besides, since the name “Animagus Testing Potion” hasn’t been used anywhere else in HP fandom to my knowledge, I guess this is legitimate.
(2) Originally, I made Professor
Sprout's first name "Samantha," because the other three Heads of
Houses have alliterated names; on the other hand, her real canon first
name is
fitting, since
(3) I got the idea for this from a baseball shirt I gave my brother once, only it says "Baseball is life." Naturally, the figures on the shirt don't and can't move. :(
(4) Ha ha, another darn hint to
make you guess at the identity of Gryffindor's Heir! (Author ducks
flying
tomatoes.)
Also, BIG thanks to Xyverz for helping me fix some mechanical details about the motorbike!
(5) I have some reason to believe that Mrs. Petunia Dursley knows more about the Wizarding world than she'd like to admit to. Think back to OotP2. First of all, she claims that she heard about dementors from Harry's parents, but even then, that doesn't sound too convincing. And when Harry says that Voldemort's back, only Petunia Dursley seems to comprehend just how horrible that can be. Just how many more secrets could Harry's strict aunt have in canon?
(6) For some reason, the Halloween before Voldemort's downfall just seemed fitting for this.
(7) Anyone else notice how a lot of things from Tolkien's universe got carried over into Rowling's universe?
Then again, hardly ANYTHING these days is original; everything had to come from somewhere.
(8) What now seems like a LONG time ago, VladTepes cracked this code and became my first beta reader. If you want to try it yourself, feel free and go for it, BUT IF YOU DO, PLEASE DON'T GIVE IT AWAY FOR ANYONE ELSE.
(9) I was actually a good guesser when I decided to make Neville a day older than Harry; it now says at the HP Lexicon that Neville is in fact a day older than Harry.
(10) I feel that this is true;
Dumbledore hasn't lied outright in canon so far.