*Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and ideas….and the plot bunnies in the corner. Please don't sue, I'm a poor college student that has no life and way too many video games.*
"You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it." – Robin Williams

Of Swan Dives and Explanations

Harry eased into consciousness slowly. The first thing that caught his attention was the loud call of birds and the gentle lapping of water hitting shore. He felt grass underneath him, the ground soft and a little mushy. The air was cold and the morning dew was soaking through his torn clothes, causing him to shiver. An almost hot gust of air surrounded him every dozen or so seconds, before the cold started to seep in.

He lay there for several minutes, basking in the continuous heat, even as his nerve endings started to awaken. Like his memory, the pain started slowly coming back to him. First it was the difficulty with breathing, and then his arm started to throb while his side began to escalate from a dull ache to stabbing agony.

Groaning in pain, Harry tried to open his eyes. At first everything was blurry and he thought he had lost his glasses, but no, they were there, perched on his nose rather precariously. The grass beneath his cheek came sharply into focus, and then he saw trees. Rolling painfully on his back, Harry tried to look around without getting up.

The sky was a murky blue as dawn settled over the land. Several clouds billowed in what he assumed was a northerly direction. To his right lay the lake. He gazed at it fondly for a moment, before he turned his head towards Hogwarts. He needed to see the castle, make sure it was still there.

Except it wasn't.

Gasping in disbelief and pain, the Boy-Who-Lived forced himself to stand as he took in the large clearing. Arm wrapping around his torso to support his ribs, he gazed before him in disbelief. There was no Hogwarts, no castle, and from the looks of it there never had been. There was no rubble, no stone, no foundation, nothing to ever hint that there had once been a majestic feat in architecture. It was just gone.

Legs shaking in shock and weakness, he collapsed to his knees and choked down a sob. Had it truly been for nothing? He would allow himself to wallow in his self-pity for a little while longer, then he would get up and figure out what went wrong. As he forced down the agony of emotion trying to well up, he was distracted as he once again was surrounded by hot air, chasing away the morning chill.

It surrounded him in great puffs, and now that he thought about it, there was a hollow rumbling sound coming from behind him. It almost sounded like…breathing? No, it sounded exactly like breathing. Something was breathing behind him, something very large.

Vibrant green eyes shifted to their corners as his head turned ever so slowly to look behind him. He saw…black? Whatever it was, it was black and shiny, curved in a triangular way, the tip touched the ground and the top was above his 5'7" frame. It looked almost like a beak. As he gazed at the top, eyes cataloging where the beak ended and met what looked remarkably like black hide. Confusion swept over him before movement caught his eye. Two black holes flexed briefly before he was once again surrounded in that all-consuming heat.

Harry stared blankly for several seconds before his brain caught up with his observations. Those holes looked like nostrils…no, they were nostrils. Then that means…

He shifted a little to the side, to look around what he concluded was a beak, and then proceeded to scream like a prepubescent girl. Not his proudest moment…no.

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Unlike Harry, Snape did not have the pleasure of waking up slowly. No, he was pulled into consciousness quite abruptly as what sounded like a banshee shrieking loudly next to his sensitive ears. Black eyes snapping open to find the threat, Severus lunged himself into a standing position. Well that was the plan, at least.

What really happened was he found himself tangled as his limbs contorted in strange positions, and then he proceeded to fall flat onto his face as he couldn't balance properly. Snape groaned in annoyance and pain as he tried once again to stand. And the blasted banshee kept shrieking.

After several failed attempts to get his limbs to function properly, Severus settled with crouching instead…and found the position oddly comfortable. The screaming choked off as the screamer ran out of air. Blessed silence surrounded the clearing as he gazed around him, trying to find the threat. He found nothing, just a forest and a lake. There was nothing around him that could produce such an atrocious noise.

Several seconds passed, and then another noise caught his attention. It was between a scream and a whine and grated on every one of his nerves. The noise wasn't coming from around him; it was coming from under him.

Shifting back, Snape craned his neck to look at the puny creature who continued to annoy him with its presence and found…Potter? The Potion Master gazed at said boy in confusion. When had he gotten so small? Perhaps the boy drank something he wasn't supposed to. The Weasley twins might have had something to do with it.

His eye began to twitch in annoyance as the boy persisted in making that awful sound. "Cease that Merlin forsaken noise this instant, Potter!" He snapped, voice coming out far deeper than he intended. In fact, that had almost sounded like a growl.

He got the desired reaction though. The Potter child abruptly ended his banshee impersonation, but now he was staring at him as if he had seen a ghost. Huffing in annoyance, Snape turned his attention elsewhere. Perhaps the battle had fried what little brain cells the Gryffindor had left.

The lake was calm, no sign of the squid under its surface. Shifting to look at the surrounding forest, Snape's gazed at in thought. Something was wrong with the trees. They seemed…small. That was strange.

Another noise pulled his attention away from the abnormally small trees and back to the child he had pledged to protect. "Pr-prof-professor?" Potter questioned, gazing at him in wonder. "That y-you?"

Snape sneered at him. How eloquent. "Of course it's me, you idiot boy, who do you think it is?"

Potter still gazed up at him, way up. Slowly thoughts started to turn in his head as he thought about it. His claws dug into the dirt as a question began to form…wait, claws? Snapping his head down, Severus looked on in disbelief as his took in his hands.

His weight rested on two claws, and from that there was a wing, a definite reptilian wing attached to what was supposed to be his arm. Oh sweet Merlin, Potter wasn't small, Snape was huge.

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"Of course it's me, you idiot boy, who do you think it is?"

The sneered question was almost comforting, the voice familiar even though it was deeper than he remembered. It was definitely Hogwarts resident dungeon bat, even altered though it was, his voice still had that liquid lilt to it.

Before him was his Potions Professor and tentative friend, but also before him stood the largest Dragon he had ever seen. Harry shuffled a little to the side to take in what was once his teacher. He was massive, at least seventy feet nose to tail…minimum. A collection of bronze horns ranging from three feet to five feet in length covered not only his head and spine, but his entire back, getting progressively smaller until they ended around his sides.

He watched as the large head turned this way and that, trying to see what he was seeing. It would have been funny, the way his Professor was acting…if, you know, he hadn't been turned into a Dragon! A feeling was bubbling up in the back of his mind, it felt like :disbelief: and the beginning of :hysteria:.

The feelings weren't his.

"Professor?" Harry asked, confused. Even as the word left his lips, he wished desperately that they hadn't as the large head turned and solid onyx eyes latched onto him. He gulped in fear. It was like staring into a void, there was no visible pupil or iris, just a solid black. If he looked close enough, Harry reckoned he could see his reflection.

The Potion Master blinked, before he shook his head. One of the wings lifted, the two fingers, for lack of a better word, curved around his muzzle. If Snape was human, that gesture would be him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Harry had seen the action enough to recognize it for what it was.

"This isn't happening," Snape mumbled, but his voice was far from quiet. "This isn't happening. I'm dreaming…this has to be a dream. A very strange, very unreal, not happening dream."

Potter continued to gaze on in fascination, even as he moved to get a better look. An upturned root halted his progress as he tripped over it. A rib slid strangely and scrapped against another at the jarring movement. Gasping in pain, he kneeled on the damp forest floor, trying to catch his breath.

"I don't think a dream is supposed to hurt this much," he commented, and the ramblings of his teacher abruptly ended.

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The gasped words drew Severus out of his monologue. Turning his gaze to his student, he watched as Potter tried to stand, right arm wrapped around his ribs while the other hung loosely at an awkward angle.

"Stop moving this instant!" Snape nearly shouted. The boy froze, crouched strangely as his legs tried to support him. :Fear: flashed in the back of his mind, and Snape's eyes narrowed upon the small figure. Potter's eyes were dilated, and his breath was coming out quicker with each passing second. That feeling of fear wasn't his, it was the boy's.

Onyx eyes narrowing in disbelief, he watched as the boy worked himself into a panic. Snape almost sighed, his problem could wait. Clearly the boy needed him more. "Stop," he stated softer this time, shifting so he could lie gingerly on his side to appear less intimidating. "You're going to aggravate your injuries further."

The child's eyes widened comically as his legs gave out and his breathing accelerated. His body started to tremble as what was no doubt shock, started to settle in. Potter was working himself into a panic attack and Snape needed something to distract him, before he punctured a lung on what were clearly broken ribs. "Look at me!" He snapped, forcing the boy's eyes to look directly into his own.

He moved closer, wanting to comfort but not sure how in this form. It was almost like crawling, using all four limbs to move, but not crawling at the same time. It felt weird. Pulling his mind away from such trivial matters at the moment, he settled several meters from the boy. "Potter…Harry! Look at me. I need you to breathe slowly, in and out. Come on boy, you can do it, in and out. In and out."

Slowly, Potter's breathing evened out as he followed his monotonous instructions. He stretched and arm/wing out and rested it so the elbow was next to the child and it curved around him. It was the closest he would get to a hug, even in his human form. As the boy calmed, he seemed to sag in weariness, and then he felt heat on his arm/wing, as Potter shifted so he was lying against it. The boy gazed at him in wonder as he gazed back in what he hoped conveyed annoyance.

He felt :comfort, safe, secure: in the back of his mind. Snape blinked slowly, before he turned his head away in thought. The heat on his arm-wing, okay it was definitely a wing, was distracting. The boy's magic danced along his…hide? It was trying to heal the injuries caused during the battle.

"Professor," Potter asked, his too green eyes blinking owlishly. He inclined his now massive head to show he was listening before the boy continued. "What happened?"

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Snape was quiet for so long that Harry feared he wouldn't answer. Just as his eyes started to droop in fatigue, the Professor's voice penetrated the fog. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Harry attempted to straighten as he tried to collect his memories. The pain in his ribs prematurely ended such action, and he found himself putting even more weight on the wing surrounding him. The arm, for lack of a better word, was thicker than he was wide, and was surprisingly comfortable. The unnatural heat eased the pain from his ribs and took the edge off of his broken arm.

"Falling," Harry whispered suddenly, the memory of falling was the last he had before he woke up here. He felt :fear, sadness, desperation, hope: and the sixteen year old shook his head to rid himself of the not his feelings.

Snape nodded his head slowly, watching the boy carefully for any signs of anxiety or panic, but the boy remained calm, if a little confused. "That is correct, Mr. Potter. We had both taken a swan dive off of the astronomy tower and were plummeting to our death."

Harry gazed into the large onyx eyes of his Professor as his memory slowly came back to him. He remembered the battle, the fighting, the screaming. Running up the tower, Voldemort's mocking voice not far behind. Kneeling behind his Professor in exhaustion as the Dark Lord forced them closer and closer to the edge. An offer made, refused, arm wrapped around his stomach, an explosion, and then falling.

"But," Harry started, confused. He gazed around the clearing, trying to put the pieces together.

"I used forbidden ancient magic with the knowledge of animagi to turn myself into a Dragon," Snape supplied, voice low and calm.

Harry blinked at him slowly, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Oh," he muttered, seemingly lost for words. A comforting silence surrounded them as they each gathered their thoughts. "But then can't you, you know…" he gestured weakly with his good arm, "Turn back?"

Snape seemed to cringe at the words, sneer no longer present on his draconic face. "Did you ever wonder why an animagus never took the form of a magical creature, Pot—Harry?"

Harry felt his face scrunch up in thought as he picked randomly at the grass. "Not really, no," he mumbled.

The Professor sighed, hot air blowing over the teen and ruffling his already messy hair. "It's impossible to turn into a magical creature–"

"But you did," Harry butted in; cheeks turning crimson as his Professor sneered at him and gave an annoyed huff. Even so, he could feel :exasperation, fondness, amusement:.

"As I was saying," Snape drawled, making Harry's blush even more prominent. "It is impossible to turn into a magical creature and then turn back."

The words struck a chord in him as he started to realize the situation they found themselves in. The consequences of what had happened hit him and disbelief was drowned out by fear. "Yo-you're…" he trailed off, not sure how to finish.

"Stuck like this," Snape supplied quietly, stretching out the rest of his body, tail thumping as it hit the ground, and laying his head upon the grass.

"But," Harry started, voice barely above a whisper. Even so Snape could hear him quite easily. "Fo-for how long?"

The now Dragon snorted loudly and Harry felt :annoyance, fondness:. "Forever, Mr. Potter," he sighed, the words coming out in an odd rumble. "I'm afraid I will live the rest of my life as a Dragon, and then die as one."

Harry's emotions kept shifting so quickly that not even he was sure how he felt about that. He felt fear, desperation, sadness, anxious, anger, resentment. He settled on the feeling he was most familiar with: anger. "But that's not fair!"

Snape shifted once more before he seemed to find a comfortable position. His eyes closed slowly, and his breathing evened out as he let the fatigue over take him. "Life hardly ever is."

They sat in silence for a long time. Both lost in their own thoughts as the sun slowly migrated across the sky. Sleep overtook Harry first, upper body propped upon the wing. Snape soon followed.