Title: My Master's Secret
Author: LM Simpson (Kady the Red Panda)
Pairing(s): Friendship! Snowy/Tintin
Rating: K+
Warning(s): Transformation
Disclaimer: I will never own Tintin's copyrights. (But you already know that.)
Other tidbits: Written as a response for a prompt on the Tintin kinkmeme on Dreamwidth, which requested a story of Tintin transforming into a dog in Snowy's POV. In this fanfic, Tintin is a sorcerer that prefers to live as a mortal for various reasons.

0000

He begins his monthly ritual by locking the door before he starts taking off his clothes. The pants squash into an oval shape when he drops him by his bed, while the collared shirt and pullover are more erratically shaped. He is down to an undershirt and white y-briefs when he realizes that I'm in the room as well.

"Snowy," he says as he looks at the moonlit window, "Get under the bed—now."

I never get it. He's undressed and bathed around me numerous times, and I'm positive that he's seen me go against many a bush before, but he's still extremely modest when it comes to this situation. I want to whine, but instead go under the bed skirt and wait without a sound.

Under the bed I hear his remaining garments "floosh" off his body and onto the pile on the floor. He breathes deep, like he's performing yoga. Against the semi-translucent green fabric, it appears he is in a downward dog position. That is, until his spine begins to twist to a new position.

You'd think that magical biology would make it hurt any less, but it doesn't. Tintin yelps in pain as a white flash begins to fill the room, a flash so bright that it even illuminates the dark space under the bed. I close my own eyes as the yelps turn into screams of pain.

As suddenly as it started, all is calm. The captain knocks on the door.

"Tintin! TINTIN!" He yells. "Are ya alright, lad?"

A reply, something mixed between a man and a canine's, answers back. "Y-you know how it is, Captain. I always have r-really bad stomach cramps every once in a while."

"Would you like Nestor to bring you some tea or something?"

"No, I'm fine. R-really, Captain! Just… please leave me alone now!"

A grunt comes from the other side. "… Alright then, you stubborn boy. I'll let you wait this out the way you want to. Just holler if you really need me. But if this keeps happening, I would recommend that you see a doctor for it, Tintin."

It begins to sound more like Tintin again, but with a slight pained growl layered under it. "Sure thing, Captain."

When the captain is gone, Tintin says:

"Okay, you can come out now, Snowy."

When I leave my under bed cave, I do not see the master everyone is so familiar with, but a shaggy Briard the same shade of gray that Tintin's hair normally is. My shapeshifting sorcerer-reporter friend is no longer a man, but a dog.

Tintin is on his stomach and looking uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that, Snowy? You know that this is the breed that my magic thought was suitable for me to take when I was a child."

"I know," I say. "It's just so… amazing to me to see you like this, even though I've seen it hundreds of times."

Although he can transform voluntarily and as often as he pleases, he is required to acquire this form at least once a month to keep his shifting skills fresh. It is one that I see less and less over the months, especially after the reporter job got really big.

"Why don't you change more often? We could have more fun together that way."

"You know why," Tintin answers, "I don't really want to be a sorceror. I've always wanted to be able to do whatever I could without magic, because learning how to do something yourself the hard way is always worth it more than if you cheat. I want to fit in, but to also be special in my own way.

"Further, I'm just too famous now. Yes, I got my first major exposes by watching criminals in the act as a dog, but as I got better known, the risk of doing it in public just wasn't worth the danger. Imagine the tabloid headlines, Snowy! If people found out, I would be ruined!"

My ears droop before they pick back up with a thought. "But… What about the captain? Will you ever tell him? Don't you trust him enough, like you do with me?"

"No, I don't."

"Why not?"

"He's my best human friend, but you know how much of a skeptic he is on stuff like this. Plus, what if he asks me to show him a spell and I accidentally harm him… like I did with you?"

"Huh?" My mind scours for such a memory. I can't find any like it. "You never have, Tintin—hurt me, that is. What are you talking about?"

"You… Don't remember? Then again, it's been a long time by now…"

"What?"

Tintin whimpers. "Snowy, you were born a boy like I was, remember? A human boy. Think!"

I think and think. And think. I think until it physically hurts. Then, I remember, albeit very, very faintly. But I remember.

Tintin and I are on our way back home after a day of schooling. We are in the woods by ourselves; everyone else has gone far ahead of us, so it's just the two of us. I cannot recall anything but what I look like or what I wore, but Tintin is in a shirt with a torn-ended collar and patched up pants.

"Hey, Augustin! I'm your friend, right?"

Tintin blushes. "Y-yes, I guess. But please call me Tintin, …" He says my Christian name after, but it's mumbled in my mind to the point of being incomprehensible.

"Okay. Well, I got a question to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Everyone tells me that your family is full of sorcerers. Is that true?"

Tintin looks back and begins running forward.

"Hey! Hey!" I catch up with him. "If you are, I won't tell anyone! Cross my heart and hope to die, I won't! No one's going to believe me even if I did, anyway—you know how everyone says my family is full of imbeciles."

Tintin stops; I stop. He looks at me as seriously as a child can. His eyes are piercingly serious. "Cross your heart and hope to die that you won't tell?"

"Come on, Aug—Tintin! Look at all of these cuts the Champagne twins gave me today when I told them I saw the werewolf eating a sheep last night!"

He sighs, before scouting for a target. He notices an animal, probably a squirrel, and raises his arm at it. Then a tree snaps, and we hear a scream close by. Tintin jumps, and suddenly I'm in horrible pain. When the pain recedes, I'm smaller than Tintin, I feel very weird, and everything is colored like a motion picture.

Tintin is shaking and aghast.

"Oh no! What have I done?" He cries out.

As we hear some footsteps coming closer, Tintin throws my torn clothes behind a tree, grabs me, and runs towards his house.

"I'm so sorry, Snowy," Tintin says, his tail between his legs, "I'm so sorry." He begins whimpering.

"Why, Tintin?"

"I'm the reason you're a dog now. You could've been living with a wife and kids if you wanted to now, but now you're just my dog. I'm so sorry…"

"I'm not sorry. To be honest, I think I mostly forgot what my human life was like because everyone treated me so poorly. When we first met the captain, he reminded me of someone I knew, only the man I remembered was meaner. Maybe my father was a drunk and beat me. At least once I became a dog my loved ones never hurt me.

"And… Once I became a dog, I got a friend—you." I licked Tintin's face. My short tail wagged. "You'll always be my friend, right Tintin?"

Tintin's own tail starts to wag. "That's correct, Snowy. I'll always be your friend until the end of time."

He yawns. "Wow! I'm so tired now! Do you mind if I go to sleep now?"

"Not if I can cuddle next to you on the floor."

"Of course you can, Snowy. But just for tonight. You know how I prefer my bed."

"Sure. Most humans prefer their bed…"

I lie down beside Tintin. Our fur eventually makes it too hot to be right next to each other, but otherwise it feels like we are having a doggy equivalent of a sleep over.

"Good night, Tintin," I say as my eyes droop.

And then, I fall asleep, enjoying having a furry friend before he returns to the human world in the morning. The whole time I sleep there is a dog-smile on my dog-face.