A/N: I know this is extremely late and extremely short, but you'll have to forgive me. A new semester calls, including four new literature classes that have me reading quite a lot. Gotta love the Restoration poetry! Anyhoo, be patient and I'm sure I'll get this thing wrapped up sooner or later.
Morning came as something of a surprise to Harry, who had forgotten that Hogwarts would still be in session this time of year. After he had changed into his neutral school robe, the Hogwarts crest replacing any house affiliations, and stood in front of the mirror for a good five minutes, getting accustomed to the sight and repeating to himself, "They all look like this. They will not think you're a girl. They all look like this. They will not think you're a girl," Harry had left the Auror suite only to be run over by a young girl obviously running late for class or Quidditch practice or something more important than Harry's well-being.
"Sorry!" she called over her shoulder as she flew past, not bothering to look back and down, since Harry was sprawled on the floor in a less than impressive manner. Picking himself up before others could mistake him for carpet, Harry continued down a hall that looked familiar, as if any of the uniform stone corridors were distinguishable from one another, at least to eyes unfamiliar with the many talking paintings and animates statues. Soon Harry was enveloped by a crowd of children, gliding and buzzing like a swarm of bees, sweeping him along towards an impressive set of doors. Harry already felt awkward for being the only one there taller than five feet so he refrained from stopping them to ask for directions to…wherever it was he was supposed to be. Instead, he followed the current into what could only be the Great Hall of the castle, and was relieved to see Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin and Minerva setting at the head table.
"Good morning Harry," Dumbledore greeted, gesturing towards an empty seat next to Lupin's. "I was just about to send someone to collect you, but I see you've managed to find your way on your own." The slight twinkle in the old mage's eyes hinted at multiple meanings.
"More like I was swept in with the throng," Harry admitted, helping himself to what he assumed was a goblet of orange juice, only to splutter a bit at the new taste in his mouth.
"Pumpkin juice," Lupin whispered at his side, smiling at the incredulous look on Harry's face.
"That'll take some time getting used to," Harry answered, eyeing his plate of eggs and bangers with slight suspicion.
"It's quite alright," Lupin laughed. "Chicken eggs, pork sausage. No byproducts of anything you'd see in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."
Harry tucked in to his meal, glad that Lupin had assumed he was familiar with that text. While he ate, he could see that he was earning some inquisitive stares from the students, and some from the staff. He was doing his best to ignore the glances thrown at him by some frighteningly bug-like woman a few seats down when Minerva saved him.
"How were the rooms, Mr. Potter?" she asked, the thick Scottish brogue more curt than Harry had imagined it would be.
"Fine. Beautiful even, compared to my University quarters. But I nearly had an aneurysm this morning, waking up and finding this odd looking man floating above me."
"Must have been Peeves," Lupin laughed.
"You never know. It could have been Binns." All heads turned to a completely straight-faced Severus Snape, their slack jaws and wide eyes suggesting to Harry that they were either under the impression that Snape was a mute, or he had said something rather shocking. The sudden outburst of laughter around the table indicated the latter.
"Who?" Harry asked, once the table had quieted down.
"Professor Binns teaches History of Magic, and happens to be a ghost," Dumbledore clarified. "While Peeves is our somewhat troublesome resident Poltergeist."
Harry smiled politely and resumed eating. Eventually, the teachers and students drifted out of the Great Hall, some looking more reluctant than others, until finally it was down to Dumbledore and a very apprehensive Harry, who hadn't quite thought out what an inconvenience his early arrival might be for the Headmaster.
"Why don't we adjourn to my office?" Dumbledore suggested, standing to lead the way. "Maybe there I can think of something to occupy your interests until the training team arrives."
"When exactly will that be?"
"Sometime in June, barring any emergencies," Dumbledore answered, eyebrows knitted at the idea that an emergency was not all together implausible. "Perhaps you'd like to sit in on some classes? Of course, you are free to come and go as you please. You could even return to the Muggle world, visit your family, if you'd like. I'd prefer you to stay where we can keep an eye on you, given the fact that you are being pursued by Death Eaters, but it is up to you."
By now, they had reached Dumbledore's office and Harry had decided that the old wizard was probably accustomed to getting his way. "No, I'll stay. I wouldn't bother with going to see the Dursleys in any case. They weren't exactly broken up about my decision to go to the States for school. In fact, it was pretty much understood that I was to leave the house as soon as possible."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Dumbledore frowned. "It is rather disheartening when your only family is somehow lacking. Not that I don't get along famously with my brother. When we speak once a decade, we are always completely civil." Dumbledore smiled warmly at Harry, a great contrast to all other administrative educators Harry had known. Of course, Dumbledore was unfamiliar with Harry's particular brand of havoc wreaking.
"Do you think the professors or students will mind me eavesdropping?" Harry asked, already compiling a list in his head of what subjects he'd hope to brush up on.
"I doubt the professors will mind much, especially if I ask them not to. But your history may create a bit of a stir with the pupils. It's only natural for them to be curious, but it's up to you to tell them what you please. As long as it's not during class. Will you need any text books?"
"I might not," answered Harry. "I have a few books already."
After Dumbledore gave Harry a class schedule and some directions to the various classrooms, Harry made to leave, only to be stopped by a staying hand.
"Just a moment, Harry. I wish to speak to you about the conversation you and Professor Snape had last night."
Harry was wondering when the proverbial ax would fall. Throughout breakfast, he had been aware of glances thrown at him by Snape, looks that seemed to be measuring him in all respects. He was also aware of warning glares being thrown at Snape from Remus Lupin, so Harry couldn't help but imagine the possibility of being a spy within Voldemort's organization. Or maybe he was just worried that being an illegal animagus would get him in trouble, so early off in the game. After all that had happened in the span of a week, Harry had no chance of pinpointing the source of the ever-expanding knot in his stomach.
"May I see it?"
"Excuse me??" Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that.
"May I see your transformation? I'm most curious as to what type of animal you can become," Dumbledore smiled, imagining James Potter in his youth, turning into the stag that Remus Lupin had described.
Harry felt he had no choice but to agree, so he closed his mind to all of the nagging thoughts like Should I be worried about feeling so good in these robes? And soon felt that familiar sensation of walking through a soap bubble, or floating to the surface of a swimming pool after feeling the barrier between water and air break over you. And then he was stretching his wings, flying around the circular room before alighting gently on Dumbledore's shoulder, the falcon in him drawn to the phoenix perched on the other side of the room. Then he felt himself growing tired, unaccustomed to the transformation after nearly a year of misuse. So he returned to the ground and changed back.
"Splendid!" Dumbledore cheered.
"Did you only want to see my form or was there…something else you wanted to talk about?" Harry asked, eager to get it over with.
"Are you frightened by what Professor Snape suggests for you?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes holding Harry's with their seriousness.
"I'd be worried if I wasn't, but that doesn't mean I'd refuse to do it," Harry answered, stopping short of beating his chest with his fist. Honestly, he had no idea where this bravery…or stupidity was coming from.
"It may come to that choice, Harry. For now, I'd suggest you stay unregistered. Having this ability concealed could serve in protecting you, and it does open up the possibility of surveillance, at the very least. But if I were you, I wouldn't be expecting to see any combat time for another year, and that's if the war lasts that long. We wouldn't send you and the other trainees out ill prepared. Now, I suggest you make your way down to the dungeons. Professor Snape's class begins in ten minutes, and trust me when I say that he does not tolerate tardiness."