Disclaimer: Besides the copies of the books on my bookshelf, I own nothing.

Chapter Thirteen

Their cabin got to go first on the practice fields today, and Harry found that his new form was a morning… dog. He didn't get to roughhouse with the Akhlut the next morning like he did when they practiced in their magical forms. The boy had been correct: His nonmagical form was an orca, so he was with other marine-bodied forms. Instead, Harry and a group of other nonmagical canines played together.

Although he was larger than many of the other dogs, and his bulk eclipsed many of the ones that towered over him, Harry found that his playful nature did not make him naturally over-aggressive with the other dogs. Rather, he found himself "pulling his punches" whenever he met with another dog. He'd bat his front paws playfully, but never hit anyone. He'd open his great maw as wide as could be, and yet he never snapped it closed when it covered another dog.

There was one that kept coming back to him, a small dog of unknown breed, that he would cover his mouth over whenever she got too rambunctious, as if to swallow her, only to breath and remind her she wasn't the big dog on campus (literally). She still kept on coming back for more, for whatever reason. He and a golden retriever that got along decently agreed it was probably small dog syndrome.

This form was more difficult to switch between than his hellhound form. If it got excited, which seemed to be any time another dog or person came up to him (and because he was practicing where he was, that was every second), his tail would wag too hard and he'd forget to even try to change back.

When the registrar finally reached him, the man checked his dimensions and referred to a book that was standard (because there were too many dog breeds in the world to remember them all) and proclaimed Harry to be a "Dogo Argentino." At a request from Harry, the man explained that it was a dog bred in Argentina to be a hunter of big prey, yet be easily capable of becoming a family dog that was never aggressive towards humans. The puppy in his mind whined at the thought of hurting anything that was considered pack. Harry still wasn't certain what Death was warning him about.

…

In the lessons they took previously in the week, Harry knew that his two forms would merge themselves together over time first before merging with himself later on. Without the merge, the spiritualist was in danger of developing multiple personality disorder. If the spiritualist did not start with having split personalities, however, the animal instincts would drive that person to insanity. In other words, while the transformation rarely went wrong (as in, once every several hundred years wrong), when it did go wrong, the spiritualist was the one to suffer for it.

Harry was fairly certain that he was already suffering, anyway.

His magic, already antagonistic, got along swimmingly with his hellhound form. With his Dogo form, not so much. Any time Harry was not transformed into the great, white dog, he could hear the two arguing in the back of his head. Well, his magic was arguing; Harry was fairly sure his puppy form thought the magic was playing with it, yipping at and antagonizing it further. The shouting his magic did at the puppy, Harry was sure, was probably heard without being an auditory-based magical sensor. He could almost feel the magic pulsing along his skin, aching to be used volatilely.

Whenever the two eventually woke his hellhound form up (turns out, the oh-so-scary canine was a couch potato that slept worse than the dead), it would growl menacingly. Rarely did the other two seem to hear it, forcing the most mature out of the three to bark threateningly. They would quiet, and the hellhound went back to sleep.

The moment Harry sighed in relief was the moment the two went back at it. Let's just say, Harry was tired and couldn't wait until the puppy integrated with it's not-nearly-as-noisy counterpart.

Harry stumbled from the shower room he was using after practice. The effort of changing back and forth while having a puppy's attention span was far greater than any Quidditch practice, he was certain. His head was pounding at the fighting in his head. The migraine was so great, in fact, he didn't notice the man in front of the door until he was already bumping into him.

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

Harry heard a grumble, and a warm, soft yet calloused hand landed on his head. Harry nearly leaned into the warmth that soothed his headache, however minutely.

"Come," the man muttered, and Harry was too tired to do nothing but follow.

They reached the med-tent, and Harry almost whined at the thought of having to go back in there. He hated hospitals. Why was he here?

The man situated Harry in a room with a single bed, shuttering the windows closed and turning off all the lights. The room's darkness lessened the pounding in his head enough that Harry finally noticed who led him there: the man who gave the introductory speech to camp when everyone first got there, "Red Chief," according to his magic.

He held in one hand some kind of cloth strip, a steaming Styrofoam cup in the other. He handed the cup over to Harry, and gestured for him to turn around. Harry did so reluctantly, only for him to almost relax, boneless, as the man wrapped the cloth around his forehead like a ninja, tying it in the back. When the man was done, Harry turned back to him.

"Drink," the man muttered softly. Harry found that his low rumble soothed his head as much as the man's warm hand did. "It's peppermint tea. Medicine will not soothe the animals inside, but we have found that relaxing the human body releases at least some of the migraine. Stay in here for the rest of today and tonight, if you are feeling better, you can go back to your cabin. Someone will bring you food from the mess hall, unless you would like to rely on a friend to do so. I will get in contact with your cabin's councilor, and he will send one of your bunkmates up to help you settled in, if you would like?" He looked to see Harry's nod. "Good. What is the name of your councilor?"

"Sam," Harry muttered.

"Sam," the man grumbled. "Very well. Is there anything you need before I go?"

Harry shook his head.

"Remember, keep the hot pack on your head until it cools off. Then, you can have a nurse bring you another, or you can just relax in here. We will try to keep things quiet in here for you, and I would suggest trying to sleep it off. I find it helps to let the spirits settle in on their own terms."

The man nodded at him, then left, closing the door softly behind him.

Harry sipped at his tea in the dark, leaning back on the pillows and trying to relax. His magic and the puppy were still going at it, but without the added influx of sensory information, Harry found that his headache was slowly lessening.

Harry found that he liked the tea, even if it wasn't as strong as what he was used to.

He turned at the door creaking open. Chase shuffled in, obviously trying to stay quiet. It was so dark Harry could barely see his outline. "Hey," he whispered, sliding into a chair beside the bed.

"Hello," Harry whispered back. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you. Sam said your forms were being… overwhelming?"

Harry huffed tiredly. "More like my magic does not get along with my nonmagical form. It just gave me a minor headache."

"Yeah, I've heard that it's actually somewhat common. There's just too much going on at once. It should be gone by the end of the day, though."

"I hope so. I hate it in here. What's the point of going to summer camp if all you do is stay in the sick bay?"

Chase's outline shrugged its shoulders. "Beats me, man. Do you want anything? One of my friends gets chronic migraines, so I know even the small ones can be horrible."

"No, I'm good." Harry looked down, then back up at Chase. "You don't need to stay here, you know. Go outside, have fun. I'm about to take a nap, anyway."

"I don't mind staying here with you," Chase muttered, "but if you're going to sleep, I'll leave you to it. You want me to get you some lunch?"

"Not right now, but maybe later?" Harry couldn't help the hopeful inflection of his voice.

"Sure, any preference?"

"No, just, maybe something soft? I don't think I could chew anything and not have my head explode."

"Deal," he could hear Chase's smile. "Then I'll leave you to it."

The door clicked shut behind him, and Harry settled down on top of the bed, the blankets and comforter under him.

I hate being here, he thought, then drifted off to sleep.

…

Harry stayed in the med-tent all day, sleeping off his headache. He woke twice, once for lunch, and once for dinner. Chase stayed with him throughout the meals, eating with him, then would take the plates back to the dining hall.

Harry found the two reasons for his headache slowly settling down as the day passed. Finally, the puppy drifted off to sleep and his magic huffed down. Even so, Harry stayed in the med-tent overnight to sleep off the lingering headache. Harry learned that day that migraines make him sleepy, which reinforced his need to never get one again. He hated sleeping the day away when he could be doing other things, especially if it landed him in the med-tent.

…

Harry sat with the other boys at breakfast, almost feeling hyper from all the extra rest he got. The two nuisances in his head (yes, you are a nuisance, was directed towards his magic) had finally settled down.

They had two days left of camp to do activities. There would be one final lecture on what to do now that they were spiritualists, but other than that, the rest would be almost like a normal summer camp.

Sam told them that besides the lecture and meals, they were free to do whatever activities they wanted, and they were posted throughout the camp.

Harry and Chase rushed to the canoe races that they missed earlier. Their enthusiasm for the event flipped their boat over, and they had to swim the rest of the way from the middle of the pond, dragging their canoe along. Somehow, they still got third place.

Not even bothering changing, they went to do other outdoor activities, letting the sun dry them off rather than a towel. Their shoes still made suspicious squishing noises, even hours after their unplanned swim.

The obstacle course was Harry's favorite. It held many of the classic elements, but there were certain portions that had to be done in a spiritual form (as long as one was not too big). Harry did so in the Dogo's form, the hellhound snoring away in the back of his mind.

Lunch was a rowdy affair, all the boys hollering over each other to describe their chosen activities. An unplanned food fight broke out (started by a table nearby), so the entire camp spent the rest of the day cleaning the entire hall, yelling jokingly at each other for who was at fault, and who won. Sam claimed he wasn't pleased, but another councilor's spaghetti wig and the amusement in his eyes told the true story.

After the cleanup, there was barely a half an hour left before sundown, so with a quick promise to a suspicious Chase that he would be back before dark, Harry trekked into the forest.

It didn't take him long to find the brook he met the nightmare and miniature dragon the other day. Luckily, they were there waiting for him.

Have you thought about our proposition? The nightmare asked.

I have, Harry hovered. But… but if I do, there's a possible catch.

A catch? What catch? I love playing catch! The dragon's head bobbed excitedly.

I don't really know what it is… exactly, Harry hedged. A warning more than anything. If both the nightmares and the-the Inferno are on the… property… at the same time, your magics might… change? Death wasn't too clear on that.

The nightmare shook its head, almost sending the dragon flying into the forest. I cannot speak for the dragons, but we have no where left. Soon, we will need to leave this place and risk our own deaths and destructions. We are willing to try almost anything, if you will still let us.

We're fine with it! The dragon squeaked.

Harry breathed in and out deeply. He whispered, "Then, all nightmares and dragons you represent are welcome to enter my home in the Realm Between." Harry knew Death said it didn't have to be verbatim, but he'd rather do it right than guess.

The two animals nodded their heads towards Harry, the dragon looking silly because it already looked like it was bowing from the nightmare's nod. We will go tell our brethren, then be off. Thank you, the horse muttered.

Yes, thank you!

With a huff in farewell, they disappeared back into the forest.

Harry trotted back to the campsite. He met up with Chase at the forest's edge.

"You finish what you needed to get done?" the boy asked.

Harry nodded, and they went to the campfire.

…

Harry settled in bed that night exhausted, but happy. Tomorrow would be their last day there, and Harry was looking forward to going back. He loved it at camp, but he was ready to be back in the Higgindobbins' hospitality. He would say it was almost home, but he wasn't quite ready for that. Either way, it would be good to see everyone again.

Hey, Harry? his magic muttered.

Yeah?

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let the mangy mutt get to me. I'm sorry for causing you pain.

Harry felt the Dogo Argentino whimpering in agreement. He felt such love, then, that it almost overwhelmed him. If it wasn't for the fact that neither were truly merged with him, he would think himself narcissistic. As it was, Harry knew, at that point, without a doubt, he loved his three companions that shared his mind. They were not him, not yet, and they had to learn themselves before becoming one. Even then, his magic would forever be as it was with him: a companion closer than any other could be.

I'm glad you both could work out your differences. I forgive you. Let's let bygones be bygones, okay?

Okay. Still, we're sorry.

Harry slept well that night, dreaming with the other three consciousnesses. None could remember quite what they dreamed about the next morning, but they all agreed that they finally felt at peace with all their other parts, and that was enough.

Honestly, wasn't planning on making this conflict until I started writing this chapter. Hope it wasn't too confusing. Wanted it to be a little longer… Oh well.

Kris-B71854: Love that you got so into it. I'll try to go in order. Yes, it is the summer after third year. Honestly, I forgot about the Dursleys. Guess I was just like 'hey, they always ignore him and him then, why bother going any farther?' You actually gave me some great ideas, so thank you for that. No planned pairings. If I do anything about him noticing girls, it will be somewhat like the books where he notices their beauty, but doesn't actively think about it. Your assumption about Chase is correct. The thing is, Harry is so socially awkward, he doesn't understand his friendship connections all that well, and so he has to compare what he's feeling to what he knows (or that's what I'd think would happen). The fact that its occurring so fast has him questioning it further than he would normally… if that makes sense. I like your thought process about the secret service, but I can't say anything for sure. Because the dragons and nightmares are in the Realm Between, I doubt Harry would risk his godfather's magic changing even if he could go there as a grim. And that's what the whole seer information was for. Glad you like it! Hope I can keep it up.

dragons9: No planned pairings. Honestly haven't gotten that far as to think about custody battles and the like.

setokayba2n: You'll just have to see. Mwahahaha. Actually, I'm not sure what I'll do about the ghosts, yet. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Svenion: The whole quilt thing somewhat reflected on how I perceive shopping for something new that's customizable. Too many options, and the person that's helping me both knows so much that it both helps and hurts. And yes, I overexplain things anyway. I'm trying… Honest!

VizeerLord: I'm guessing you're talking about for the characters? Harry will be the one consistent one, so it's the only one I have up. Here's a new chapter for the "more please."

Nocte Furorem: You got it!

bob19h: Oops… my bad. Hope this chapter helped…?

And for all the other positive reviewers: Thank you!

Published: 1/6/19 (My new year's resolution is to put "2019" instead of "2018." I've already given up on it; I know I'll fail until June.)

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