The Animagus
Disclaimer: I don't have any rights to the world of Harry Potter.
Harry relaxed his hands from the fists he clenched them into. The boy's smile shone with true joy now. He made it. After all those long and arduous attempts to do this, he finally made it.
Harry Potter always wanted to be an animagus like his father and his school friends – Sirius and Peter. He practised this art all days and nights for the last three years, trying to morph himself into an animal. It was his secret he didn't share with anybody, not even with Ron and Hermione. It took skill, practise and patience to become an animagus, as the whole process was extremely difficult and could result in disaster but Harry didn't care. He practised every time when he was alone, hoping it would work some day. And it seemed it finally did.
The boy felt some weird tension in his body that started to spread all over it. He never felt anything like this before so what else could it be? He was finally becoming an animagus and it was all that mattered. But... The boy felt also something else. With horror, he realized he couldn't catch a breath. Harry looked down at his body. Yes, he finally managed to assume his animagical form – in this respect everything was right but what he also realized, choking, was that there was that one aspect of that whole thing he didn't take into consideration...
So he was lying now in his bed in the empty dormitory, desperately trying to breathe. He couldn't. He knew he was dying. He knew what happened and that it was that thing he had never thought of. The transformation into his animagical form was indeed successful but... The boy – animal closed his eyes and took his last breath. In the last flash of awareness, he heard some noise behind the door.
It was Ron and Neville that came in. The boys' gazes swept the room.
„Ehem... Neville, what is this dead fish doing in Harry's bed?"
