Inventing a whole new sub-branch of magic was exhausting, Minerva had discovered. The notes Flitwick had provided had helped, but not nearly enough.

In regards to Harry's predicament, they had discovered two potential fixes. The first, a solution that they were reasonably certain would work, but only in the short term, was merely awaiting Dumbledore to craft an appropriate anchor for the spell. Once that was done, Harry could hopefully assume a human form, though the spell would be easily broken by a simple Finite Incantatem.

The other option, the one she was rather certain would be their permanent solution, involved more arithmancy than she had used in a long time. She'd even had to bother Septima Vector to check her work, and had to explain in the vaguest possible terms what it was even for — and that had been a pain too.

In the end, she was reasonably certain that she was ninety percent done with the development process. All that was left was some calculations to get the exact values she needed to complete the spell formula; for that, all she needed now was to wait. Above her head, a cloud of numbers made out of green mist swirled around, interacting with each other based on predefined rules. She only needed to fuel the spell and it would give her the answer in time.

But for now, she was free to relax a little. And though she didn't have enough time to truly get involved in another major task, she had the time to pick up and skim the Daily Prophet.

Escape from Azkaban!

She knew that man. How could she not? A past student, a traitorous ally: Sirius Black. And he was free.

"Oh no..."

"Should we tell him?" Minerva asked.

Her friend, mentor, and headmaster shook his head. "My dear, let's not worry about that for now. Black is weak from Azkaban and without a wand. I daresay he poses no threat to Harry as the boy is now. Plus, even if Sirius did manage to track down Petunia Dursley, she would not be able to point him in our direction."

Minerva wanted to ask what had happened in regards to Harry's relatives, but didn't.

"We should allow Harry to live his childhood for now. If the situation should change for the worse, we will of course inform the boy. Until then, let's not add any additional worries to his plate." A contemplative look formed on the headmaster's face. "Also, while I am fairly certain that I know how each of his heads would react to this news, I am unsure what the consensus of those reactions would be. Predicting his behavior has become increasingly complex."

Minerva let out a soft chuckle, though with a distinctly morbid undertone to it. "I fear Red would be far too aggressive and Green would only encourage them. No force on Earth could get me to step in front of an angry, fifty ton dragon."

"Try three hundred tons. His skeleton is nearly solid metal and his flesh is infused with it. Harry is deceptively heavy."

"And you've just made my point stronger," Minerva exclaimed partially in exasperation, partially in shock. "How does he even stand?!"

"Magical reinforcement."

The transfiguration professor looked at the cloud of numbers above her head, which were now working on a different problem than before. "I might have to readjust my work..."

"Take your time."

Minerva let out a long breath. "Albus, be honest with me, can this work?"

"Your project?"

She shook her head. "No. I mean caring for Harry, especially if my project doesn't work. He's depleted the castle's stock twice and made a sizeable dent in that Room of Hidden Things' supply of materials. We cannot afford to feed him."

The twinkle never faded from Albus's eyes. "Minerva, I already have several potential solutions for that, if worse comes to worst. But, like with Sirius Black, I have elected not to mention them until they become relevant. Hogwarts can afford to play host to a dragon for a while longer still; we are not without resources yet."

Each flap of our wings let off a thunderous boom as we powered through the air at breakneck speeds. Our flight was faster than ever, and we had the man on our back to thank.

Giants, even half-giants, have magic reinforcing their bodies. Wizards do too, but rather than the innate defenses of giant-kind, wizard magic actively guarded them from mundane attacks and injuries. Ironically, this lead wizards to have the exact opposite perspective on that magic as giants; wizards saw their natural defenses as mere good luck while giants felt their magic as if it were a muscle in their body. And like all muscles, it could be trained.

Most giants were too stupid to think on that fact very much. Hagrid, however, was not stupid. Oh, by human standards, he was no Dumbledore, but he could think circles around giants. Now, take a man like that, give him a taste of magic, and then deny him his wand. And then, once you've done that, let him work in a job that gives him a lot of time to think and access to the best magic knowledge in the UK.

The end result? Hagrid's whole body was effectively enchanted. He was far stronger and faster than he had any right to be, even considering his already massive stature. He could punch through rock, bend metal with his bare hands, and, according to him, wrestle on par with full giants.

Hagrid, who had a keen sense for animals, figured out that we did exactly the same thing with our magic in our wings to fly. He taught us how to feel it and how to control it, and though we weren't very good at it yet, we were loads better at it now than before.

Which lead to where we, Hagrid included, were: flying over the Scottish Highlands at well over a hundred miles per hour. He was riding on the back of Yellow's neck, arms and legs clutched just tight enough to secure him without crushing Yellow's neck — which, considering we're a dragon with a metal skeleton, meant he was holding on with enough force to snap normal bones.

"WANT TO DO SOME STUNTS, HAGRID?!" Red roared, his voice the only one of all of us loud enough to be heard over the wind. In response, Hagrid tapped his right hand once against Yellow's neck; yes. "ALRIGHT, GET READY!"

We dove, accelerating even faster than before. The wind threatened to rip Hagrid off, but his grip held fast. We angled one wing up and the other down, setting us spinning. Out of the mouths of every Head but Yellow's, we spewed massive jets of flame that spiraled around us as we fell towards the lake below us.

As the water approached, we stopped our spin and aimed generally towards the shoreline. We then flaired our wings extra wide to bleed off fall speed for extra lift.

We were slowing, but we weren't losing speed fast enough, and we were still falling pretty quick. We strained, pouring extra magic into our wings to help keep us aloft; it helped, but it was too little too late. We'd nearly leveled out, but our tail splashed into the water. The unexpected drag threw us off balance. We overcompensated, flipping us arse-over-teakettle into the water.

It was cold, very cold. Our internal flame tried to warm us, but all that did was make our need to breathe all the more urgent. We floundered and thrashed.

Suddenly, Grey's head breached the surface. Breathing for all of us, he gulped down some air before our shifting mass pulled him back under.

The next head that surfaced was Yellow, and thanks to Grey's breath, we'd had a moment to right ourselves. Thus, when Yellow came up, he stayed up. The other heads followed shortly.

"that was stupid," Grey grumbled as we treaded water. Despite our insane mass, we didn't sink.

"Agreed. We need to practice some more."

"Forget that! Hagrid!" Blue shouted, both reminding the rest of us and calling for the man himself.

Green plunged back into the water while Red craned his head backwards. The rest of us looked everywhere else.

"There he is!" Under Yellow's control, we started paddling to the giant. To our relief, he was conscious and treading water as well.

"That's gonna bruise in the mornin'," Hagrid grumbled. "You all alright, Harry?"

"We're fine. The water's cold."

"Downright frigid, I'll say. Odd for the summer." He swam towards us and grabbed onto one of the many spikes protruding from our body. Blue and Yellow nodded, then we all turned and swam towards shore, our wings and legs as paddles and our tail a rudder.

It didn't take terribly long to get to shore, and now that we could breathe, our fire kept us all warm during the swim. We lumbered onto shore, Hagrid sliding off as we did. Immediately, Hagrid peeled off his soaking jacket and shirt, wringing the latter out before using it to partially dry his hair and beard. He then wrung out the shirt again.

During the whole process, we got a good look at Hagrid's body. For a man in his sixties (which wasn't even that old by wizard standards), he was in extremely good shape with well defined muscles. Hell, if we'd still been human, we would have wanted a body like that. His body was such a stark contrast to the blob that was our uncle or the sick that was our aunt, and considering that that body was owned by one of the kindest people we knew...

Well, we had "big and strong" down pat, that's for certain. Though, we'd never once have thought we'd be looking up to Hagrid of all people in regards to our looks. Nor had we thought we'd have been contemplating our looks all that much to begin with. Now though, Green was thinking about how looking strong could help us in the future, Red was thinking about getting a girlfriend using our hypothetical muscles to impress her, and Blue was vainly thinking about being the strongest guy in Gryffindor. Well, the strongest human guy.

Yellow didn't care, of course, and Grey's self-doubt brought us back to our senses in order to deal with the matter at hand: Hagrid was freezing. Using our claws, we scooped up a bunch of the black mud into a pile and then together baked it in flame until it was glowing red-hot. "There you go, Hagrid. Warm up by that."

"Thank ya, Harry." Hagrid nodded appreciatively and sat down by the glowing stone mound. We laid down behind him, sheltering him from the cool breeze as he dried off. He leaned back against us. "You know, I always wanted a dragon. Strangely enough, this was one of the things I imagined doing with it."

"Lying against us?" Blue asked.

"Yes, but flying with you too."

Even Grey smiled a bit at that. We'd all always loved flying; flying with our friend only made it more fun.

"Hopefully we didn't hurt you too badly when we crashed."

"Nah." Hagrid chuckled. "Grawp's hurt me worse. Nothing a little time wouldn't fix."

"Grawp?" "Who's that?"

"My brother. Well, half-brother. My mother left me and my dad and had a son with another giant, then abandoned Grawp because he was a runt too." Hagrid shrugged. "Grawpy and I wrestle sometimes. Occasionally, I even win."

"Ssssomehow, that doesssn't sssurprissse usss," Green chuckled.

Hagrid put his thick arms behind his head and gazed up at the fluffy clouds and crisp blue sky. "Maby one day, we could go an meet him. If you were just a normal boy, I'd be worried for yer safety among the giants. But as you are now, I think you'd be just fine."

"Do giants have their own city?" Yellow inquired.

Hagrid shook his head. "Nah. They're nomadic. They live in camps. Well, a camp." He sighed. "There aren't many giants left." Our heads sank while Grey also looked away. "Now don't you worry about that, Harry. They're not gone yet."

We were silent for a bit after that. Hagrid had basically just implied that a race of people was dying off. We knew a little about Giants — Lockhart was only mostly useless — and what we knew wasn't flattering. Yet that was no reason to wish them gone.

Silence fell between us for a bit. Occasionally, we'd reheat the now stone mound that we'd made to continue to help Hagrid dry off, but when that wasn't happening, we just looked around and listened.

It was strange. Normally, we'd get a little bit fidgety if we didn't have something to occupy us — a bad habit we'd picked up while at Hogwarts — but right now, we were content to just sit and enjoy the world around us and the silent company of the man who was our first friend.

Our silence was only broken when Green started sniffing and then licking the black mud. "It tastes like petrol," Blue remarked upon tasting it through Green's tongue.

"Is that a good thing?" Hagrid asked. We answered by shoveling a claw-full of mud and stone into our mouths, then another, then more still.

"WE HAVEN'T HAD GOOD PETROL IN A WHILE! CANDLE WAX IS GOOD, BUT NOT AS GOOD AS THIS!" Red explained before shoving his face into the ground and taking a big bite out of the dirt.

Hagrid chuckled. "Blimey, I can hear your stomach churning loud as a dragon's... roar," he finished lamely, realizing mid-idiom who — and what — he was talking to.

"EVEN AS LOUD AS I AM, ONLY RON HAS A STOMACH LOUDER THAN HIS OWN VOICE!" Red bellowed before promptly shoving more of the black mud into his mouth. We were quickly running out of what was in reach of our mouths and claws without standing up to graze around. A hole had formed in front of us and was quickly starting to fill with oily lakewater as it seeped through the mud.

"Does he now?" Hagrid asked, amused. "Anyway, enjoy your snack before we go back. Less the castle has to feed ya."

"Oh, we will." "Yes, definitely." "MMM HHHMMM!"

After we returned from our unexpected delay, we found Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Headmaster Dumbledore waiting for us by Hagrid's hut. We landed alongside them with a heavy thud, our feet sinking slightly into the soft earth. Hagrid hopped off my back. "Hello, everyone. Hope we didn't keep you waiting."

"Not terribly long," Dumbledore asked. His eyes lingered on Hagrid's still-bare chest, then the damp shirt and jacket slung over his shoulder. "Though I must say, it is unusual to see you without a shirt, Hagrid."

"We accidentally fell in the lake," Blue interjected in Hagrid's defense. "He was just drying off."

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Blue, I was merely commenting, not accusing."

"It's all right, Harry," Hagrid agreed. He quickly pulled his still-damp shirt back on. "Now, what can we do for you?"

McGonagall pulled out a stone pendant on a very long chain. "This is a temporary fix to Harry's present troubles. Hopefully, this should at least allow you to fit in the castle." She walked towards us. "Do you have a preference on who wears it?"

"I'll take it, Professor McGonagall." Yellow bowed his head and allowed her to string the pendant around his neck. As it slid down to our shoulders, the chain shrank until it was snug, but not uncomfortably so, against our neck.

"That is a shell-transfiguration pendant. Tap it with your claw."

We did so. Unlike other transfigurations we'd seen, there was no transition. One instant, we were a literal five-headed dragon; the next, we were a literal one-headed boy. And while our new body worked as expected, our head jerked around as each of us, disoriented as we were, fought for control. We didn't know what was going on, but we did notice when McGonagall leveled her wand at us and incanted, "Dividerus Geminio."

And then there were five of us again.

We looked at each other. In a circle stood five human Harry Potters, each with their own body. Yet, as if we were still connected, we could share each others senses and memories. By consensus, since we couldn't immediately tell who was who, we called out our names.

"Blue."

"RED!"

"Green."

"Yellow."

"Grey..."

"We all sound alike." "Is that a bad thing?" "THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN!" "At leassst Red isss ssstill obviousss." "And you still hiss." "I'm already uncomfortable..." "Give it a chance, Grey."

Then, in perfect unison, we turned to McGonagall and the others. "This could work," Blue said.

"It should, assuming you don't break it," McGonagall replied. "One of the many faults of shell-transfigurations." At our curious gazes, she elaborated, "Shell-transfiguration is, in my opinion, the lesser cousin to what I teach at Hogwarts, and what Professor Dumbledore taught me: infusion-transfiguration."

Slipping into lecture mode, McGonagall continued, "Infusion is the art of injecting your magic into an object and transforming its very essence. It applies a direct, real transformation. In contrast, Shelling forms a magical shell around an object, hence the name, and then transfigures that shell. The end result is nearly the same to a nonmagical observer, but shell-transfiguration leaves the original object untouched by magic. This unfortunately means that the transformation is fragile and easily broken by hostile magic. So, Mr. Potter, if you get hit with a spell, even a simple jinx, you will rather dramatically change back."

"But you cast another spell on us," Blue observed.

"I did not; I cast a spell on the shell, not on you," McGonagall corrected. "I duplicated the shell and gave each of you control over one. This is as much to protect the students around you as much as it is to help you."

"How so?"

"Think of the shells as bubbles. If you pop the bubble, the real you falls out — and squishes anyone standing too close. But, you are now spread among five bubbles in a superposition. If one pops—" Here, she fired a bright, red spell at Grey. His body vanished. Suddenly, the four remaining heads we had would sporadically twitch as Grey seemed to bounce invisibly between them. "—the rest remain."

McGonagall continued firing spells, destroying three more bodies, leaving us all crammed once more into one. "Only when the last one breaks do you reemerge." She popped the last body. With a boom and a thud, we reemerged, though not oriented in the same direction as before.

"Does it matter what order they're popped in?" Blue asked.

"Thankfully, no. As long as any one of you stays in a safe location, you and those around you will stay safe."

"Got it. So the pendant makes us human, and then you split us into separate bodies." Yellow summarized.

"No. It makes you look human, weigh as much as a human, and limits your strength to that of a human, but you are still, at all times, a dragon. You will still need to eat as much as one," McGonagall corrected. "That is why this is a temporary fix."

"And while we're on the subject," Dumbledore added, "the magic of that pendant has to cope with a very large target." He gave our bulk a significant look. "It will break in mere weeks if you tried to use it non-stop. Throw in its other problems, and it's best if you don't bother eating, sleeping, or taking care of your hygiene and bodily functions with the transformation active. Simply tapping the pendant will toggle the transformation, though you'll have to have one of the staff reapply the duplication each time."

"And don't you worry about that, Harry," Flitwick added. (We'd almost forgotten he was there.) "I'll make sure all the staff know the spell so that they can help you."

"YOU GUYS ARE BRILLIANT, YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?! THANK YOU SO MUCH!" Red wholeheartedly bellowed, drowning out the various thanks the rest of us gave at the same time.

"You're quite welcome," Dumbledore said.

"I'm almost certain that we can begin the process of making you into a reverse-animagus within the month." And despite the mildly pessimistic comment that followed, McGonagall's small smile didn't fade. "Harry, it will take months and a lot of hard work from you to learn this, if you even can. I promise — no, we promise — that we will do all in our power to help you get back to a normal life."

Tears welled up in our eyes. "thank you..." Grey's soft voice spoke. Two words, spoken at barely more than a whisper, and yet they perfectly captured the mix of emotions that we collectively were feeling.

"You are very welcome."

Though our transformation pendant (the Form Stone, we'd dubbed it) sat around our neck, it was, at the moment, inactive. We were also lying belly up, sprawled across the courtyard in front of Hogwarts's main entrance. Wands were waving around us, casting charm after charm. Divination charms, specifically.

While us thought that divination was about predicting the future (it was, and that was the main use of it), any charm that primarily gave the caster information was apparently a divination charm.

Of the three wands currently casting spells at us, no two were casting the same set. Madam Pomfrey was using medical charms to examine my health in order to form a baseline. Professor Flitwick was studying the flow of my magic, something he'd said early on was quite unique. Lastly, Professor Dumbledore was studying the materials that made up my body.

The only person we'd expected to be here that wasn't, was Professor Trelawney, the divination professor that we'd have this coming school year. Considering all the divination spells everyone was using, we thought she would have been right there with them.

It was Dumbledore's examination that held our curiosity, especially Blue and Green's, the most. Our bones were adamantine, our scales were dusky mithril, and our nerves were coated in orichalcum. None of those metals existed naturally, until now. We also had a complex digestive system with two stomachs: a traditional one for organic matter and hydrocarbons (like petrol and candle wax), and another one that was a literal furnace, complete with superheated flames hot enough to liquefy tungsten that somehow didn't burn the rest of me. If Dumbledore could figure out how to make any of those materials by watching how my body made them, we could replicate the processes and use them to make money.

And money meant food.

Oh, sure, we could hunt in the forbidden forest for meat and eat rocks for metals, but we'd rather have the good stuff — cooked foods, pure metals, and all the fuel we could eat and drink. That cost money, a lot of money. Up until now, we'd never really thought about what we would do when we grew up. But now, since growing up was the very problem, we were starting to really consider it.

"Alright, Harry," Dumbledore said, startling us out of our thoughts and our cloud watching. "I think that's all we need from you today.

We looked about, noting that both Flitwick and Pomfrey had stepped back, and that the latter looked like she was rather interesting in being anywhere else. We rolled over, careful not to crush anyone, then stood. "Alright. We'll be in the library if you need anything. Could you...?" We tapped our form stone, both to change us and to indicate that we needed to be split again.

Dumbledore casually flicked his wand, spawning five boys into existence, each with our hair appropriately colored. Each one of us came pre-dressed in our Hogwarts uniforms (which were physically attached to these shell bodies), though the ties were also color-coded to match us. "Thanks," Blue said for us.

"Of course."

(A/N: Slight edit on 8/13/2017)