Early Transformation
by Healer Pomfrey
All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.
A huge thanks to JB5391 for her absolute brilliant beta-ing!
Six-year-old Harry Potter ran as fast as he could to get away from his cousin and his friends; however, the other boys were bigger and faster than him. 'I need to get away,' he thought agitatedly, panicking like he did a few months earlier when he had somehow managed to jump onto the school roof away from the bullies.
All of a sudden, the world turned completely black for an instant. However, before he even realised it, the feeling was already gone, and he noticed that his vision had been significantly enhanced. To his surprise, he was not in the small park at Little Whinging anymore but found himself in a huge field. Dudley and his gang were gone, and the only things that he could see were the occasional tree and tall grass as far as he could see. 'I'm small,' he realised in shock, noticing that the grass was much closer to his eyes than it was supposed to be. He looked down at his body in confusion that intensified when he saw nothing but orange fur. 'Am I a cat?' he wondered in disbelief as he closely examined his limbs. He carefully tried to do a few uncertain steps on the ground. Harry found it was much more difficult to keep himself balanced on four legs than it had been on two for some reason, and after a few minutes, he lay down on the grass in exhaustion. Before he could even think about the incredible situation, into which he had managed to bring himself into this time, he drifted off to sleep.
When Harry woke up, he felt hungry. Since his aunt never packed anything for lunch for him, he hadn't eaten anything except for a small piece of dry bread with jam in the morning. He slowly made his way in the direction, in which he could see the roofs of a few houses. 'Where am I, and how did I end up as a cat?' he wondered as he slowly paddled along a quiet country road, looking for something to eat. After a few minutes, he saw a small group of children playing in a huge garden beside the road. All of them had flaming red hair, and they seemed to be around his age. Harry hesitantly made his way into the garden, still slightly unstable on his four paws.
"Aww, a kitty cat," the girl, who seemed to be the only girl and the youngest of the children, exclaimed in awe and ran over to him. "Hello kitten," she said in a gentle voice, causing Harry to let out a soft, "Meow."
"A stray cat," the oldest boy, who had followed the girl, said and gave Harry a sharp look. "It seems to be quite young and very clean for a stray cat though."
"Can I pet it?" the small girl asked, causing two of the boys, who looked to be identical twins, to laugh.
"Just do and see if it bites you..."
"... You can still try to hex it," they told her in a funny sing song.
Harry liked the children immediately. 'They are much nicer than Dudley and his friends,' he mused, absentmindedly licking his left front paw. 'She wants to pet me,' he suddenly realised, looking up in confusion and wariness. 'Why would such a nice looking girl want to touch a freak like me?'
In spite of the forewarning, he flinched back, when the girl hesitantly extended her hand and carefully began to pet him.
'Feels good,' Harry thought, unconsciously announcing his feelings by a series of loud purrs.
"It seems to like you, Ginny..."
"... But it sounds like a Muggle eckelecticity device," the twins laughed, causing the girl to glare stonily at them.
"Oh shut up you two. It's so cute," she said in awe as she listened to Harry's contented purrs. "Can we take it with us and give it some milk?"
The oldest boy nodded his agreement. "Let's see if he comes with us. He is very skinny. Maybe he is hungry."
"Come Purry," Ginny cooed as she returned to the house together with the boys.
Harry obediently followed the small group, noticing that he felt ravenous. He looked up startled, when he suddenly heard a woman's voice.
"Oh my, a small marmalade cat," the plump red haired woman that was standing in the doorframe crooned. "Let's see if he's hungry." She bustled back into the house only to return a few minutes later with a bowl of milk and a small bowl with food that looked extremely appealing to Harry.
He carefully toddled over to where the woman had placed the food and tried to eat from the bowl without using his front paws.
"Mummy, do you think it's a baby cat?" the five-year-old girl broke the silence that had commenced as everyone watched Harry munch his fish that was covered with small oat meal flakes.
"I don't think that he's a baby, but he is probably only a few months old and might even be a little retarded," the woman replied kindly, giving Harry an assessing look.
"Mum, can we keep him?" another red haired boy, who had remained quiet so far, queried eagerly.
"Perhaps he belongs to someone," the mother said, sighing. "Well, we'll see if he wants to stay at all. As long as no one is looking for him, we'll keep him," she decided, "provided that your father agrees to have a pet."
"Mum, are you sure that he won't hunt Scabbers?" the oldest boy asked in obvious concern.
=I won't harm anyone,= Harry tried to reassure the boy, not realising that his words came out as small meows.
"I don't think he will," the girl said, apparently understanding the pleading nuance of his meows. "And even if he did, it wouldn't be a great loss."
"Tell him, Ginny," the twins laughed, and Harry knew already that he liked them and Ginny best.
'I'm the luckiest boy... err... cat in the world,' Harry mused as he finally felt completely full.
"Mum, may we take him into our room?" one of the twins asked.
Before his mother could reply, the other twin added, "Maybe we can use cat's fur for new pranks."
"No Mum, I want to have the cat," Ginny protested vehemently. "The twins already have each other to play with."
"No, I want him," the other boy said, before he lifted Harry and placed him on his lap.
'This is comfortable,' Harry thought appreciatively and was just about to fall asleep, when he noticed that he urgently had to relieve himself. He jumped onto the ground and dashed into the bushes as fast as he could run on his still unstable paws. When he returned to the house, only his three favourite people were waiting for him, and he hesitantly climbed onto one of the twins' lap for a much needed nap.
Apparently realising that Harry intended to stay, the nice family provided him with a sleeping place in the living room, a litter tray in the bathroom and his own bowls for food in the kitchen. To Harry's surprise, the family was not only much more pleasant and funnier than the Dursleys, but they seemed to be 'freaks' like him. Especially the parents often made things appear out of thin air, and the kitchen was so strange that Harry was sure Aunt Petunia would suffer a heart attack upon its sight. However, he felt extremely well in his new surroundings and was happier than he had ever felt before.
HP
It was a few weeks after Harry had arrived at the Weasleys' home that something strange happened. While Molly Weasley was preparing breakfast, Mr. Weasley was reading the newspaper, the 'Daily Prophet' as Harry deciphered the title.
"Harry Potter has gone missing," Mr. Weasley read the headline, causing his wife to repeat the sentence in question.
"According to Arabella Figg, who was secretly keeping an eye on the boy who lived..." Mr. Weasley continued to read the article aloud.
'Mrs. Figg supposed to watch over me? The boy who lived? Do they mean me, because I'm alive although the Dursleys wanted me dead?' Harry's thoughts went haywire. He was only brought back to reality, when Mrs. Weasley said in an upset voice, "That's Dumbledore's fault. How could he place the boy with Muggles? Many wizarding families, including ourselves, would have been willing to take the child in. I just hope that he'll find a better home."
'Wizarding?' Harry wondered, unable to completely comprehend the conversation. 'I found a much better home,' he thought happily as he snuggled between a pair of feet under the table, not caring which of the twins' feet they were.
HP
To Harry' surprise, none of the five children attended school, although they sometimes talked about their two older brothers Bill and Charlie, who were attending a boarding school called Hogwarts. The five younger children were home schooled by their mother. Every morning after breakfast, Molly Weasley gathered them at the dining table and taught them in Maths, Writing, Reading and what she called 'Spells' and 'Wizarding Etiquette'. Very interested in learning the same things as the children, Harry made it a habit to sit on the table near Percy; he was the oldest and already much more confident in casting easy spells than the others, so that it seemed the safest place.
"I never knew that cats were that interested and intelligent," Mrs. Weasley said one day, giving him a piercing look.
'Oh no, I can't have them discover that I'm not really a cat. I'm so glad that they didn't find out during the last few months,' Harry mused and began to meticulously clean his fur in order not to panic. To his relief, Mrs. Weasley's attention was diverted, when Ginny suddenly said, "Mummy, I don't feel good."
Harry looked at the girl, noticing that her cheeks were deeply flushed and her pretty chocolate eyes that were always smiling at him looked dull and clouded.
"Sweetie, you're burning up," Mrs. Weasley stated after feeling Ginny's forehead. "Go to bed; I'll be with you in a few minutes. And everyone else… Frederick, George," she continued sternly, "stay put and continue with your Maths assignments. No magic." She glared at the twins as she spoke, causing Harry to inwardly chuckle.
'The twins are great fun,' he thought. 'They always come up with something else to make everyone laugh.' Knowing from his experience that it wasn't nice to be all alone when being sick, Harry jumped down to the floor and followed Ginny upstairs into her room.
"You really became good at climbing the stairs," Ginny said in a hoarse voice and picked him up halfway upstairs.
Harry snuggled into the girl's soft, purple sweatshirt, noticing that she didn't only smell as well as usual, but that the spot on her arm was even warmer and more comfortable than normal.
"Thank you for staying with me," Ginny whispered as she crawled into bed," gently petting his fur when he licked her hand and finally made himself comfortable in her armpit, purring contentedly.
"Purry, what are you doing here?" Mrs. Weasley asked a few minutes later, frowning at the sight of the small cat.
"Please Mum, let him stay," Ginny croaked, letting out a few harsh coughs.
"We'll see," her mother replied, coaxing a thermometer under her daughter's tongue.
Harry stared at the strange device, when it turned completely red and announced, "Forty point two degrees," in a female voice.
"That's a very high fever," Mrs. Weasley said worriedly. "I'll ask Madam Pomfrey if she can come and check on you. We'll ask her about Purry."
A few minutes later, an older woman in a strange, white one-piece bustled into the room and waved a wand over Ginny. "The Wizard's flu" she informed Mrs. Weasley, before she pointed her wand at an empty parchment to fill it with a prescription for potions as well as instructions.
"Is the Wizard's flu contagious for cats?" Mrs. Weasley queried in evident concern.
"No, not for cats, but for your other children of course," the Healer replied and handed her a phial with a preventive potion to mix into the next meal, before she spelled the first dose of potion straight into the girl's system.
Harry spent the whole day keeping Ginny company. It was three days later, when Ginny was allowed out of bed that Harry suddenly began to feel ill. He tried to hide how bad he felt and forced a few bites of his breakfast down, before he took a long nap on the well scrubbed wooden table during the children's class, unaware of the fact that everyone looked at him with a mixture of concern and surprise.
After lunch, one of the twins picked him up and carried him into the bedroom they shared.
"Purry, we want to show you something..."
"... Right after you came here last year, we decided to try to become cat Animagi, so that we could speak with you, and we practised a lot during the last few months," the boys informed him.
'That's a cool idea,' Harry thought and gratefully licked Fred's hand, before he curled up on the boy's chest and closed his eyes.
"No Purry, don't sleep on me," Fred said, chuckling, and placed the cat on his bed. "We want to show you that we finally managed to transform into cats. Look."
Harry somehow forced his achy eyes to remain open and observed the twins change into marmalade cats just like him. =Wow; that's great,= he said, causing the two twin cats to meow happily.
=We thought you'd be happy to be able to communicate,= the twins replied, before they suggested, =Let's go out for a stroll in the garden.=
'I'd prefer to sleep for a while,' Harry mused but dismissed the urge, thinking how happy he was to have such good friends. He slowly followed the other cats, who were a bit bigger than him, out into the garden, where the three cats spent the afternoon trying to chase garden gnomes and taking naps in the sunshine.
=Purry,= Harry heard the other cats call him from what seemed to be far away. =It's nearly dinner time. We need to return to the house,= Fred informed him, carefully putting a front paw on Harry's leg.
=Oh and by the way, we don't anyone to know that we're Animagi.= George added, giving him a stern look.
=Just a few more minutes,= Harry replied hoarsely, noticing terrified that his voice was about to fail.
=Purry, are you sick?= the twin cats asked simultaneously, eyeing him in concern.
=I'm fine,= Harry croaked, terrified. 'Oh no, I can't have them know that I'm sick. They'll think that I'm a burden and a good for nothing freak like the Dursleys always said,' he thought. 'I want to stay here with them. I love having such a huge family.' He unconsciously closed his eyes, unaware of the fact that the twins exchanged a worried look and transformed into their human forms, before one of them carefully picked him up and carried him into the house.
"Mum, we think that Purry is sick," George told his mother.
"He seems listless and I think his fur feels warmer than normal," Fred added, handing Harry to Mrs. Weasley.
"What's wrong with you hmm?" Molly Weasley asked in a soft voice, causing Harry to involuntarily let out a miserable meow. "He is definitely ill. I'm going to take him to the vet in Diagon Alley."
"May I come?" Ginny asked eagerly, tenderly taking Harry out of her mother's arms.
"We're going, too," the twins said in determination, and after a few more minutes of discussion, it was decided that Percy had to keep an eye on Ron and how the others had to behave at the vet, Harry was back in Mrs. Weasley's arms.
Feeling too miserable to care what was happening, Harry closed his achy eyes and drifted off to sleep, not even realising that Mrs. Weasley carefully took him through the Floo. He only blinked when he felt himself being placed on a table that felt dreadfully cold and uncomfortable compared to Mrs. Weasley's soft, warm arms. An older woman in white robes was standing in front of him, waving her wand over him several times.
"What is wrong?" Mrs. Weasley queried, sounding very concerned.
"This is strange," the older witch replied thoughtfully. "My diagnostic spells don't work on him. Are you sure that he is a normal cat and not an Animagus?"
Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes as she replied, "He came to us nine months ago. Of course he is a cat."
"Very well then, I'll have to check on him by Muggle means," the Healer said, turning to one of her cupboards, still lightly holding Harry with a hand.
Suddenly, Harry felt her grip tighten as she stuck something into his bum. 'No,' he thought, terrified, and wearily tried to get away from the cold stick that felt extremely uncomfortable.
"It's all right, Purry," Ginny told him in her soft voice and carefully began to pet him. "The Healer needs to take your temperature."
Unfortunately, the vet was not able to find out what exactly was making him feel poorly. She gave Harry a shot and instructed Mrs. Weasley to make him drink one spoonful of a normal fever reducing potion for humans every four hours until his fever would break.
During the next two days, Harry felt extremely unwell, and in spite of all the efforts of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny to make him feel better, his fever continued to climb. One day, the twins appeared at his side in their cat forms.
=Hey Purry...=
=What exactly is wrong?=
=Is there anything you want us to tell Mum, so that she can help you?= they asked in their usual sing-song, which lacked their normal enthusiasm, eyeing him in concern.
For once Harry felt too miserable to even chuckle at their antics. =I just don't feel good,= he whispered. =Maybe I caught the wizard's flu from Ginny.=
=But they said that only wizards and witches could get it,= George replied, sighing.
=Only humans,= Fred added.
=Please don't tell anyone, but I am human,= Harry whispered, feeling too bad to care what was going to happen if the truth came out.
=You're an Animagus?= George blurted out in disbelief. =Where do you come from then..."
=... And what's your real name? Perhaps...=
=Oh well, never mind that now,= George interrupted his brother. =Let's try to convince Mum to give him the potion for the wizard's flu without giving him away.= The twins transformed into their human forms, and George picked Harry up, cradling him close as they stormed downstairs to corner their mother in the kitchen.
Molly Weasley rolled her eyes at her sons. "How often do I have to tell you that the only potion that seems to at least partially work on cats is the fever reducer?" she asked in annoyance.
"Mum, it won't hurt him..."
"... But it's worth a try," the twins insisted, exchanging a look that was a quiet agreement to tell her mother the truth if she wouldn't follow their advice.
"You don't try out potions if you are not sure about the effects," Mr. Weasley, who had just entered the kitchen, agreed with his wife, causing the twins to retreat to their room for a lively discussion if they should tell their mother about Harry's secret or not.
However, when they woke up in the morning, no explanation was needed anymore. Due to the high fever that accompanied the wizard's flu, Harry's body had not been able to remain in its Animagus form, and when Mrs. Weasley entered the living room to check on the cat during the night, she was surprised to find a little boy lying on the floor instead of the cat.
Completely shocked, Molly Weasley shouted for her husband, causing most of her family to wake up and run downstairs, where they all stopped dead in their tracks upon the sight of the small boy.
"That must be Harry Potter," Mr. Weasley said thoughtfully as he carefully lifted the boy into his arms and placed him onto the patched, yet comfortable sofa, causing everyone to stare at the sleeping boy in shock.
"He must be a natural Animagus," Mrs. Weasley said in disbelief. The vet was right then."
HP
Harry slept through the whole commotion. Only in the morning, he woke up to Mrs. Weasley's voice. "Harry, sweetie, are you feeling any better in your human form?"
Harry looked at the kind woman in absolute terror. "I'm sorry," he croaked, trying to scramble out from under the warm blanket that had somehow found its way onto the sofa; however, Mrs. Weasley gently pushed him back.
"Easy Harry; you'll only make yourself worse," she said in a soft voice, before she laid a cold hand on his forehead, sighing as she pulled it back. "Harry, I'm going to call Madam Pomfrey, the Healer from Hogwarts, who came to check on Ginny the other day."
"No, it's all right," Harry whispered, unconsciously thinking aloud as he recalled what Aunt Petunia had told him about being a freak and not worth of going to a doctor or receiving medicine.
Molly Weasley let out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the sofa, gently taking his hot hand in her own. "Harry, we're going to talk about your home life when you're completely back to health. If you don't want to return to your relatives, you don't have to go back there. You may stay with us if you wish."
Not able to muster the energy of keeping his aching eyes open any longer, let alone thanking the kind woman, Harry tiredly squeezed her icy hand, sighing in relief when she said softly, "You don't have to thank me, sweetie. You already belong to us, if it is in your cat form or your human form, and Ginny was right when she said that it doesn't matter if we have seven children or eight. We wouldn't want to for you not to live with us anymore." Apparently noticing that Harry felt too miserable for any further conversation, she quietly rose from the edge of the sofa and headed to the fireplace to call Madam Pomfrey.
"Harry Potter?" the Mediwitch asked in surprise as she approached the sofa, and Mrs. Weasley quickly filled her in about the stray cat that they had taken in nine months ago. Pomfrey cast a series of diagnostic spells on the child, her expression turning graver at each spell she performed.
"Is something wrong other than the flu or whatever he has caught?" Molly Weasley asked in concern.
"Yes," Pomfrey replied slowly. She once again waved her wand over Harry, and this time a small parchment emerged from the tip of her wand. "This is his medical history," she said, sighing as he handed Mrs. Weasley the parchment.
"Untreated injuries and illnesses, several broken bones, bruises and welts on his back, malnourished, too small for his age..." Mrs. Weasley read. "Does that mean that he was neglected by his own family?" she asked in disbelief, before she remembered what Harry had told her earlier about not being worthy to receive medicine."
"Apparently," the Healer confirmed as he spelled a potion into the boy's stomach, "and probably also abused. I'd like to do a complete check-up when he is completely recovered." She let out a long sigh. "I know that Albus placed him with the Muggles for a reason; however, I cannot tolerate child abuse. He must not return to that awful place."
"He won't," Mrs. Weasley said in a soft voice. "Arthur and I already discussed the matter during the night, and we're going to adopt him, even perform a blood adoption if necessary to hide him from Albus."
"Molly, allow me to speak with Minerva about the matter. She has always been very fond of Harry, and she knows Albus better than everyone else, so that she'll be able to decide if a blood adoption is necessary," Pomfrey suggested kindly.
"That would be wonderful. I don't feel comfortable making so important decisions, and Harry is still too small to know what everything is about," Mrs. Weasley replied, thanking the Healer profusely.
HP
Two days later, when Harry finally began to feel better, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley told him about his parents and about Voldemort and that he, Harry, was special in the magical world, because he had defeated him when he was just a baby. They also spoke with him about Hogwarts and the Headmaster, who had placed him with his Muggle relatives.
"Oh please don't send me back there," Harry croaked, panicking at the thought, heart beating rapidly in his chest.
"No sweetie, don't make yourself so upset," Molly Weasley said soothingly, stroking his hot face and hair, before her husband explained that they were considering blood adopting him if that was what he wanted. "You'll need to share a room with Ron though."
"But will Ron agree?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"We spoke with him and with the others of course, and Ron said that he is looking forward to sharing a room with you."
A few hours later, Mrs. Weasley gently helped a red haired Harry into the second bed in Ron's room. "Try to sleep a bit more, sweetie. You'll feel much better tomorrow."
Harry gratefully reached for the woman's hand. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Weasley. I'm so happy to have such a great new family."
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley replied, gently caressing his face with her cool hand. "Since you're our adoptive son now, you may call us Mum and Dad or if you prefer Molly and Arthur. It's up to you, sweetie, and we're all very happy to have you in our family."
'I'm the happiest boy in the world,' Harry thought as he closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into his covers. 'Ron and I are the same age and we'll be like the twins. We're going to have so much fun.' He tiredly blinked as he felt something jump onto his bed, and a huge smile began to play on his lips as he drifted off to sleep with two marmalade cats sitting on his bed trying to tickle his feet.
The End