Author's Note: Thank you to my followers who have kept reading and reviewing! I promise I've not forgotten about Love Is Alive. I needed a long break from it, but things are slowly picking back up. This story is a fun little piece I've been working on for the past few months. It's definitely an A/U! A special thank you goes to Sakubato, my new Beta/Alpha. He's been great!
June 1990 at the home of the Potters, location unknown:
"Dad, am I old enough now?" a nearly ten-year-old Harry Potter pleaded one night whilst playing Exploding Snap with his dad and godfather. His question caught both men off guard, resulting in loud pops and leaving them both with sooty faces and singed eyebrows. This caused the boy to fall over, raucous laughter emanating from his small body.
Lily dashed into the room, a tea towel in one hand, a cracked plate in the other. "Merlin, Harry! What happened?" she questioned, trying to be heard over his giggles.
"Asked...dad...for training…" he managed between fits of laughter, finally collapsing sideways on the settee.
James and Sirius sat grumbling while Lily spelled their faces clean, put out that a ten year old beat them at their own game!
"Harry, I know you've been asking your Dad for Animagus training," his Mum said, "but you already know the answer," she finished, pinning her husband with a stare.
"But love, it's traditionnnn!" James whinged, pouting.
"Absolutely not, James," she interrupted. "He'd use it to wreak havoc at Hogwarts, just like you and Sirius did," she said, flicking the towel and smacking James gently with it.
Sirius gasped, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "Me, Lils? You really think I'd corrupt him?"
"Lily, darling, I promise we'll teach him to use his gift responsibly!" he cried, Padfoot bobbing his head rapidly in agreement.
"Responsible is my middle name!" Sirius chimed in, standing to stretch deeply, much like his Animagus would.
"Yes, you'd corrupt him," Lily retorted, rolling her eyes. "And I swear to Merlin, if you even think about teaching him the same pranks you pulled at Hogwarts, you'll both be in the doghouse," she warned them, giving them her patented glare, hands on her hips. Sirius whinged like the dog he was in response.
She glanced down at Harry, who had finally calmed. "Harry, if your Dad teaches you, you must use it wisely and stay out of trouble. Am I clear?" Harry nodded immediately. "Yes Mum!" he chirped, wearing a grin.
Lily sighed, knowing she was resigned for a future of pranks and trouble from her son and his "teachers" aka his Dad and Padfoot, who were nothing more than enablers. "If I ever get a letter from any of your professors at Hogwarts, you won't be allowed to use it again til you're eighteen! Secondly, you'll wear a bell with a collar and I'll know every time you transform," she said, with stern looks at all three of her boys.
A blur of young boy gallomped her, arms tightly around her waist. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Mum!" he shouted excitedly. "Woohoo! I get to be an Animagus!" the young wizard yelled excitedly, running to and fro about the room.
-A Few Weeks Later-
Harry had been the perfect student when it came to meditating for his form. Plenty of mishaps had occurred along the way too, of course.
His second meditating lesson turned into 'house repair day' when he overpowered his meditation and made a hole in the ceiling of the home gym.
-Flashback-
"Okay, Harry. This second session of meditation will help you find your animagus form, or at least in what environment it would live," his dad told him. "If you remember your first meditation, it was working on clearing your mind and preparing it for transformation," he continued.
"Let's just hope your form isn't a flobberworm!" Sirius piped up, unable to keep the smirk off his face. The young boy smiled nervously as he seated himself cross-legged on the provided yoga mat. His dad and godfather joined him on mats on either side of their young student, seated in the same manner as Harry.
"Alright, inhale…," James began. A few moments later the command of "exhale" was heard. He continued: "Now close your eyes and allow yourself to visualise the landscape where your animal self might live."
Unlike when he and the other Marauders were training to be Animagi, which involved a mandrake leaf, the process was now less… painful.
James glanced at his son out of the corner of his eye, then closed them both, going into his own meditative state. He was playing with Prongs in a serene forest mindscape, when a loud crash yanked him out of it.
"I'm alright, Dad!" Harry called down, giggling. He peered down from the gaping hole in the ceiling, rubbing his head.
"Son, how did you do that?!" James leapt up, bewildered.
"I, erm...honestly was just meditating, Dad," he replied sheepishly.
"Well, at least we know you won't be a flobberworm, Prongslett!" Sirius called up, smirking.
End of Flashback
Mishaps aside, Harry felt confident that he'd quickly achieve his form. He really wanted to beat his Dad's record— nearly five months before he successfully transformed! It had been two months since the process had begun. Don't misunderstand; Harry was delighted to study from the best (in his opinion, anyway). So far, in the two months, he'd managed to sprout whiskers on his face and fur on his arms and legs, but that was it. At least he was making more progress than his Dad had, according to Padfoot. The aforementioned man had taken great delight in regaling his young godson with tales of the numerous failures he'd witnessed James experience. The best one, according to Sirius, was once when James partially transformed from the waist down and couldn't get back to normal for nearly three days.
"Dad, can I please try the transformation? You and Padfoot said if I completed my meditations, I could work on transforming… So can I Dad?" Harry begged a week or so later during a round of Monopoly on a lazy Sunday afternoon. It was three days before his birthday, and his Mum was occupied with party preparations.
James chortled and pushed the small game table aside, reaching for his son. He ruffled his boy's hair, wrapping him a tight hug. Soon, he feared Harry would shy away from his Dad's affections so he took advantage of him still being young enough to appreciate them.
He took Harry into the gym, flicking his wand to clear enough space for him to transform. "Okay, son. The most important thing to remember is that even if you don't succeed in transforming, I am incredibly proud of you for trying," he said, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders.
The young boy nodded, trying to swallow the nervous lump in his throat. "Alright Dad, I'm ready," Harry said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He crossed the room to the spot his dad had cleared for him, where he'd hopefully transform into something really cool— like a panther!
He closed his eyes, waiting nervously for the sensations he'd previously experienced to start again this time, the day of his transformation. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Harry felt a new, stronger tingling sensation working its way through his body. He felt muscles contracting, which meant at least something was happening. He kept feeling his body shift and change, then stillness.
"Harry, open your eyes." a familiar voice commanded. He slowly cracked one eye open, then the other. Everything was sharper than his human sight, brighter, crisper, it seemed. "Here, have a look at yourself," the same voice said. Harry walked on unsteady legs towards the voice, finding himself standing in front of a mirror. He was a panther alright. A house panther— even further, a small black kitten! He immediately hissed at his reflection, feeling threatened by the creature staring back at him, which caused peals of laughter to emanate from above him. He looked at the feet of those around him, then upward to identify them. His dad and godfather were gathered around him, guffawing. Lily heard the laughter emanating from the room and came in to see what was causing it. "Oh look at the wittle baby kitty animagus!" she cooed, trying and failing to stifle her own laughter. Harry would have blushed if he were capable, but instead he sulked away. His sulking was interrupted by a pair of hands picking him up and rubbing his chin. He melted like goo, purring at his Mum's ministrations, not bothered by the Marauders' teasing and laughter.