** Dimension Wander **
By Tvillinger
Life One -- Part III
There was much to be said for silence. Sometimes, it was overwhelming, an army of quiet creatures entering your brain without being heard to mix your thoughts and mess with your actions; silence was crazy. But then again, there was a silence that cut off the world, wrapped you in her embraced, and sent you spiraling down a delicious chain of comfort.
This silence was neither of these two. If anything, it was the wary quiet before the breaking of an iceberg to the water's surface, wowing the ship's passengers even as it sunk the ship.
Harry blinked and the class blinked back. He blinked again, and so did they. His mind, slightly warped by the overpowering noise of nothing, snickered and a blinking game broke out, neither side planning on giving up without a fight.
*Blink*
*Blink*
*Blink*
*Blink*
*Bli-
"Mr. Potter, as entertaining as you may find this, I must ask you to return to your seat," McGonagall broke in, a faint smile threatening to pull away her threatening demeanor and enlighten the classroom to her softer side.
Harry finished his blink and hurried to his seat, glorying in his victory while the rest of the fifth years wondered what to make of the small boy. As if sensing their stares, he went back to staring, almost pulling the class into another blinking contest when McGonagall slammed a book onto her desk, the smile disappearing into annoyance. "Mister Potter!"
"Sorry, professor!" Harry eeped, an innocently abashed smile on his face. He'd learned through practice on his two guardians that the look (commonly known as "puppy-eyes") was the most effective way to get out of trouble. And it worked on anyone, if you are cute enough. Harry had learned that he was cute enough, indeed.
McGonagall tried to keep her glower up but it crumbled against Harry's face and she turned her back, shuffling papers. "Right, then. I'll be testing you to see how much you remember from last year and to see where your strengths--and weaknesses--lie. Harry, I honestly don't know how to deal with this situation so you'll be taking the test as well."
Harry nodded eagerly, hoping to get on her good side especially since the stories Remus and Sirius told him of their adventures bagged her as a great ally. The professor walked to the front of her desk, frowning her disapproval of the class and started the instructions:
"On each desk, you will find a simple key. I want you to transform each key into an animal that flies, no larger than your hand. I'll continue from there."
The first animal that came to mind was a dragon, but Harry seriously doubted that it would be any easy thing to transfigure a key into a dragon, and a small dragon at that. 'Unless it was bronze...'
Harry sat up with surprise as the steps came to his mind. As he thought it over, he smiled at how easy it would be and picked up his wand. 'Transfiguration is when you change something into something else, but that doesn't mean it only takes one step. Just focus and keep thinking about what you want the key to become.' Harry closed his eyes and thought hard about what steps he could take to turn the key into a small dragon. 'It needs to be longer, so I'll change it into a piece of string.' Concentrating, Harry's lips pressed together and when he opened his eyes, a long, silky strand of gold laid on the table.
'Perfect! Now, for the legs.'
The class went by surprisingly fast as Harry's key/string sprouted legs and tiny wings, each opposite end gaining distinct features as either the tail or head. As a special effect, Harry added miniature horns and made the tiny scales glitter. In the end, his dragon burst to life with a low snarl, biting at Harry's fingers. Delighted, Harry grabbed it by its neck, bringing it up to look into the glittering, multi-faceted eyes. It snapped at him, wringing its neck back and forth while its tail swished like a living thing.
"Hey! Behave!" Harry commanded just as the dragon sunk its small teeth into Harry's forefingers. He nearly dropped it.
Harry grabbed his dragon by the neck and stuffed it under his transfiguration book, feeling a small twinge of guilt when it let out a strangled roar. Looking around the room (and standing on his chair to do so), Harry wasn't too shocked to see mostly plain, nondescript finches and pigeons, an owl or two, but nothing out of the ordinary.
McGonagall nodded from her spot at the front of the room and clapped her hands together. "Good. Now, each of you take your animal and change it back to the key. Any discrepancies will count against your grade, so I advise you to do your best."
"Change it back?" Harry repeated. His dragon worked its snout out from beneath the book and was currently trying to torch the pages with its small flames, accidentally burning one of Harry's fingers. He yelped.
"Is there a problem, Harry?"
Harry blushed and shook his head. "I-I closed my book on my hand," he explained, blushing deeper at the scattered laughter.
McGonagall watched him a moment before going back to her work. Harry sighed and again picked the dragon up by its neck, smothering its fire. "But you're so small!"
The dragon snapped its jaws, disagreeing with Harry's statement, and extended its wings shakily. Its wingspan was easily twice its body length, and Harry was amazed at how the wings had folded themselves so easily. "Easy, there. You might-" but the dragon ignored his warning, taking off despite Harry's grip on its neck. It strained and bit at Harry until his finger were red and he let go with another yelp.
"Mister Pot-" McGonagall's angry rebuke was cut short when Harry's dragon flew up to her desk and immediately started a fight with one of her quills.
"I'm sorry, professor," Harry babbled, running up to grab the dragon, pulling it up against his chest, effectively squashing its wings. It gave an undignified squeak and fought but Harry wisely kept a layer of black robes between his skin and its mouth. "It's mine. It just got away and-"
"Harry, just... just go back to your seat," McGonagall replied faintly. "And turn it back to a key."
"I, uh," Harry searched for the words he wanted to say but didn't think the professor would respond quite so nicely if he just yelled "No!" and ran from the room. "It won't change back," he settled with saying. "Can I just leave him like this?"
"Him?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow. Harry stuttered but handed over the small dragon as she extended her hand. She concentrated for awhile, obviously trying to change the transfigured key back to its original form. Blinking, she looked to Harry. "What exactly did you do, Harry?"
"I, I just changed it," Harry answered lamely, aware of the class's eyes on him. "Like you said."
"I can see that," McGonagall snapped, and Harry winced. "What steps did you use?" He quickly described his transfiguration, going through all the steps. McGonagall frowned and concentrated again, taking a deep breath but still came back, unable to change the dragon back. With a defeated confusion, McGonagall stuck her hand back out. "Here, take it. It's your responsibility until we find a way to change it back."
The dragon crooned delightedly back in Harry's hands, talons scratching his fingers, and suddenly Harry realized that he didn't want it to turn back to a key, anyway. "Al-alright. Professor," he started quickly as a thought crossed his mind, "this won't lower my grade, will it?"
McGonagall fixed Harry with a long look. "Normally, I'd say yes, but since even I can't change it back and because you picked such a difficult animal... no. You'll receive full point, provided that your animal doesn't suddenly become free and wreak havoc on the school." She was frowning but Harry smiled anyway. "Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor, for doing such a good job."
"But, professor, I'm not a Gryffindor."
*
"Potions," Daniel Rolfe moaned.
"Double Potions," Kara Mace, his girlfriend, corrected with the same dread. "With Slytherins."
Nadi Faye smiled at her friends but shook her head. "Come on, it's not that bad-"
"You're just saying that because you have a crush on Dale," George Luz laughed, coming up to sling an arm across her shoulder, pulling her close despite the bright blush that broke out on her face. "And everyone knows it, so don't bother trying to hide it." Nadi batted his arm away, laughing.
Harry trudged along behind them, suddenly feeling very left out. They were all bigger than him, physically if not mentally, so he was mostly forgotten. With a sudden dread, Harry wondered if Snape was going to take points away from him just because he started school early.
The night had gone fast, Harry getting stuck in a first year's bed. Better than the crib-like thing that Sirius had waiting for him at home; more of a practical joke than anything else. Sirius was better at being funny than at being a parent, so Harry felt he was much better off being stuck like he was than being a real six-year old in Sirius' care. There was a number to count the times Sirius nearly got the two of them killed... o.k., there was, but it was really high! Swear!
The fifth years sulked into the dark and dreary potions room, already occupied by the Slytherins, and took their seats. Snape entered just as Harry was about to sit down and he froze. "Mister Potter... our new-"
'Celebrity,' Harry finished for him bitterly.
"-celebrity." Snape smiled as if extremely pleased with his wit. "If I remember correctly, you have yet to correct you sorting mistake." Harry nodded with narrowed eyes, wondering if his face looked angry or cute (it had a habit of turning out to be extremely cute when he wanted to look threatening). "Then I think you will be sitting with a house where you'll be more likely to learn. Please take a seat beside Mr. Ohno."
"What?!" Harry squeaked.
Snape's eyes narrowed and Harry suspected that Snape looked more threatening then he had a moment before. "I said, Potter, to sit next to Ohno," Snape repeated from his gritted teeth.
Harry took the initiative and quickly sat beside the tall, dark fifth year Slytherin, feeling more than a little upset when he heard no noise of complaint from the Gryffindors. Ohno smiled thinly before turning his attention to the greasy haired professor at the front of the class.
"I told those of you who weren't special enough to skip your first four years that there were ways I can teach you to bottle fame and glory. Though there are those of you who do not seem to need this potion, this year the headmaster has given me permission to teach you how to make such potions, as well as how to fight them."
"Bugger," Harry muttered darkly. "He's always picking on me, isn't he."
"That's because you're so small," Ohno chuckled softly. Surrounded on all sides by Slytherins, with his fellow (well, not exactly) Gryffindors on the other side of the room, the sound of laughter was a little shocking to Harry. "My name's Dale." Seeing Harry's expression, he chuckled again. "Well, I'm not going to bite, you know."
"Oh!"
Snape heard Harry, even though his ears had evidently been closed when Dale was talking, and he barked out, "A point from Gryffindor for interrupting my class, Potter."
"Sir, I'm not a Gryffindor," Harry shot back.
Snape looked lost for words a moment before glaring. "That's right. Too special to be in any one house. Do you want me to make that a detention?" Harry quickly shook his head. "Then shut up and pay attention."
"You should take advantage of that while you can," Dale whispered. Harry gave him a confused look. "Having no house. You can't lose anyone any points, so no one's going to get mad at you if you do something stupid. Of course, the professors might just refer to giving you detention but that's a risk you'll have to take."
Harry chuckled, drawing Snape's attention again. "Potter, what part of the lionfish do we use in potions?"
"The spine, sir."
"How do you prepare Abyssinian shrivelfig?"
"You have to peel it, sir."
"What's the difference between aconite, monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"Nothing, sir. They're all the same thing, just different names."
Snape glared and Harry met it bravely. "What potion uses armadillo bile?"
"A Wit-Sharpening Potion."
"When do you pick fluxweed?"
"During the full moon."
"Where is gillyweed found?"
"The Mediterranean Sea, sir."
"What do you use Jobberknoll feathers for?"
"Truth potions and serums, professor."
"How long do you stew lacewing flies?"
"Twenty-one days, sir."
"What is the most dangerous snake alive?"
Snape's smug tone was wipe out when Harry shivered and promptly answered, "The basilisk."
"And what is used in the potion to fight its petrifaction?"
"Mandrake, sir."
"What must be used in a polyjuice potion?"
"A lot of things, sir. Do you want me to list them for you?" At Snape's look of disbelief, Harry began listing off what he remembered: "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass, powerdered bicorn horn, shredded boomslang skin, and a piece of whoever you plan on turning into, like a strand of hair."
Snape, and the class, started at Harry with something beyond the regular disbelief. An uncomfortable feeling worked its way up his chest and Harry thought it might be because he'd given away too much. It wasn't, of course. Moments later, the dragon clawed its way from Harry's shirt, sticking its head from the top of his robes to snarl at everyone.
"What," Snape asked softly, "in the name of all that is good, is that, Potter?"
"Oh, um, it's a project from Professor McGonagall," Harry answered with a cheeky smile. "I have to turn it back to a key."
Snape extended his hand angrily, muttering a summoning spell and the small dragon yelped as it found itself in Snape's hands. Snape examined it a moment, the same look of intense concentration on his face as was on McGonagall's, and reaching the exact same results. The dragon bit at his hands, snarling and thrashing about, small horns cutting the skin as neatly as its talons. Cursing, Snape threw the thing into the air where it took flight, lazily spiraling in the air a moment before yelping as Harry's summoning spell drew it back.
"It's charmed so only I can do it," Harry stated defiantly. "Not even Professor McGonagall can change it back."
Snape glared and Harry glared back (but there was still a problem with that degree of cuteness in his face). When Snape went back to lecturing on the many dangers of popularity potions, picking on Harry as often as he could, Harry settled back in his chair, shifting uncomfortably on the books he had to sit on to get his elbows on the table. And he realized how great it was to be a kid.
*
"Harry, could I see you a moment?"
Harry was startled out of his extremely funny conversation with Dale and his Slytherin friends as he looked up to see the headmaster, waiting outside the potions' classroom door. "Um, I'll see you later," he said to Dale, who promised he would, ruffling his hair. Dumbledore smiled as the students started away, leaving behind only him and Harry.
"Come, let's take a walk..."
"Harry, I realize that, while you are mature beyond reason in your mind, your body has not yet reached a level to which it can handle the daily strains that Hogwarts puts on it," Dumbledore stated kindly as they walked alongside the lake. Beyond reach and far under water, a dark and massive body moved; the giant squid, swimming gracefully in its home. "You're body is still growing. Both Remus Lupin and Sirius Black have contacted me with a pile of concerns, more than once a day, and some of these concerns are very reasonable."
"Sirius is bothering you because he doesn't think I sleep well without my blankie," Harry deadpanned.
Dumbledore laughed, bringing a hand up to Harry's shoulders. "I admit, some of his owls are better left unread, and he has mentioned a certain 'blankie,' as you've already guessed. But he and Remus have brought to my attention the fact that you are still six years old."
Harry stopped. "Does this mean I have to do stuff, like take naps everyday?"
"It means that for certain activities, you will not be allowed to join." Harry raised an eyebrow in question. "The Care of Magical Creatures, I believe, is too much for you, especially with out newest teacher. Professor Kettleburn tends to be a bit enthusiastic, but comes away with more injured students than not. And yes, I think daily naps are not out of the question."
"I'll just take them during History," Harry promised. Dumbledore kept quiet as they walked on. "But, that's not it, is it? Professor... you can't mean to take Quidditch from me!"
"I'm afraid I must, Harry," Dumbledore replied quietly. "It simply is too much a risk-"
"But, I'm great at it! I've never once fallen off my broom. Ok, maybe once, but that's because there were dementors and not really my fault. But other than that, never! And I'll be super-careful, I promise." Harry sniffed with a tear in his eye. "Please, sir. Don't take away Quidditch."
"But who would you play for?" Dumbledore rumbled. "We still have the matter of sorting you into a house, or at least arranging for you to have a permanent sleeping area. You know that tonight, you'll be sleeping in the Ravenclaw tower. Will you simply pick a house and stay with them?"
"If that's what it takes," Harry pleaded. "Or I'll just play for all the houses. Please, headmaster. It's not fair."
Dumbledore sighed. "Alright, but on these terms: if, for any reason, you are unduly injured in a game, you must agree to withdraw." Harry nodded eagerly. "If, for any reason, one or more of the houses believe that your playing for all the houses to be unfair, you will not play for that house or against it. You must also agree to follow any restrictions I place on you, or at least try not to break those restrictions where I'll find out." Harry nodded for each of the rules, dark head bobbing up and down.
With a tired smile, the headmaster started leading them back to the school. "I feel my years on days like this," he murmured, voice sounding lost. "Do promise me that you'll take care of yourself, Harry, and that you won't let anyone push you into something you'd rather not do, that you won't let anyone else mold you into something you're not."
"Of course, sir," Harry's voice promised fervently.
Snapping out of his reverie, Dumbledore looked at his watch. "Oh dear, I believe you're missing your lunch hour." A growl came from Harry and the headmaster smiled. "And you're missing it dearly, I suppose."
"That wasn't me, sir," Harry replied, pulling the dragon from his robes. "I turned a key into this, and now it won' turn back. Professor McGonagall can't change it, and Snape already tried. But the thing is, I want it to stay like this."
"Ah," Dumbledore looked over the little gold dragon, "but magic is at its best, working when we don't know it."
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Your magic is responding to your wish that your new pet stay the way it is. Essentially, you are fighting back any transfiguration that would turn this small dragon back to its key form, and while it's not dangerous, such magic is usually draining. That is why neither of your professors guessed at the reason why your dragon won't change back; you are showing no signs of exhaustion, as most wizards would."
"Are you saying it's my fault?" Harry asked, trying to rephrase Dumbledore's words. He nodded, making Harry smile as he stroked the lizard. "Good. Because as long as I can keep him like he is, I'll be happy."
"Have you decided on a name or will you just refer to it as the dragon?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry considered that a moment then shook his head. "No, but that's just because no name really fits him, you know?"
Dumbledore smiled wisely. "Yes, I understand. It was many years before I settled on a name for Fawkes, almost ten if I remember correctly." They got to the school again. "I must be off, Harry, but remember not to judge anyone you meet too harshly."
"Whatever that means," Harry muttered to his dragon as they got to the Great Hall. Most of the seats were filled with loud, talkative students, the only empty chairs on the ends of each table. Harry looked at each table a moment before heading to the Hufflepuff table, taking a seat next to Travis Avery, a first year.
"Hi!"
Travis shifted, mumbling, "Hello," under his breath.
'Kind of shy, isn't he?' Harry thought to himself. "I can sit here, right?"
Travis stared at Harry a moment before looking down. "You're asking me?"
Harry frowned. "Of course. Is there a problem? Because I can go on and move if you want me to-" Travis shook his head and Harry calmed down. His dragon clawed its way from one of Harry's pockets, attacking the dinner with a vicious tooth. It attracted attention, and more first years moved over to where Harry was sitting.
"Hi," one girl greeted warmly, hair pulled up into two buns on the sides of her head, accenting her Asian features. "I'm Alexandria Reed."
"And I'm Rachel Way," another girl introduced herself, pushing Alexandria out of the way.
"Um..." Harry felt the stirs of claustrophobia. It was very interesting, how that particular fear worked. You didn't know you had it, at first, until you were suddenly surrounded by a crowd of gawky first years, all of whom (embarrassing, though it was to admit) were taller than you. Harry squirmed.
"Harry Potter, we know," one of the guys smiled. Names were tossed at him, too many for him to remember, and he thought that they were doing that on purpose; trying to trick him into becoming confused and overwhelmed. A sudden, irrational fear urged him to make sure that his dragon was still with him.
"Alright Harry, we better get going," Travis broke through the crowd, pulling a dazed Harry with him. The dragon screeched at the indignity of being left behind and flew to Harry's shoulder. "Big charms problem," Travis threw over his shoulder at the kids watching them leave. "Can't be late."
"Wow. Hey, thanks," Harry took a deep breath. "Never thought I'd see the day when I was the shortest kid at school. I mean, sure, I'm not exactly tall but-"
"What are you talking about?" Travis interrupted. Then he remembered who he was talking to and shut up.
"Oh, uh, nothing!" Harry looked up to Travis and frowned. "Here, let me show you. If I stand next to you, I'm only getting up to about your chest. Can you imagine what it's like, walking around, seeing at best only up to everyone's chest?"
Travis blushed and Harry blushed as well. "Wait, that didn't come out right-"
"You are Harry Potter, right?"
"Course I am. Got the scar and everything."
"Then why do you act so weird?" Travis nearly shouted in exasperation.
Harry grinned. "It's a side affect of only seeing everyone's chest." He groaned. "Again! That didn't come out right!"
"Do you ever stop talking?"
"Not really. Talking is another side affect, this time of having a mouth. And being human, cause we humans are social things. Though, it might just be the result of being denied a childhood and then forced to live with Sirius Black. He's not exactly what you call 'parent material,' if you know what I mean and swear not to tell him I said so."
Harry was grinning madly, loving the confused expression on Travis' face and delighting in the freedom babbling gave a person. No wonder Hermione often went off on tangents. It was just so easy.
Travis was shaking his head and Harry added, "I know you're thinking that I'm supposed to be a superhero because I defeated Voldemort and all. I like to think that this scar sometimes affects my thinking. Even if it's not true, it give me the best reason in the world for acting crazy."
"Acting?" Travis smiled a little at this, coming out of his shell. "No, 'being' is the word."
Harry gasped with mock outrage. "Not even a day!" he complained to the wall. "Not even an hour! Not even a minute-alright, maybe a minute but not much more than a minute, and here I am, being insulted!"
Travis looked caught between amusement and apology. Seeing Harry's wacky smile, he smiled as well. "It's a side affect at being friends with the insane. Those of us who are tend to insult people, trying to see if they're insane enough to make a joke out of it."
"I assume you weren't talking about me, because I'm definitely not insane," Harry boasted. His dragon strutted in the air, copying his movements.
Travis rolled his eyes. "You're only this tall," and his hand went up to his chest, "and you think I'm afraid of you? I can beat up my brother, and he's even bigger than you!"
"Don't be so sure!" Harry started to withdraw his wand. "I challenge you...yea, I challenge you..." He stopped, pulling out everything from his pockets, turning them inside out. "One sec'."
Travis tapped his foot impatiently, then leaped back as Harry dropped various things on the floor. Heavy books, shrunk to fit his pockets; pieces of candy and chocolate frogs half melted onto their cards; a wrinkled picture of his parents-
"Class will be starting any minute, you know," Travis commented idly. "If you're about to challenge me to a Wizards' Duel, you got about five seconds to get on with it."
"I know, I know," Harry muttered, "but I can't find my wand!"
"And it certainly isn't in your sleeve," Travis remarked, pointing to the protruding stick. Harry gasped and pulled it out, then set back to the task of replacing all his discarded items. Students, rushing by to get to class, paused to see what was going on.
Finally, Harry stood back up, aiming his wand at Travis. "Ha! You thought I couldn't do it! I challenge you to a, to a-"
"Duel."
"Yea, duel!" Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Whoever wins gets a chocolate frog."
Travis made a face. "But it's all melted."
"Twice the flavor!" Harry promised, but his voice sounded less than convincing.
Travis looked at the melted frog and grimaced. "Maybe later, when my taste sense have died down a bit."
"Chicken!"
"Am not."
"Are too.
"Am not."
"Am too."
"You've got some bad grammar, there, Harry," a voice interrupted. Dale made a show of looking at his wrist. "But I'd say that grammar isn't the only thing you're missing. If you hurry, you might make it to your next class."
"Oh no! Charms!" Harry took off running. "Bye, Dale. Bye, Travis!"
"Mr. Avery, do you need me to escort you to your class," Dale asked in a dangerously silky voice once Harry was out of hearing range.
Travis shook his head, starting off.
"Don't try anything, Avery," Dale warned suddenly. "If Harry were to suddenly get hurt, yours would be the first back I skinned."
"If you think to threaten me, Ohno," Travis replied coolly, "you should first think to where your alliances lie."
"As should you, Hufflepuff."
Travis stiffened. "That's low," he hissed. "But not as low as a Slytherin whose loyalty wavers between power and goodness."
"To class now, Mr. Avery," Dale intoned, "or it'll be ten points from Hufflepuff."
Travis sneered at the fifth year and headed away, not looking back.
