Hardly Rational by xErised

Not Quite That Ferocious


"It's perfectly fine, Harry. As my father used to say, we can't always predict when the Gulping Plimpys will perform their last gulp. Maybe the Humping Wrackspurts around Draco's head were a bit too rowdy yesterday. It is their mating season, after all," Luna comforted reassuringly as she picked up her quill and marked a big, black cross just beside the first trial on the list.

Harry gave the cross a withering glare.

The cross stared back challengingly.

It was the day after Harry's Fail (as what Ron liked to jokingly call it), and the four of them were sequestered away in the inner cloisters of the school library. There was the hushed ebb and rise of conversation and discussion around them, the monotonous scratching of quills against parchment and textbooks, punctuated by the occasional sharp bark of Madam Pince when some knots of students got too noisy.

Outside, the rain plopped down hard from the roiling dark-grey clouds, combined with sizzling forks of lightning and ear-splitting thunder that made Hermione jump every few minutes or so. Harry gazed absently out the window, his chin resting on his palm and his eyes batting lazily behind his glasses. Fluid branches of rain lashed viciously onto the panes, streaking and blending the colors of the landscape beyond.

Harry sighed dreamily and wondered what Draco was doing right now.

Beside him, Hermione sneezed and rubbed her nose ungraciously, her eyes never once wavering from the sea of black and white from the blanched pages of her book. Ron puffed himself up importantly, took off his jacket and draped it gently across Hermione's shoulders. In response, Hermione smiled gratefully back at the redhead.

Luna, who was seated opposite the pair, simply whipped out her Spectrespecs from her robes, slipped it on and regarded Ron and Hermione through the frames of her quirky glasses.

And then, a very slow, almost crafty grin spread across the bottom half of the Ravenclaw's face; a grin that the three Gryffindors failed to catch.

"So what's next?" Harry asked, turning back to Luna. He reared back and gasped in mild horror when he came face to face with what looked like a demented owl. Harry blinked rapidly and stared further at the psychedelic pink and blue swirls that covered Luna's eyes, the little, mind-numbing sparkly bits at the sides that were glimmering like rhinestones, those hypnotic whorls and curls that trailed from the centre of the lenses, swilling like a… whirlpool, hmmm, strange how Harry was getting sleepy, there were tiny dots invading his vision, hmmm, hmmm, and Merlin, Luna sure was pretty, especially with that cheery sunflower in her hair, such a far cry to the weather raging outside, ooh, sexy sunflowers and pretty Luna, woohoo!

Harry giggled.

"Yes, I do get that reaction often. I don't know why, though, I think Spectrespecs looks fairly similar to your glasses, Harry," Luna commented and pulled the glasses off, firmly breaking the spell that had held the brunette in thrall. A startled Harry shook his head and thumped the side of his face robustly, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"It's what it says on the list," Luna said plainly, jolting Harry's thoughts back to his initial query.

Harry flipped open his Potions book and plucked the list from between the pages. He knew what it meant, and he certainly had his own reservations about it, but Harry just didn't understand-

2) Request Animagus lessons from McGonagall.

"Animagus! That's brilliant, Harry!" Ron cheered, immediately perking up. "You could get a really cool form, like a… a leopard, or a stag, like your dad! Or maybe a lion, just like Gryffindor!" As if to emphasize his point, Ron inhaled deeply and let rip a mighty, reverberating roar, making a group of first-years jump out of their skins beside them and triggering a lengthy lecture from a scandalized Madam Pince about the sanctity of the peace that must be upheld in the library at all times!

"Crusty old bat," Ron muttered darkly under his breath when Madam Pince had stormed away, and Hermione adopted a stern expression, but no one could miss the affectionate grin tugging on the witch's lips.

"I don't mind training to become an Animagus right now, but is it really necessary? Isn't it a bit… permanent for this?" Harry wondered out loud, but before Luna could answer, he spoke again, turning the list around to Luna's direction, a finger underlining The Dreaded Number Seven (Yes, it was capitalized because it damn well deserved to be!).

"Is this… erm, necessary too? Although that seems rather risky, doesn't it?" Harry dredged up an uncomfortable laugh. Merlin, just thinking about it got Harry all hot and bothered, and not in a good way. "And since we're on this topic, number five also raises some… ah… concerns," the Gryffindor finished flimsily, hoping that Luna wouldn't feel insulted.

It seemed as though a bit of Luna's dreaminess had suddenly evaporated like how a rainbow would just before a looming thunderstorm.

"You can't pick and choose what you want to do. Every step is equally important. I thought we had already moved on from the doubting phase, Harry. If you prefer not to do anything and to continue to sneakily write your love letters-" Luna answered evenly, but was cut off by a spluttering and vehemently gesticulating Harry, who let out a chord of laughter that was a bit too bright to be genuine.

"Love letters? I don't write love letters, it's what girls do, haha, I'm not a girl-"

Luna's smile hardened and Hermione peered owlishly at Harry.

"… yeah okay just a handful of 'em," Harry bleated weakly, his flailing bravado crumbling like crushed sand.

Luna's dreaminess instantly re-appeared, her smile softening at the edges.

"Of course you'll be nothing like a bloodthirsty, barbaric leopard," Luna explained, her nose wrinkling up in distaste at the very notion. "Draco does have a delicate system, and it won't do at all for you to scare the living daylights out of him. You want to make him fall in love with you, so I was thinking more along the lines of something… cute and cuddly," Luna hinted, smiling innocently at a flabbergasted Harry, who was currently plagued with trepidation.

Harry was gradually realizing that he was developing a phobia over that particular (diabolical) smile of Luna, which meant that he was in for a truck-load of:

a) Vanish-in-a-hole-in-the-ground and/or head-banging-on-wall embarrassment.

b) Teeth-gritting, fist-curling, palm-on-forehead ohmygod, please tell me that I did not just say that awkwardness.

c) Pure, feeble, blank, horror.

d) All of the above.

With that placid smile still in place, Luna leant over and whispered something quietly in the brunette's ear, her grey eyes twinkling with both merriment and mirth.

Harry paled at once.


"It comes as no surprise that you show interest in learning the ways of the Animagus, but I must warn you beforehand, Potter, that the process and training is extremely grueling as it encompasses both theory and practical, so sufficient time and energy must be set aside for this commitment. Can you fulfill that?" McGonagall enquired severely. She paused in her grading of her essays and looked solemnly at Harry through the tops of her glasses.

"Yes, Professor," Harry nodded seriously.

Pleased by Harry's staunch reply, McGonagall gave the essay that she was currently marking one last tick and placed it to one side. "I assume that you wish to follow in the footsteps of your father and your Patronus in the shape of a stag?"

"Well, uh, about that…" Harry petered off helplessly, shooting the Transfigurations Professor a frail, watered-down grin.

Harry and Ron had been up in arms when Luna had revealed what shape she would like Harry to take for his Animagus form.

"Harry's a tough, strapping bloke, Luna, he's got his macho pride to maintain!"

"It's essential that he takes this form-"

"Yes, I don't mind being an Animagus, and yes, I do see where you're going with this, but even I have my limits-"

"Harry, do listen to Luna! I'm sure she's got her reasons for everything, and besides, you'll be absolutely adorable-"

Hermione was already a sight to behold when she was displeased, and when coupled with an undeterred Luna-

Females were a bunch of loonies, the whole sodding lot of them.

Their argument had reached such heated levels that a fuming Madam Pince had unceremoniously booted them out of the library shrieking 'and don't come back until you've settled your differences!'

And that was when Luna threw out her trump card.

"When all goes according to plan and right after you succeed in your Animagus form, you'll be able to access the Slytherin dorms, especially Draco's bed. You will spend countless nights with him, and he will chat you up about the day's events, show you undying affection, fawn over, cuddle, hug you, and if you're lucky, you'll get to see him naked."

A naked Draco Malfoy.

Well, since she put it oh-so-very-nicely in those terms…

"Are you very, very sure, Luna?"

"Yes."

So here he was, in McGonagall's office, requesting to adopt an Animagus form that was so far off his radar that only Luna would be able to think of it-

"I wonder if I could… have my Animagus as a…" Harry started and shuffled lamely on the spot, his hands clasped unconvincingly behind his back and his voice spiraling downwards in a jerky slope until McGonagall couldn't hear the tail-end of his sentence at all.

"Speak up, Potter, I can't hear you."

"I would like to be a… a… bunny," Harry managed to croak out.

At this point, McGonagall made a faint choking sound.

There.

He'd said it.

Harry Potter had already gone down in the annals of fame and glory as the Boy-Who-Lived, stalwart and honorable champion of the Wizarding World who had fearlessly and gallantly laid down his life to defeat Voldemort, and there was no doubt that he was going to be featured in numerous historical textbooks and journals, but oh no, there was going to be a teeny little, almost inconsequential (but not really) footnote, right at the bottom of the page-

"By the way, Harry Potter's Animagus form is a bunny."

And then the students would mock him with contempt, "Wonder how he killed the Dark Lord. Maybe by a well-timed bunny punch? HARHARHAR!"

He was no longer going to be known as the Boy-Who-Lived, but instead, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Bunny.

Harry was going to be one of those animals that girls would coo over and boys would love to squish, he was going to have a soft, fluffy, little cottontail and those cute, tiny, paws that could barely lift up a sodding wand, he was going to have big, adorable, dopey eyes that would melt the hearts of girls like chocolate in a flaming cauldron, he was going to have one of those twitchy noses complete with quivering whiskers and go around sniffing everyone's bums, and, oh God-

Harry wanted to curl himself up in a corner and die.

But the image of a naked, loving whispers of forever- and attentive Draco Malfoy swam, shimmered and shone, like a glorious light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

"This… is highly irregular, Potter. Out of curiosity, may I ask why?" McGonagall asked dryly, after having gotten over the first wave of shock.

"For personal reasons," Harry replied, fidgeting a bit when a gimlet-eyed McGonagall fixed him with a searching stare.

"Very well. I will have the mandatory paperwork for registration with the Ministry of Magic at the Improper Use of Magic Office ready by the next class. Additionally, we will also discuss the timing and duration of your impending Animagus lessons. You can start by borrowing these few books from the library," McGonagall ordered as she wrote down the titles of a few basic Animagus training books on a scrap of parchment and handed it to Harry, who nodded silently.

"Hang on, Potter," McGonagall said as she dashed off another book title on a separate piece of parchment.

"It would be best for you to borrow this too, for whoever has caught your current fancy," McGonagall suggested, an amused glint twinkling in her bespectacled eyes.

Harry looked down at the title uncertainly:

"How to Care For, Cherish and Love Your Small Pet"

Harry wanted to run screaming in the other direction.


Days feathered into weeks, and Harry's life morphed into a hurried gust of habitual lessons, schoolwork, Quidditch practice and private Animagus classes with McGonagall.

Hermione had helped, of course, especially when Harry had encountered problems with large, technical chunks of theory Animagus by reading it herself, digesting it and explaining it in simpler terms to Harry. It took Harry three full weeks until McGonagall was satisfied with his grasp on his theory work, and Harry found himself waiting eagerly for his first practical Animagus class, which was going to commence next week.

Harry just hoped that he wouldn't find himself having a bunny tail attached to his bum in his human form, because that would just totally suck.

Ron also regularly assisted Harry in the formulating of their Quidditch team strategies and the shaping up of the Gryffindor team during practices, thus providing a much-needed helping hand that Harry was grateful for.

Luna had also considerately planned the list in such a way that Harry wouldn't have too much on his plate at one time. Just last week, the Ravenclaw had already introduced the third item on the list to Harry.

3) Chart your progress on the back of this list.

"A few sentences about what you've been doing would be fine, Harry."

It wasn't difficult at all, so once every few nights, Harry would diligently jot down a brief summary of what he had accomplished, leaving enough space below for the rest of the untouched items on the list.

It was only now that Harry could take a proper breather because his essays were mostly done, the spate of tests that the professors had heaped on them were finally over and the Gryffindor Quidditch team was taking a short, well-deserved break between matches, which freed up much quality time for Harry's favorite pastime: Malfoy-Watching.

Harry quelled the infatuated burble of a sigh that rose clumsily to his lips and surreptitiously rustled last month's copy of The Daily Prophet that was held directly in front of him.

The newspaper had two holes cut out neatly for Harry's eyes, and another four separate holes (which were currently being unused) for Harry to catch the different angles of Draco's face and body.

No, it wasn't the first time he was doing this.

The brunette eyed the other boy happily across the Great Hall, savoring the peace that he had since both Ron and Hermione had not arrived for breakfast yet. Yearning hunger trembled and scythed across Harry's skin and unadulterated desire jetted through his blood as he brazenly eyed his walking wet dream through the (inadequate) camouflage of his paper.

Harry loved looking at Draco, especially during the mornings. The grouchy how adorable, he's not a morning person at all- blond would stumble down to breakfast equipped with a pair of smoldering, softly-lidded bedroom eyes that brought to mind undulating green bedcovers, the demure glow and quaver of candlelight placed strategically around the room, and there a half-naked Draco was, rubbing his legs coyly together, biting his plump lower lip, one hand clutching his hip, revealing acres and acres and acres of pale, creamy skin that deserved to be licked, sucked and fondled until the end of bloody time, and Draco would be beckoning Harry over with a promising, come-hither look that made Harry want to whoop with delight and tear his clothes off with ardor-

Harry's grip on the sides of the newspaper faltered a bit while he stuck a finger in his collar and worked it slightly loose, wondering why it had suddenly gotten so hot.

"Morning, Harry," Ron greeted and slid his gangly legs beside Harry, while Hermione followed suit, but on the brunette's left side.

"I haven't seen that in a long time," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow at Harry's deviously-devised newspaper as she buttered her toast. "I still have no idea why you've got six holes for that. It's not like you can use all of them simultaneously, you know."

"Ah, this is the beauty of it. If you look through the set of holes at the extreme right side," Harry grinned and zipped his head to the right, "you can get a better view of his left profile. Do you know he's got a piercing on his left ear? However, if you use the holes at the left side and tilt your head just a bit like that…" Harry crooked his head slightly, his voice buoying up with excitement, "you get to see how the sunlight shimmers on his blond hair, and sometimes his robe's a bit awry on this side, so I caught a nice long glimpse of his collarbone once. But my favorite position is the middle one, because well… you get to see his face, which is… in my opinion, simply brilliant," Harry sighed joyfully with a gooey smile on his face.

"Mate, you need help," Ron exclaimed, staring at his best friend as though he had grown another head or two.

"Oh, you wouldn't understand, Ronald. I think it's really sweet, yes, I know, Ron, he's Malfoy, don't give me that face, but oh, Harry, I never knew you were so sensitive deep down inside!" Hermione swooned and promptly flung her arms warmly around Harry's neck.

"Hey, don't make me sound like some sort of troll," Ron mumbled darkly to himself, then blinked as Hermione scooted closer to Harry and placed her eyes behind the two holes on Harry's left. Shrugging to no one in particular, Ron hustled towards Harry and stuck his head curiously beside him, surveying Draco through the set of holes on the right.

Three pairs of unwavering, intense eyes were now fixed resolutely on a certain Slytherin through the cut-outs of a newspaper.

"The sunlight does set off his hair rather nicely, kind of makes it look like… spun gold, actually."

"Yes, that's exactly what I thought of, Hermione!"

"I can't see his piercing. And I don't see what's up with his left profile. He still looks the same, that pointy-faced ferret. Hermione, stop pulling the paper towards you-"

"I'll stop pulling it when you stop wiggling the bench to the front, Ron, one of us is going to fall over-"

"Get down!" A floundering Harry suddenly grunted, much to Ron and Hermione's consternation. They followed Harry's instructions and immediately flopped their heads beneath the table without further ado.

Silence reigned for a few seconds.

"Harry? I assume that Draco saw us looking at him?"

Harry coughed in embarrassment and felt blood blazing through his burnished cheeks at Hermione's correct deduction. With a precise flick of his head, Draco had locked eyes with an astonished Harry, his grey eyes containing a thoroughly entertained glint.

"If that's the case, then shouldn't we have pretended that we were actually reading the paper, instead of ducking our heads down like this and making it painfully obvious that we were indeed looking at him?"

Harry let out a long, drawn-out sigh that was brimming with feeling.

"Okay. Let's all get up and act as though nothing has happened."

The trio resurfaced, only to find Seamus and Dean staring at them in bewilderment.

"Is there something fascinating under the table? Any girls flashing their knickers, maybe?" Seamus leered lecherously and poked his head under the table, earning an efficient kick at the ankle from Hermione.

With bashfulness and peevishness churning in his belly, Harry calmly folded the newspaper up, picked up his spoon and dragged it around his porridge in a show of nonchalance before letting his eyes roam discreetly to the Slytherin table.

Draco had been waiting patiently for Harry to gaze at him, and when Harry took the bait, the blond shot Harry an arch look and smirked slyly at him. Both his forefingers and thumbs were curved into circles, and Draco raised his hands up cunningly to his face, his fingers encircling the perimeters of his own eyes in an imitation of Harry's newspaper cut-outs.

SUBTLE FAIL.

And it was at that very second that Harry saw his forthcoming future drifting before his eyes; he was going to grow old and lonely, probably a bit like Hagrid. Come to think about it, he might even take over Hagrid's job as gamekeeper of Hogwarts and have a little hut just at the border of the Forbidden Forest and have no one for company but pumpkins, boarhounds and Blast-Ended Skrewts, who would probably eat him up when he was in his bunny form anyway, thus putting an end to his Draco-less life.

Depressing wouldn't even begin to describe it.

"Hello, Harry! I did enjoy your newspaper trick, although it sort of defeated the purpose when Draco found out about it. And six holes does seem a bit too much, honestly," Luna said frankly, appearing out of nowhere and standing in front of Harry.

"Thanks for the critique," Harry replied feebly.

"Anyway, things seem to be going smoothly for now, so would you like to continue with number four?"

Banishing the dregs of humiliation that he felt, Harry sat up straight and nodded expectantly. Number four was only a single word, and once again, the brunette had not been completely sure what it entailed exactly. Emboldened by Harry's confidence, Luna smiled (yes, that smile again, Harry thought with a shudder) whimsically at Harry and spoke, her lilting voice mellifluous and soothing.

"It's nothing out of the ordinary at all, Harry. You're only going out on a date with Draco."


/tbc

Okay, I better clear some stuff up about the Animagus issue before I get bum-kicked about not doing adequate research:

James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black started training for their Animagus forms since they were twelve and finally completed it when they were fifteen. All of their three forms were unregistered, thus leading to my assumption that they didn't receive any official training from McGonagall, because if they went through the proper channels for that, they would probably be registered. To be doing such advanced magic when they were twelve without assistance is already quite a long stretch, so if you take a fully-fledged wizard such as 18-year-old Harry Potter with proper training from McGonagall, I dare say that Harry will take a much shorter time to complete the process.

I honestly have no idea how long Harry would take in reality, but if you put it in the context of this story, it definitely has to take less than a year, because all of them are already at their last year in Hogwarts. I've already put an adequate length of time for theory Animagus so as to make it not so rushed, so hopefully that might appease some of the more nit-picky readers. This is the only bit that I'm rather worried about, and I've tried to fit it in the timeline as much as possible, and I'm afraid that this is the best that I can come up with. There's also the whole other issue of the wizard being unable to choose his form and how compatible his personality would be with the animal chosen, but bunny!Harry is (much more adorable than stag!Harry) very critical to the storyline, so it would mean greatly to me if you simply took this rationale at face value.

Yep, so I guess that's all that I've got to say about the Animagus subject, and well, I hope that this chapter got a few laughs from you! (: