Harry Potter is owned by J K Rowling, I'm just playing with it for a little while.
Author's Note
It has been too long since I last posted a chapter. Far...far...too long...
So much had changed since March when the shop in which I had worked for passing on ten years finally closed. Instead of transferring to the new store with the rest of my collegues I took a chance and transferred to a diffrent part of the same company who were opening a new shop in that very same building. I was a bit unsure about my ability to sell bicycles at first, but then I got let loose in the workshop building the things.
Who knew such happiness could be had from putting bicycles together.
So yes, I have a new career in the bike business and am aiming to train as a mechanic.
Now I'm more settled of course, I've been able to get back into the writing so hopefully the next chapter won't take anywhere near as long. Here's hoping anyway :-D
Chapter 4
The walk out of the Castle and down the lawn was tense and silent, and also lonely. Umbridge had locked the others in an empty classroom, promising to come back and "deal with them" later. Though, considering the basic locking charm she had used, he reckoned Hermione would have them out of there in a matter of minutes.
"You'd better not be playing me boy," Umbridge snarled as they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest coming to a halt just at the edge of the tree-line, the small group of students piling up behind her.
Harry, already under the trees turned to look back at her, puzzled. Was it possible that Umbridge was scared? Certainly her minions looked distinctly uncomfortable, shifting unhappily as they stared back at him. "Are we really going in there?" he heard Goyle whisper.
"You don't think Dumbledore would leave something this important lying around the Castle where just anyone could stumble over it, do you?" Harry shook his head sadly and set off further into the Forest, thankful his sense of direction seemed to carry over from Quill, or he hoped it did.
Soon he heard rustling and snapping twigs behind him as Umbridge and her hanger-on's lumbered into the Forest, trying to catch up with him.
Shame.
He led them further in, away from the Castle and the Lake, the ground slowly becoming more rugged and harder going as they moved into the mountains, the trees growing ever thicker around them as they clambered over low rocky outcrops among the bracken.
"How much further," he heard Malfoy complain in the distance, "I'm a wizard for Merlin's sake, not some mudblood only good for physical labour."
Harry rolled his eyes at the Slytherin's whinging before smirking with vicious glee as he spotted the sign he was looking for, a thick white web clinging to a low branch.
Behind him he heard rasping breaths, like some dying animal, as Umbridge finally caught up with him. She was looking distinctly dishevelled now, red-faced and sweaty, the pink bow that sat on her head knocked askew, small twigs and leaves stuck in her hair.
The new look quite suited her, Harry thought.
"This had better be worth it," she growled between huffed breaths, pointing her wand at him. But he could tell she didn't really have the strength left to do anything much, she was so shockingly unfit.
The students scrambling up behind her weren't much better. School robes rumbled and marked with mud, they staggered up the slope to join them.
Harry hopped off his rock, jauntly carrying on up the slope. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder at the bedraggled group as he led them to their doom, a feeling of gleeful anticipation growing in his chest with each patch and swathe of cobwebs he spotted.
"I don't like it," one of the older students announced, clearly nervous. The other seemed to agree, disgruntled and frightened muttering growing, and Harry began to wonder if he would have a sort of mutiny on his hands in a moment. He needn't have worried though.
"Shut-up!" screeched Umbridge. She turned on him, exhausted and angry. "It had better not be much further Potter," she snarled.
Harry quickly glanced up into the trees as something large scuttled above them, barely making a sound. Not much further now…
There was a soft thud as one of the larger Acromautula dropped from the trees cutting off their escape, as more of the giant spiders rained down from the trees completely surrounding them in a ring of clicking and rustling and dimly glowing eyes.
Predictably there was absolute chaos as Umbridge and her minions panicked, milling uselessly as they found themselves surrounded, screaming and crying as they pleaded with him to help, Umbridge's shouts of helpless fear and anger the loudest of the lot.
"What? What is the meaning of this?" Umbridge's face was pale in the light from her lumos charm, the small gaggle of students huddling behind her seeking what protection they could.
He knew he should feel concerned or something for them, but he just couldn't find it within himself to actually care. They'd willingly followed the evil pink toad where ever she led, so what did they expect.
"Answer me boy!" Umbridge was screaming now, clearly terrified beyond reason as the Acromantula circled closer.
He smiled at her, and she jerked back, her anger disappearing like smoke. "This is the secret," his smile broadened. "Enjoy."
And then he was off, lunging past the encroaching Acromantula, his form shifting and blurring mid-leap as he changed form, determined to put as much distance between himself and the possible carnage as possible.
He paused for a moment, perching on top of a rocky outcrop near the Centaurs' village, listening to the faint screams of pure animal terror drifting on the breeze.
They abruptly stopped.
Cocking his head, he listened as the usual Forest sounds resumed. Satisfied he jumped down from his perch scuttling off into the bracken.
He nearly made it all the way to his dorm room undetected. Unfortunately he made it into the Common Room to find Ron and Hermione waiting for him.
"What did you do?" Hermione seemed torn between fury and concern, Ron hovering behind her, face pale.
"Nothing much," Harry shrugged as he edged past them towards the dorm stairs. "Just a little walk in the Forest, all that lovely fresh air. I'm sure it'll do her the world of good."
"Err, Harry," Ron seemed to be coming to some sort of horrible realisation, "there are things in there that eat people."
"Really?" Harry couldn't help his broadening smile. "But she's the Ministry approved Defence teacher. I'm sure there's nothing in there that would cause her trouble…see you in the morning guys."
He dived up the stairs ignoring their shouts, eager for a shower and a chat with Sirius.
oOo
Harry couldn't help the little bubble of hope that busily swelled in his chest as he made his way down to breakfast.
Surely Umbridge hadn't made it back out of the Forest yet…or ever, the feathered part of his mind pointed out, helpfully bringing up grizzly images of the pink-toad woman being eaten alive by several very hungry Acromantula, complete with sound effects.
It made him feel quite peckish, he found as he peered hopefully round the doors into the Great Hall, checking the staff table to see who had already arrived, the smell of food making his stomach growl angrily.
No pink toad.
Satisfied he padded over to the Gryffindor table and breakfast. Unfortunately his good mood was not to last.
"Honestly, for the last time," Harry snapped, his temper beginning to rise. "I led her into the Forest with her little group tagging along, and then I ran for it. All the way to the Castle. That's it."
Ron and Hermione shared a look over the table, currently laden with breakfast including a large tureen of porridge. He'd actually tried some this morning and it was quiet nice once he'd buried it under a layer of fruit and honey. If only his friends were as easy to deal with as breakfast.
"Harry," Hermione was clearly stealing herself, choosing her words carefully. "There's a lot of dangerous things in the Forest…things that would happily eat humans…"
Yes, that was why he'd taken the awful woman there in the first place, Harry stifled his sigh.
"Umbridge is the Defence Teacher," Harry tried to patiently explain, yet again, "I'm sure as a fully trained adult Witch she is more than capable of dealing with whatever the Forest decides to throw at her, up to and including Acromantula."
Okay, maybe he was laying it on a little thick, because Ron and Hermione were both giving him funny looks now. Finishing his breakfast he did his best to leave without attracting attention.
"Potter!"
Well, scratch that, Harry winced as he glanced round to find Snape bearing down on him, face a rictus of fury, robes billowing dramatically around him, promising pain, torture and probably detention.
"Er…Sir?" Harry attempted to sidle away towards the stairs and possible escape.
Unfortunately Snape caught up with him, grabbing hold of his shoulder none too gently. "You have some explaining to do," the furious man hissed, eyes blazing with barely contained rage, and something else. If Harry was being brutally honest, and throwing caution to the wind, he's almost say that Snape was worried. Why, he hadn't a clue.
"Explain Sir?" Harry was pretty certain Snape would have launched into a terrifying…something, shouting, violence, he wasn't sure, but at that moment the Main Doors creaked open just enough to admit a shambling shuffling figure.
Malfoy staggered into the Castle, hair wild and full of twigs, his robes a torn and filthy mess. He was also nursing his right arm, cradling it against his chest, his wrist purple with bruising and cricked at an odd angle.
Harry suspected a hefty dose of skelegrow in Malfoy's future. It seemed Snape was having similar thoughts, having abandoned him to stride over to his bedraggled Slytherin.
Seeing his opportunity Harry backed away loosing himself among the gathering crowd of students who just happened to be passing by. Best to make himself scarce before Snape remembered him. Hopefully that would be the end of the matter; Malfoy could tell all about Umbridge and the Forest.
Unfortunately nobody else seemed to agree with him and his luck ran out mid-morning when he was dragged out of class by a prefect and escorted all the way to the Headmaster's office.
oOo
"…Professor Umbridge should have been more than capable of protecting them," Harry pointed out the small crowd of disapproving adults. "After all she was the Defence Professor. She needed to have the right qualifications to teach the subject, so of course she would have known exactly what to do when faced with Acromantula…way more than me anyway. I don't even have my OWLs yet…" he trailed off.
Snape and McGonagall seem utterly unmoved by his logic, standing statue like by the Headmaster's desk, their expressions almost identical in their disapproval.
Dumbledore…Dumbledore was leaning back in his chair, twiddling his thumbs and gazing out of the window, seemingly indifferent to the tense atmosphere of the office, because there, standing among all the shiny knick-knacks on their spindly legged tables was a ruffled looking Lucius Malfoy heading a small crowd of furious, grieving parents.
Harry supposed he should feel bad about what happened in the Forest, what with Umbridge apparently not being able to deal with Acromantula leading directly to her own death and that of all but one of the students she'd dragged along with her, but he was really struggling to care, like he was struggling to care about the Headmaster's response to all this. Why had he been so upset about Dumbledore ignoring him before? It had seemed to loom so large before Christmas, to be so devastating, but after…
"…you will have to correct an old man's memory Lucius," Dumbledore's voice was soft and gentle, "but I distinctly recall last July that you were very in favour of Delores teaching here, something about her bringing discipline, and the "right stuff" to the school. Please, correct me if I'm wrong," he gave the younger man a small smile which failed to reach his eyes.
Harry could actually hear Mr Malfoy grinding his teeth, his knuckles white and bloodless where he gripped his creepy cane. "Yes," he finally gritted out.
"Fascinating," Dumbledore gave him another chilly little smile, twiddling his thumbs the other way. "It's nice to know my memory isn't slipping.
oOo
The excitement and gossip over Umbridge's abrupt disappearance along with that of a number of students rapidly faded in the face of a much more pressing and urgent matter, the Career's Advice Meeting.
Harry looked at the display of leaflets that had seemingly appeared overnight with a growing sense of horror and anxiety. He'd never really thought much about what he wanted to do with his future, the present of just surviving whatever the Dursley's were currently putting him through being a much more important and pressing matter.
And once he arrived at Hogwarts he'd spent all his time trying to catch up with this new world and its frankly baffling culture, and of course whatever horrors were currently being thrown his way.
Being an adult, free of both Dursleys and Hogwarts, guiding his own life to the best of his abilities in the direction he wanted…it was both scary and also something he wanted so hard, so desperately, in a crashing sudden realisation.
But further than that…
What he needed was someone he could talk to…
Gathering up a good selection of the leaflets he ran for the dormitory stairs intent on his bed and the communication mirror.
"Hey kiddo," Sirius's face loomed into view. "You alright? Oh, I see…I swear we didn't have, what is it? Careers advice. Might have been a good idea though…"
"I have no idea what I want to do," Harry blurted out, dumping the leaflets on his quilt. "I just feel so…overwhelmed. I don't even know what's possible really…"
"Ah," Sirius gave him an understanding smile, "perils of being brought up in the muggle world. I suppose the important thing is to consider what you want, and don't want…so, would you ever work for the Ministry?"
Harry grimaced, memories of that awful trial he'd been put through that past summer rising in his mind lurid in their detail, the cringingly ineffective and toadying Minister Fudge, Mr Weasley and his underfunded cupboard of a department, Umbridge…
"Er…no."
"See, that eliminates Ministry stoodge and Auror from your possible careers list." Sirius gave him in encouraging smile, "so yeah, list of things you never ever want to do and list of things you would find essential, right? Think it over…"
Harry did, filling in scraps of parchment in a way that would have put Hermione to shame as he gradually whittled his ideas down. Crossing Dragon-Tamer off (Not after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He never wanted to get that close to a dragon ever again.) left him with three solid options he could really see himself doing.
Yeah, he could run with this. Look at him being all organised and prepared and stuff. Hermione would be so proud.
oOo
They were all supposed to be revising, crammed into the Charms classroom, every so often someone drifting out clutching some pamphlets or a piece of parchment filled with scrawled notes as they went to their careers advice session.
His was just before lunch, not that long now, he'd even got his own little pile of parchment and pamphlets to take with him too.
Ron sloped round the door then, making his way over to slump in the chair next to Harry.
"Went well?" he asked.
Ron's glare deepened as he kicked a desk leg. "I need to do potions if I want to be an Auror. Two more years of him."
"That's very ambitious of you Ron," Hermione looked up from her revision notes, giving Harry a glimpse of her arcane colour-coded system for a moment. "Of course you will need to get an Outstanding on your potions OWL, which means…you know…revision." She gestured at her piles of notes and books.
Ron glowered, twisting round in his seat so he could ignore her, "and you're not much better," he grumbled.
Harry blinked at him, looking down at his desk littered with stacks of notes and books. It was almost as bad as Hermione's, except he didn't have anywhere near the organisational grasp of this mess…
"I want to do well. For me," Harry tried to explain, but Ron just stared at him, his face a mask of belligerent puzzlement.
"So I've got as good a chance of a decent job as possible when I leave here," he tried. "I don't have any family to help me out when I leave Ron. I'm going to be on my own."
Hermione gave him a sad and understanding look over the red-head's shoulder.
"But you'll have us," Ron said, seemingly baffled at Harry's words. "And you're you."
Harry sighed. "We'll all be doing different things, going in different directions, like we've, erm…flown the nest, or something, and I refuse to use my fame or, or infamy, or whatever you want to call it, it can't be trusted. Er, guys…, think I'm next." He began gathering up his things, pulling out his little careers package.
"You are turning into Hermione," Ron said when he spied it, but Harry was already slipping round the classroom door.
oOo
"Mr Potter, please come in."
Harry sidled round the door into Professor McGonagall's office unable to shake off the idea that he's in trouble in some way.
McGonagall watched his entrance with an expression he couldn't decipher, exasperation? Annoyance? Concern? He wasn't sure, wasn't even sure he cared.
"Take a seat Mr Potter," she peered at him over her glasses, "I see you're prepared." One eyebrow raised in mild surprise.
Harry slipped onto the hard wooden chair in front of her desk, his collection of parchment notes and pamphlets suddenly seeming utterly inadequate.
"So…have you any thoughts on what you'd like to do with your future?" McGonagall asked.
"Err…yeah…er," he did his best un-stick his tongue, his mind going blank as all his carefully crafted ideas seemingly washed away, never to be seen again.
"I, err…yeah," he rifled through his notes desperately looking for inspiration, "erm, yeah…I've been thinking…" he tried not to glance up and notice the increasing impatience on the Professor's face. "Collecting rare and dangerous to get potions ingredients from hard to find creatures…and erm…plants that grow in out of the way places…" he dared a glance at McGonagall.
She had both eyebrows raised in apparent surprise, blinking at him. "That is an interesting choice. Not what I was expecting…but definitely interesting," she scribbled something down. Not too disapproving he hoped.
"You mentioned multiple ideas," her eyes flitted down to his notes.
"Er…I've also thought, maybe…magical forestry?" he winced, feeling this was maybe a little off the beaten track. But the thought of having his very own forest filled his heart with joy; he would of course make sure there were plenty of ferns in the undergrowth.
McGonagall's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into her hairline…
"And err…the other thing I thought of was erm…" he scratched the back of his head nervously, "was erm…teaching, specifically DADA…maybe."
"Interesting," McGonagall gave him a considering look. "I must admit I was rather expecting you to be considering something more like the Auror core…"
Harry shuddered at the thought.
"Clearly I'm mistaken. As to your NEWTs…I can't see any problems with your career choices…you will of course need Herbology. Professor Sprout takes OWLs grade EE and above, which considering her reports I'm sure you are entirely capable of. You should also think about continuing with Care of Magical Creatures…Potions of course, particularly if you want to collect ingredients for them," she looked severely over her glasses at him.
"Professor Snape expects his NEWT students to have an O at OWL level, no exceptions, so I recommend you concentrate your efforts there…"
But of course Snape was going to be that demanding, Harry nodded watching McGonagall's quill as it scribbled its way across parchment, resigned to his fate.
"…and Charms would also be beneficial to you too, and of course DADA…how does that sound Mr Potter? I know it's quite a work load but you've been doing so much better since Christmas with regards to your studies. I've been rather impressed with your change in attitude."
"Er…yeah," Harry nodded, "that looks pretty good." He gave her a tentative smile, "erm, thanks Professor."
oOo
"So…what've you chosen Harry?"
Harry blinked, surprised to find both Ron and Hermione watching him carefully as they made their way towards the Great Hall and lunch; "erm…" he floundered unsure what to say.
"I'm sure you said something cool like Auror," Ron grinned, "that would be brilliant. We'd be training together and everything."
Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated.
"Err, no," Harry winced as Ron's good cheer drained away like water out of a leaky bucket. "No, definitely not an Auror…not after all the trouble with Snuffles. I'm thinking more…I really want my own magical forest, like the one here, but with more ferns. Yeah, definitely more ferns," he missed the concerned and puzzled looks Ron and Hermione shared, lost as he was in fantasies of running among tall trees, surrounded by curling fronds as far as the eye could see.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Considering the loss of Crabbe, Goyle and a couple of other Slytherin students Harry had half expected Snape to have refused to teach him any more Occlumency, probably out of spite. But to his surprise the dour man hadn't even mentioned the whole leading-people-into-the-forest-so-they-could-be-eaten-by-giant-spiders incident at all…which was suspicious when he thought about it.
Unfortunately Snape had increased the intensity of the classes, roughly rifling through Harry's head looking for…something, with Harry shoving back every chance he got, trapping the man in the artificial construct of No. 4 Privet Drive his mind always seemed to revert to when it got the chance.
There was something so gratifying about shoving mental-apparition Snape into the cupboard under the stairs and trapping him there. The only thing was then he'd hear Uncle Vernon's heavy steps coming down the stairs, slow and heavy and full of the promise of pain…
The office was dark and cool, the flagstones cool beneath his hands as he knelt, trying to catch his breath, waiting until his vision stopped twirling.
"Why does it say "Harry's Room" on the underneath of the stairs?" Snape's voice was utterly free of any emotion and Harry risked a glance up, only wobbling slightly.
"Before I got my Hogwarts letter it was my bedroom," he said, "of a sort. Whenever they didn't want me around, or were punishing me for something, they would lock me in…which was most of the time."
Snape watched him silently, dark eyes unreadable, and Harry began to feel distinctly uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny. Trying to distract himself he stood, pleased to find he only wobbled slightly.
"You faltered," Snape glared at him accusingly. "One moment you had me capably trapped, the next your mental defences collapsed like a pack of cards. Why?"
Harry scratched his head as he considered what happened. "I think, maybe…when Uncle Vernon came down the stairs…I didn't want to meet him."
Snape's frown deepened to scary levels. "You are the master of your mind. You control it…now, again." Snape's wand was already jabbing forward and all Harry had time for was to brace himself against the mental onslaught.
Again he found himself in the familiar construct of No.4 Privet Drive with Snape's shadowy presence swirling around looking for something among the chintz and twee knick-knacks.
It took little effort to herd the phantasm into the cupboard under the stairs, and then he heard it, the heavy tread of Uncle Vernon coming down the stairs.
"I am the master of my own mind," Harry muttered to himself as he saw Uncle Vernon's large meaty hand land on the newel post, and then there he was, huge and menacing, filling the hall, blocking out the light from the front door, little piggy eyes searching for something to hurt.
Harry swallowed, mouth suddenly dry as the lumbering caricature of his uncle sniffed the air, fingers spasming as if desperate to close around a throat and just crush it.
And then the piggy eyes spotted him, the giant lumbering towards him, looming over him, cutting off all escape.
"SIT," he bellowed.
Psuedo-Vernon stumbled, squinting down at him in slow puzzlement.
Harry squared his shoulders, glaring up at the clearly stupid creature. "Sit," he demanded, pointing at the hall carpet.
There was more stupid blinking and puzzlement, and Harry was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to attempt some sort of escape, but then to his intense surprise Pseudo-Vernon squatted down, suddenly looking a lot smaller, staring up at him, searching for something.
"Good boy," he said, hoping the creature couldn't sense his nervousness.
Pseudo-Vernon's face broke into a broad slobbery smile, delight sparkling in his little watery eyes.
Wow. Maybe…Harry hoped he wasn't pushing his luck. "Roll over," he ordered, and Pseudo-Vernon rushes to obey.
"Such a good boy," Harry crooned as he gently patted the man-thing's head, the creature gazing up at him adoringly now. He could seriously get used to this version of Uncle Vernon, such an improvement.
"I did it," he gasped, the chill air of Snape's office smacking him in the face.
"You did indeed," Snape almost seemed approving, which had to mean Harry was over-tired since clearly he was hallucinating.
"Err…thanks Sir," he found himself actually meaning it too.
"I think we should leave our session there," Snape said, dark eyes watching him carefully. "Straight to your common room Potter."
"Of course Sir," Harry lied as he slipped out the office, "night Sir."
As if.
Now was the time to explore, and run and hunt, and leap, if only for an hour or so.
oOo
The corridors of the fifth floor were cool and dark and full of interesting smells, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed.
Giving a tapestry a thoughtful sniff (dust, dead moth, elderly cat wee) he considered his options. He could of course go back to the Common Room and call it a night. It was probably the sensible thing to do, but who cared about being sensible.
There was always that hidden corridor behind the fake wall he'd found a couple of weeks ago. He hadn't really had the opportunity to explore it very much…
He glanced round to find Professor Kitty glaring at him severely, the square markings around her eyes so distinctive. She also didn't seem to smell quite like a normal cat.
Curiosity peeked he sidled closer, chirping gently as he tried to look friendly and not like a student animagus out of bounds and out of hours.
Professor Kitty tolerated his attention for a few seconds before slapping one dagger filled paw on the end of his snout.
Enough, she huffed, and then suddenly Professor McGonagall was looming over him, wand drawn. "This has gone on long enough," she glared down at him. "You will change now, or I will make you."
Not a chance, Harry hissed, talons scrambling on the stone floor as he crashed past her, diving for the nearest hidden passage.
He dived down it, sending up puffs of dust, barrelling out the other end and into a passage near the Charms classroom. Slowing down he pattered past little used classrooms towards the main corridor.
The coast seemed to be clear, and so he cautiously made his way along to the back stair-case that led up to the fourth floor and hopefully away from nosy Professors.
A shadow loomed out of an alcove, and for one heart stopping moment Harry/Quill was convinced a dementor had snuck into the Castle.
Screeching, he fluffed himself up as much as he could, baring his teeth and shaking his tail menacingly until its feathers hissed.
It's just Snape, just Snape so startled and surprised that Harry/Quill nearly laughed as he barged past him, scampering up the stairs as quickly as he could.
The coast seems to be clear as he tip-toes along this new corridor, but as he turns the corner he finds Professor Kitty sitting there, silently judging him and finding him…wanting.
So, no going that way then.
Making it look as if he didn't care he flipped his tail, checked a scent marking spot and drifted back along the corridor, only for Snape to suddenly lunge out of the shadows at him.
Squawking he back-peddled, but McGonagall was suddenly there, wand poised to strike.
Seeing no option he charged Snape, not caring if he bowled the man over. Apparently brewing gave you amazing reflexes because Snape easily leapt aside and he was free, racing along the corridor and towards the next set of back stairs.
Until he wasn't.
To his horror his legs snapped together under him, his arms squashed by his side leaving him to tumble none too gently to the floor, completely and utterly helpless, caught by a first year jinx.
"Thank-you Severus," McGonagall bustled up, glaring down at Harry/Quill with a seriousness that had cold fear clenching at his gut. "Now we've caught up with our strange interloper…what in Merlin's name is it?"
Good question, Harry/Quill thought as he was floated into an empty classroom and deposited rather roughly onto the floor.
"An interesting question," Snape was staring down at him now with an intensity and curiosity he really wasn't comfortable with. "Feathered, but no beak…and teeth…very odd."
"I'm no expert on creatures," McGonagall was staring at him intently, "maybe it's some sort of experimental breed, Hagrid up to his usual tricks. Its fore-limbs are wings almost, but then look, it's got wee little hands."
"Very curious," Snape was looming closer, examining Harry/Quill's forelimbs with sharp eyes. "I suppose I could take sample. It would be interesting to see what sort of possible effects the feathers, talons or even blood might have. There's a series of standardized test potential new potions ingredients are put through, and…"
Potions ingredients..blood…
Panicking, Harry/Quill instinctively changed form, Harry landing on the floor in an ungainly heap. "I'm not potions ingredients," he squeaked, only faintly taking in the Professors' startled expressions.
Snape recovered first of course. "Mr Potter, out of bounds I see, and after I explicitly told you to return straight to your common room too."
"Err, sorry Sir," Harry said as he scrambled to his feet, glancing between the two teachers wondering how he was going to get out of this. "I was just erm…taking the err…scenic route."
"The scenic route," Snape's face was unreadable.
"How long have you been an animagus Mr Potter?" Harry jerked round at McGonagall's question.
He shifted uncomfortably. "Since Christmas," he admitted.
"I see…I don't remember there being any thunderstorms around that time, not to mention the entire business with mandrake leaves. It has a rather distinctive effect on the appetite," McGonagall's glare was absolutely terrifying now, and Harry found he couldn't really justify keeping the truth to himself any longer. Not if he wanted to get out of this room alive that was.
"It wasn't the usual method," he explained, desperate for this to be over. "It was an old Black family ritual Sirius found in an old book…"
Snape hissed, eyes snapping angrily, "that stupid, irresponsible…"
"It was Sirius's Christmas present to me," Harry rushed to explain, "so I'd have a secret, a disguise to help give me an edge against those meaning me harm. I think we can all agree I'm potentially in a lot of danger."
They didn't seem to find this as reassuring as he'd hoped though.
"I mean, the ritual did seem to be a little erm…sketchy, the way he'd set it up…but it worked. I can change back and forth just fine. I just don't know what I am…but if you've got any ideas?"
But no answers were forthcoming.
"I think I might be something very old, but that's just my current theory," he trailed off into silence as the two professors stared at him.
"So, I'll just be going then," he sidled past towards the classroom door and freedom.
"Not so fast," Snape's hand descended on his shoulder. "You can consider yourself to be in detention until the end of term," Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously at Harry's horrified expression.
"Every night. From after dinner until curfew, and I'll be escorting you back to your common room, since you clearly can't be trusted."
"We'll alternate evenings Professor Snape," McGonagall said. Snape seemed to be about to protest a moment but then gave her a curt nod.
"Bring your revision with you Mr Potter," McGonagall turned her make terrifying glare on him. "We wouldn't want you to underperform on your exams, would we."
"Incidentally," Snape's tone made Harry's stomach lurch uncomfortably. "That bout of food poisoning you had…I don't believe for a second that was just due to something you ate."
"Ah, erm…" Harry squirmed under Snape's narrow-eyed stare . Trust this to come up. "It really was something I ate, in the forest…"
The Professors were back to their horrified glaring.
"…a baby Acromantula I found. It tasted absolutely horrible, so you don't need to worry, because I'm not doing that again," he tried to reassure them.
Except Snape looked like he was going to burst a vein. "You stupid boy," he hissed, "you could have got botulism."
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Come on kiddo, better to relax a bit." Sirius looked at him with concern from the little communication mirror currently propped up on Harry's pillows. "Your exams start tomorrow…"
"Don't remind me," Harry muttered, cringing at the terrible, horrible thought. Sure, they had exams at the end of every year, but these were…the big ones, the almost life defining ones as far as he could tell.
"…if you stress yourself out the night before, you're just not going to sleep well, and then you won't perform to your best," Sirius's argument actually sounded reasonable for once.
"Fine, fine," Harry said, pushing away the last minute Charms revision he'd been attempting to stuff in his head, not that he'd really been succeeding. "So, what do you, oh wise God-Father, suggest instead?"
"How about explaining your disgraceful grassing up of me to Snivelus," Sirius's expression turned devious and more than a little sulky.
"You know I had no choice in the matter," Harry rolled his eyes, "better I told the truth than have him and McGonagall jump to erroneous conclusions, so try again oh wise and wondrous Dog-Father."
The view in the mirror shifted and lurched, the crummy ceiling of the kitchen of Grimmauld Place coming into view for a moment, a murmur of voices, and then the image came into focus again revealing a mildly exasperated Sirius with Remus lurking by his shoulder.
"Good luck Harry…and go to bed," Remus managed to get out before Sirius shooed him away.
As if he could actually sleep at the moment, Harry sighed as he pulled his copy of A Full Consideration of the Fauna of Eons Past by Mary Shipton from behind his pillows. Sleep was the last thing his body was going to do at the moment, but maybe some interesting, ancient and probably very extinct creatures might distract him a little.
"Are you looking at that bloody book again," Sirius sounded exasperated and amused.
"Yeah, well…" Harry turned it round so Sirius could see the animated engraving of ancient miniature dragons darting among tree branches, their wings beating frantically as they squirted little jets of flame at one another. "Wouldn't Hagrid love one of these."
Sirius snorted with laughter, "don't you mean a dozen of them so he could start some sort of mad breeding program with them."
Laughing Harry turned the page, looking down at the book sat in his lap. Across the bottom of the new spread flitted from branch to branch, peeking out from among the foliage, snatching insects from the air, their plumage strange and bright. He wondered what they sounded like. Did they sing like birds, or did they sound more like him.
They looked oddly familiar with their teeth filled snouts and clawed wings, but they seemed to be about the size of a pigeon if that fir-cone was an accurate size-guide. Fasinating.
As he turned the page he froze. "Oh," he exclaimed, excitement building.
"Harry?" Sirius's voice drifted up from the mirror. "This isn't going to be like that thing with that giant terror-lizard that you called a T-rex, is it?"
"No, no, look!" Harry heaved the book round so Sirius could see. "Look, they're like me!"
Sirius leaned in closer, his nose looming for a moment before his eyes swam into view, oddly magnified. "Bloody hell Harry," he muttered, "it's not all-black like you, but…"
Well no, the familiar not-quite-a-bird like creatures scuttling among the ferns of the illustration were a russet colour, their belly down a pale fawn, while their tails feathers were barred, fawn and russet.
"Wow, Harry…you're a dino…deeno…"
"A dinosaur," Harry said, feeling rather dazed at this revelation.
"You're a dinosaur Harry," Sirius laughed, "and a thumping good one I bet…wow that's got to be pretty rare." His expression turned thoughtful, "I've heard of all sorts of claims of people turning into magical creatures of various kinds, not proven of course, but…"
"Something extinct?" Harry asked. "That's got to be pretty unusual, hasn't it?"
"I would say so," Sirius grinned up at him. "I mean, I can ask Mooney. If anyone knows he will," he chuckled.
Harry nodded, gazing down at the animated drawing wistfully. It resembled his dreams so closely, the dense forest with its undergrowth of ferns…
"So…what's it called then?" Sirius asked.
Squinting down at the text Harry froze, "err…Terror-Toes," he daren't look at the mirror knowing the sheer glee that would be on Sirius's face right now.
"Shouldn't you be going to bed Harry?" Sirius's voice cut through his horrified thoughts. "Big day tomorrow" the man grinned up at him from the mirror.
Harry grimaced at the reminder, "yeah, I suppose."
"Night, and good luck tomorrow…Terror-Toes," the mirror reverted to normal before he could tell Sirius to get lost.
oOo
Harry could almost taste the fear in the air as he and his year-mates huddled together near the doors to the Great Hall waiting for the moment when they'd be herded in to their doom…to take their first exam.
There was a little chatter, shrill and nervous, Hermione was definitely muttering magical theory concepts under her breath. He hoped they brought her comfort. Ron was busily turning the colour of curdled milk, and frankly Neville didn't look much better.
"All right?" he asked, but Ron only seemed capable of nodding. An attempt at a reassuring smile to Neville only got a similar response.
The doors of the Great Hall creaked open then, and an extremely elderly wizard who looked like a good breeze would blow him over ushered then in.
The four house tables had disappeared, replaced with rows of individual desks and chairs, each one with an exam paper, parchment and a tamper-proof quill placed ready.
There was a rustle of movement as they shuffled to their designated desks and Harry found himself surrounded by students from other houses, Ron somewhere near the back, while Hermione was several rows ahead of him. The silence was stifling now, expectant, fearful, and part of him longed to change and hide under the desks.
He could almost feel the feathers forming for a moment before he managed to get a grip on himself, bringing his breathing back under control as he stuffed his agitation into the cupboard under the stairs of his mental No. 4 Privet Drive.
"Are you all right Mr Potter?"
Harry looked up startled to find one of the elderly exam invigilators standing over him, pale blue eyes full of concern.
"Err…yes Sir," he managed a shaky smile, "just a little nervous." He heaved a relieved breath as the old wizard moved away.
A sharp tap drew everyone's attention to the dais and the teachers' table where another invigilator stood, a witch wearing violently purple robes, her greying hair done up tightly in a bun.
"Your attention please," she glared at them. "Your Charms exam will begin in approximately five minutes…"
He drifted off into his own nervous thoughts, part of his mind nagging him about the lack of concealing ferns and undergrowth, and tall trees and soft leaf-litter under his feet…
"…may turn your papers…now."
The sound of multiple exams papers being flipped over at the same time jerked him back to reality and he hurried to turn his own over, heart trying to climb out of his throat as he did so…
Charms Written Exam
OWL Level
Academic year 1995/6
Answer all questions from Part I.
Answer two questions from Part II.
Answer one question from Part III.
Okay then, that seemed simple enough. He opened the booklet up relieved that he'd actually taken Hermione up on her offer of going through old exam papers together.
Part I
Question 1
State the difference between "Lumous", "Lux" and "Luminare" and their respective uses…
This wasn't too bad, a part of him relaxed minutely. He could do this. Maybe the OWL exams wouldn't be so bad after all.
Of course, by the time Thursday rolled round he'd changed his mind somewhat, his brain feeling like it had been pounded with a meat tenderizer, exhaustion creeping up on him as he dragged himself out of the DADA written exam.
Heck, at this point he'd happily prance round the Centaurs' village in just his underpants. The resulting fall-out might be more relaxing than this…this…
"Why are we doing this?" Ron groaned from where he'd propped himself against the wall as they waited for the Great Hall to be transformed for lunch.
"Dunno," Harry said as he squinted up at the stone vaulting of the ceiling. "At least," he yawned widely, "at least tomorrow we've got off…"
Hermione made a disgruntled noise that sounded like "Ancient Runes."
"…and the weekend…and then Potions on Monday."
"Don't remind me," Ron moaned, a look of despair on his face.
Lunch was a quiet tense affair, and then they were all lining up outside a classroom off one of the less frequented ground floor corridors.
Harry watched as one by one they were called in, in alphabetical order, then twenty minutes later the latest victim staggering out, their demeanour running the whole range from bone-deep exhaustion to out-right panic.
Hermione staggered out, looking pale and drained. "Don't ask me anything about it," she said as she stumbled past. "I promised I wouldn't say a thing."
Neville's nervous whispering of spells and wand movements increased.
And then it was Harry's turn…
"Good luck," Ron hissed, but Harry suddenly found himself unable to speak, only able to give his friend a nod instead.
The classroom had been cleared of all but the teacher's desk Harry found as he entered the room, the distinct lack of cover causing his instincts to scream at him to flee, to change, to hide…
"Ah, Mr Potter," the elderly examiner gave him a toothy smile. "I met your father and his friends when they did their OWL's, and now I get to over-see your practical exam. How marvellous."
Harry tried smiling but he had a feeling it looked more like he was in severe pain or something.
"Now, let us begin," the examiner flourished his wand, "with some basic defensive spells…"
And so began the most gruelling twenty minutes of Harry's life. He was certain that some of the things the examiner insisted he demonstrate were above OWL level, completely unnecessarily hard, and he was just being tortured for the examiner's sadistic sense of fun.
"Nearly done," the examiner beamed up at him, disgustingly cheerful. "Rumour has it that you're able to produce a fully corporeal patronus. For a few extra points…" he smiled hopefully.
Exhausted, Harry nodded, feeling like this was the difference between pass and fail. Gathering all the happy thoughts he could, the scent of sun-warmed pine and fern fronds, of dappled forest light and that sense of freedom he prized above all else…
"Expecto patronum," he whispered.
Quill burst forth, its shimmering silvery form scuttling around the room in flurries of movement as it examined the space carefully, wing-arms held out as it ran…
"How extraordinary," the examiner murmured, clearly delighted. "What an interesting creature. I've never seen anything like it," he peered at Quill's talons at the patronus circled them closely sniffing the ground in search of something. "Do you have any idea what it is?" he asked.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Those cauldrons won't clean themselves Potter."
Harry scowled down at the offending object, elbow deep in sudsy, dirty water, doing his best to ignore Snape.
"Now your exams are over, and revision is no longer an issue, we can revert back to normal detentions for the remaining fortnight of term…"
Snape sounded like he was enjoying himself far too much.
"…maybe we should continue them next year too."
Harry looked round, horrified. "Whatever for?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Snape gave him a supremely unimpressed look. "Oh. You know, risking your entire existence with an illicit and no doubt illegal ritual, running around the school after curfew, going into the Forbidden Forest on your own when it is out of bounds to students for very good reasons, luring half a dozen students and a teacher into said Forest resulting in their deaths…did I mention being out after curfew? Not to mention even thinking that eating an Acromantula was a good idea, you stupid boy…
I'm sure I can think of more things to add to the list given enough time," Snape's smile was disturbing.
Harry turned back to his cauldron scrubbing, taking his frustration out on cacked-on muck and un-shiftable stains. He was almost looking forward to the summer. On the one hand Dursleys, on the other hand two whole Snape free months.
oOo
Feeling as if he'd never get rid of the smell of rancid old potions Harry sloped into the Gryffindor common room. Behind him the portrait hole closed, shutting out a glaring Snape and his admonitions to "go to bed, and stay there".
"Harry?" Ron had been waiting for him, lurking on a sofa near the fireplace. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Harry sniffed his robe sleeve, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Think I'm going to have a shower though. Rancid newt spawn, I think."
It was while he was in the shower the idea hit him. Clad in his pyjamas, hair still damp, he scrabbled for the communication mirror dragging his bed curtains closed as quickly as he could.
"Sirius Black," he bounced impatiently, waiting for his Godfather to appear.
"Hey Terror-Toes," Sirius lurched into view, looking a little frazzled.
"I've had a brilliant idea," Harry grinned broadly, ignoring the stupid nickname. "When you're in your…"
"Kiddo," Sirius interrupted him, "this had better not be the sort of thing that's going to cause Snape to threaten to hex my testicles off, or something."
Harry rolled his eyes. "No…probably not. Have you ever used your magic, your wand, while you were Padfoot?"
Sirius gave him a weird look, "not really, on account of not having hands and all."
"But I do," Harry grinned.
Sirius still looked extremely sceptical.
So Harry changed form, his now clawed feet sinking into the bedclothes, his large curved talons snagging at the quilt. Shifting awkwardly he scrabbled for his wand, finally managing to clutch it in clumsy clawed hands.
Sirius was smirking at him now, but he wasn't about to let the man put him off. Jabbing awkwardly with his wand he thought Lumous as hard as he could.
Absolutely nothing happened.
He tried again, and again, and again, his frustration rising all the while, Sirius's increasing amusement not helping in the slightest. Maybe this couldn't, wouldn't work. Maybe his magic was currently all wrapped up in keeping him as Quill.
The rising tide of frustration flooded over, filling him with warmth that flooded down his arms and down into his fingers, at the tip of his wand a blazing sun of light bursting forth.
Squawking with surprise he dropped his wand, plunging the curtained space of his bed back into darkness as he tried to blink away the sun-spots that now danced in front of his eyes.
"Woah," Sirius exclaimed. "I did not know that was possible. Try it again," his excitement was palpable.
Repeating the feat proved harder than he'd expected, Harry/Quill grumbled to himself as he glared down at his uncooperative wand. What exactly had he done the first time round? He'd got really frustrated, and then there'd been this surge of something…
"Try not to over-think it," Sirius's voice cut through his increasingly frustrated thoughts. Easy for him to say, Harry/Quill chuckled unhappily at his uncooperative wand.
Taking a deep breath he attempted to relax, filling his thoughts with ferns and the sound of wind through trees, and the scent of sun-warmed pines…
He really wanted some of that sunlight to appear at the tip of his wand, a little ball of brightness reminding him of his dreams of running through ancient forests free and happy.
The warmth surged up his arm, nearly reaching his hand before receding…
Shouldn't this be like riding a bicycle? Once you knew how, you were supposed to never forget…or so he'd heard. Not that he'd ever had the chance to learn. As if the Dursley's would ever let him near a bicycle. He might use it to escape, or worse, have fun.
He'd silently produced light once, so of course he should be able to do it again.
Doing his best to relax, he tried to ease himself into that feeling again, the warmth flowing down his arm, the tingling at the tips of his claws…
A feeble little glow hovered at the tip of his wand for a moment, an insubstantial will-o-the-wisp thing, which vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
Growling in frustration he tried again…
The globe of light hovered gently above the tip of his wand as he stared at it, cackling in triumph.
"Harry?" Ron's voice drifted through the curtains. "Are you alright? You're not having a nightmare are you?"
Hurriedly Harry shifted back. "No. I'm fine, just…reading something…funny…"
"Oh…okay," Ron's voice drifted away, and Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
"Suppose I should get some sleep," he sighed as he scooped up his wand. With a little jab he felt the flow of warmth down his arm as he concentrated on the idea of illumination. A globe of light floated into existence at the tip of his wand, and he smiled in delight.
"Huh, that's interesting," Sirius commented from the mirror. "You know, next year the professors are going to increasingly expect you to be able to do silent casting. Looks like you've got a bit of a head start…" he drifted off looking oddly thoughtful.
"Well, I'll let you get to sleep. You've given me some stuff to think about. Night kiddo."
"Night Sirius," Harry yawned.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Harry you need to make a formal complaint or something!"
"Wha?" Harry jerked out of his vague thoughts of Honeydukes, to find Ron and Hermione watching him with matching worried frowns. Honestly, they were walking down to Hogsmede for a nice relaxing day doing nothing very much and they chose now to interrogate him.
"You are currently receiving a ridiculous amount of detentions Harry," Hermione gave him her most annoying concerned look. "You won't even say what for."
Harry shrugged, "the usual reasons. It's Snape. What do you expect?"
Ron seemed to accept this as entirely logical, but not Hermione. She was just like a terrier after a rat in her determination to get to the bottom of things.
"It's Hogsmede today," he cut her off before she could really get going, "I don't want to be thinking about Snape and why he does the things he does when I can be thinking about Honeydukes and butterbeer."
"But Harry…" Hermione protested...
"Yeah mate," Ron swallowed, looking uncharacteristically serious. "Look, it doesn't matter why Snape's got it in for you, honestly…"
Hermione snorted.
"…but it's the last Hogsmede of the year," Ron was almost pleading now. "Can we just spend it together? We've hardly seen anything of you really, since…since…"
"Christmas," Hermione helpfully supplied.
"Yeah," Ron nodded.
"Err…" Harry glanced around at the other students streaming past them along the well worn path that led down to the village, bright sunlight washing through the dense foliage of the trees that lined the way, rustling faintly in a light breeze that brought with it the enticing scents of the distant forest…
He pulled himself away, before his instincts could kick in, and he sprouted feathers and ran through the passing crowd and into the trees…
Had he really not been spending time with his friends?
"Erm…okay," he smiled.
It seemed like a huge weight between them had been lifted, and Ron and Hermione both smiled in relief.
"Brilliant," Ron grinned, "Honeydukes it is," he said as he led the way, Hermione and Harry following in his wake.
Honeydukes was uncomfortable, full of students all talking over one another as they made their purchase, the atmosphere close and airless. Harry couldn't wait to escape but held on as best he could when Ron, and then Hermione began to watch him carefully, kept asking him if he was "alright?"
Cause he was, apart from the increasingly strong urge to shift and scurry under something, somewhere safe from where he could attack anything that got too close…questing hands…passing ankles…
He blinked in the bright sunlight, heaving a deep breath he hadn't realised he'd needed.
"Harry, you got a little strange in there," Hermione was looking up at him, frowning with concern.
"I was?" Harry blinked, his desire to flee increasing again as Hermione's frown deepened. She was about to say something but then to Harry's intense relief Ron appeared carrying a bulging bag of sweets.
"Alright?" he asked, looking between them with concern. "Here," he shoved a couple of chocolate frogs into Harry's hands, "got you these. Didn't think you'd manage the queue in there."
"Thanks Ron," Harry smiled as they drifted away from the sweetshop, joining the milling students that currently filled the village. "I owe you one."
"Don't worry about it," Ron gave him a grin over his shoulder as they meandered towards Flourish & Blotts. "Today we're going to have fun…Hermione why are we going in here?"
Harry followed his arguing friends into the bookshop. He'd sort of missed this, the constant bickering, Ron's awful sense of humour, Hermione's well meaning bossiness…
Ron dragged them into Zonko's afterwards in retaliation. Harry lasted just over two minutes before he had to go outside. The place was even worse than Honeydukes, crammed with screaming, over-excited, sugar-fuelled bodies all heaving and shoving past one another as they grabbed at the stock, each other…
Harry shuddered, mental feathers rustling. It was an experience he would happily give a miss, instead enjoying the bright sun, the light breeze. He pulled a chocolate frog from a pocket, casually catching as it tried to leap from its packaging. Instinct lead him to deliver a killing bite to the back of its neck, the chocolate creature's weakening struggles as its magic faded deeply satisfying.
"Agrippa…" he read the card as he chewed the frog's head off. Wasn't that one of the ones Ron had been looking out for for years?
Speak of the Devil.
Ron stepped out of Zonko's furtively slipping a small package into his pocket, Hermione on his heels, the two of them somehow still bickering.
"Hey Ron," he held up the chocolate frog card, smile wide as Ron turned to look at him, eyes filling with anticipation.
There was a flash of white blonde hair in his periphery vision, then suddenly Malfoy was standing almost nose to nose with him. The Slytherin looked awful, dark bags under his eyes, face pinched as if he hadn't been eating properly, even his hair lacked its usual obsessive neatness, and there was the faint wiff of body odour.
"You're going to pay for what you did," Malfoy snarled, sounding almost threatening.
Harry backed away, but Malfoy followed, crowding into his personal space, reaching into a pocket for something.
His back slammed into a stone wall, and he tried to slip sideways, but Malfoy slapped something onto his arm. He tried clawing it off but it just got tighter.
"The Pure shall rise!" Malfoy screamed, his eyes gleaming, manic and crazed.
Harry's stomach rolled with dread as the familiar hook sensation of a portkey grew behind his navel and he was abruptly yanked, spinning and tumbling somewhere else entirely.
He came to a sudden halt, falling face-first onto expensive carpet.
"I thought he wore glasses," a deep voice grumbled.
Instincts screaming Harry tried to peel himself up off the floor despite his throbbing nose and watering eyes, but something thumped into his back, his vision clouding over as he fell into unconsciousness.
