A/N: A transformative work of African Adventure, by Willard Price. Have fun!

When Harry asked the headmaster if he could stay at the school for the summer holidays, the answer was no. But Ron wasn't his best friend for nothing and owled his favourite brother again. "Charlie's the best, you'll see." Charlie's answer was quick, and all that the boys had hoped for.

"I'll meet him at the station," Charlie wrote. "I'm due a holiday and was planning to search for dragons in Africa. Muggles saw a Black Nyanga at the Congo-Tanzania border and some Magizoologists are gathering there. No reason why he can't come with. Be sure to inform his family!"

Harry wrote a letter to Number 4, Privet Drive, not half an hour later. Ron thought it best not to say he'll be with Charlie in case someone would object.

"It's okay, isn't it?" Harry protested. "Why would anyone want to stop me?"

"Oh, I don't know? Maybe because adults are weird? Mum would never let me go off with someone she didn't know."

That was true. And he was going to a whole other continent. The Dursleys wouldn't care but maybe someone else would make them. They put their heads together and came up with some wild ideas but in the end, Harry simply wrote he'll be spending summer with a friend and that his uncle needn't pick him up at the station.

They looked up the dragon and learned it was a mythical creature, pitch black with teeth like a dog's, a huge belly, the tail of an eagle and seven horned heads. Harry borrowed All You Need to Know About Dragons from the library and spent evenings paging through the thick book, marvelling at the moving pictures and soaking up every word. By the time he read the last page, he could totally understand why Charlie loved dragons so much.

Then the thing with Professor Quirrell happened. Ron was hurt and there was all the fuss, so they both forgot about Harry's holiday until they sat down in the Express.

At the station, Harry looked around nervously. Ron had described his brother not too kindly as short with arms like a gorilla's. They found the Weasley family quick enough. Mr and Mrs Weasley with Percy already beside them stood out with their red hair, but no Charlie.

"He'll come," Ron said and dragged Harry and Hermione to meet his parents.

"Thank you for the sweater, Mrs Weasley," Harry said. He had written a letter on Christmas but he secretly worried that it wasn't enough. "It's really warm."

"Do you see your family, Harry?" Hermione wanted to know, standing on tiptoes and weaving about to see through the crowd. She waved wildly when she saw her parents, making Ron duck.

"Oh, uhm—"

They hadn't told her about the plan. Harry had worried she'd tell them it was not a good idea. He especially worried about what she would say if she knew he had lied to his aunt and uncle. He had hoped to be able to explain to her in a letter once he was there but it seemed he would have to do it now. He opened his mouth, only to be interrupted.

"There you are!" a middle-aged man called out and clapped Harry on the back. Harry didn't know the man from Adam and gaped. He was short and stout with thinning black hair and a magnificent moustache that curled up well past his round cheeks, and wore a Muggle suit that was bright orange, making him look like a mustachio'd beachball.

"Get your trunk, lad!" the man called jovially, his voice carrying easily over the noisy crowd. "We have to hurry-hurry! Rush-rush!There's quite a bit of traffic!" Then he ducked his head low and hissed to Harry and Ron, "It's me, Charlie—I'm avoiding Mum! Get your stuff, Harry, let's leg it!"

Ron laughed and helped put Hedwig's cage on Charlie's trolley while Harry did the same with his trunk, and Charlie yelled something about cars and traffic, and shouted 'Pleased to meet you's' and 'Pip Pip!' at the group, taking off before Mr and Mrs Weasley could get a word in, dragging Harry in his wake. The last Harry saw of the small group was Hermione's open mouth as she stared after them.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked when they were out of sight. Charlie wasn't relaxing his pace and he had to jog to keep up.

"We'll Floo to Diagon and Portkey from there. Are you excited?"

He was. He also hadn't understood any of that. "What's Floo? And Portkey?"

"What do they teach you in school?" Charlie asked, clutching his heart in exaggerated horror.

Charlie was clearly having fun with him and Harry grinned. He was like the twins. "I can turn a match into a needle." Harry joked back. "I think next year we learn how to turn it back."

"The horrors."

There were so many things he had yet to learn, being brought up Muggle and Harry was surprised by something new nearly every day. Floo was travelling through green fire and you had to close your mouth and tuck your elbows which Harry forgot to do, surprised by the whirl of fireplaces and people he saw inside. Charlie clapped his back when he coughed the soot out on the other side. He was only glad they had let Hedwig go to find her own way. Portkey was even worse, it stretched you out like a rubber band and snapped you back, making you wish you had skipped lunch.

But before the Portkey they had icecream at Fortescue's and before that Charlie brought Harry a wide-brimmed hat, sturdy boots, and safari clothes that he would later come to love for they had cooling charms and insect repellent spells woven into the cloth. Harry assured him he would pay him back once he figured out how to get his Gringotts key from Hagrid but Charlie said not to bother. "I wouldn't have brought you if I couldn't afford you," he said. "You're, what, eleven? I'm not expecting you to pay anything."

"I'll be twelve soon."

"So old, grandpa!" Charlie joked.

"It's too much, Charlie." He knew from Ron that he had six siblings and all of them grew up sharing clothes and books and nearly everything else. Sure, Charlie had a job, but still. "I can't accept it."

"I'll let you work it off in chores then. You can bring me tea in bed."

He had by then turned back to himself and Ron was right, he was short and looked a bit like a gorilla with his long, muscled arms. His face was one big freckle and his hair was every bit as red as the rest of his family's.

"Why didn't you want to see your mum?" Harry asked, thinking of the Weasleys.

"She'd insist we stay over at the Burrow, which would be fine any other time, but summer is only so long and we've got African dragons to see." Charlie's whole face brightened up when he talked about the dragons. "I'll have to drop you off there anyway when we're done, my holiday is only for a month. Unless by that time you want to go home to your family, of course."

"I wouldn't." Harry scowled.

"Well. We'll see."

The Portkey was a rock. Harry and Charlie held it and then Charlie tapped it with his wand, saying a password. The world stretched away, and turning dizzy, Harry closed his eyes. When Harry opened them they were standing in green knee-high grass, a dense jungle at their backs.

Harry woke with a start. He sat up on his cot and strained to listen. What was that noise? It sounded like a child crying.

There were no children in their small camp beside him. It must have been an animal. He shivered. They were in a magical part of the Kilimanjaro National Park and he had been listening the whole night to animals growling and calling each other, the rangers identifying the sounds around the campfire for him and Charlie. There had been magical animals like Erumpents and Fwoopers, and non-magical hyenas and jackals and even lions and elephants. Harry had thought of Hagrid, and how excited the giant would have been to be here, and tried to listen to everything so he could tell it all to Hagrid over rock cakes.

The cry came again. A chilling sound. He doubted they were in danger, he could see through the window that the fire outside was still burning brightly. It was supposed to keep the animals at bay. And the tent was sturdy too, no animal would be able to claw its way in easily. It was something he had never seen before. From the outside, it looked Muggle but from the inside, it looked like a regular house. It wasn't large, he and Charlie shared a bedroom and then there was a bathroom—with a tub!—and a living room with one sofa, next to a tiny kitchen, but it was still more than what should have been inside such a small tent. Charlie had borrowed it from a friend.

With all of that in mind, Harry still couldn't help himself and listened nervously over Charlie's snores. Then it came again. A shriek that was like none of the animals last night, and now people were shouting over the barking of dogs. Charlie's cot creaked.

"I'll go see what's up," he said. "It sounds like something happened in the village. Try to sleep."

A woman cried out, it was an awful, desperate sound, and reminded Harry of Professor Quirrell. He shivered again and got up also. "Can I come?"

"Bring your wand."

They dressed, changing from their pyjamas to their day clothes and their boots—a must for snakes, Harry had been told—and went out. The rangers and trackers who had their own tents were all gathered beside the fire, talking and gesticulating excitedly. A noise outside the camp made Harry's heart leap in his throat but it was just the village headman and some of his men and women.

"We've picked up its trail," he said. "Down by the river."

Charlie and Harry went to the head ranger, Deon Louw, a big blond South African, and asked what was going on.

"A leopard took one of the village children," he said. "The trackers think it might be a Nundu. We need all hands if you want to come."

"Of course," Charlie said and lit his wand. "Let's go."

The villagers were milling around at the edge of the mud huts. Harry had been in one earlier that day. He and Charlie had met a young family with a boy Harry's age and had been invited for dinner. The boy's name was Abdul and he and Harry had immediately hit it off, comparing schools.

The villagers all had magic. Like the tents, it was quite different inside their round, thatch-roofed huts. Large rooms full of colourful woven carpets and soft pillows, and furniture like you would find in any house in London. Polished marble floors. It had a kitchen that his aunt would have died for, straight out of the magazines she liked to read. Harry had laughed when Abdul had told him his mum had done the interior decorating from a magazine and would be very happy if he commented on it. So he did and for his efforts, he was given an extra helping of her apricot pudding after dinner.

Now Harry and Charlie followed the rangers. Deon was up in front with the village headman and the child's mother and father, surrounded by sniffing dogs, and Charlie silently pointed out the large animal tracks to Harry.

"Do you know how to cast a shield?" he asked softly. "That's the best you can do against a Nundu. Cast a shield and don't show your back to it."

Harry didn't, and they moved to the back of the group where Charlie showed him the wand movements and made him practise. It was pitch black beyond their little circle of light and Harry was picking up on the nervous chatter of the group. His hair tingled at the back of his neck. Fear made him put effort into learning the spell and it didn't take long for him to put up a light yellow shield in front of him. When Charlie praised him and rubbed his hair into more of a mess, saying "Good job," Harry was glad for the dark.

Harry and Charlie kept watching the trail, following behind. "Charlie," Harry said and pointed to the blood-spatter against the grass.

"They saw it," Charlie whispered, looking worried. Harry shifted closer to him. It was a relief not to be alone, not at all like at school. All he had to do was follow the adults here but he still felt worried.

"What's a Nundu like?" he asked, wishing he hadn't read up on dragons only. He could see from the paw prints it was a large—enormous—cat but he didn't know anything more.

"It's the brother of the non-magical leopard," Charlie said. "You know leopards, right?"

"Sure." He had learned about leopards in primary.

"Yeah, well a Nundu is twice its size and probably the most dangerous animal in the world. Its breath can cause diseases that kill villages. If we want to kill it we'll need around a hundred wizards working together."

"We don't have a hundred." He did a quick head count. "We're only fifteen." And that was including him. He suddenly felt quite small and didn't imagine he'd be any use.

"Don't worry. If it is a Nundu we'll disapparate; hopefully, we'll get the girl's body," Charlie said but he was interrupted by a commotion ahead. They rushed forward to where the group was shouting over a yellow glow.

It was the little girl. Somehow she was still alive and had cast a dome-like shield over herself which must have protected her. Her clothes were tattered and bloody and she lay in a curled-up little ball under the shield, crying pitifully. She was no more than two so it must have been accidental magic, Harry learned. The little girl's father clutched her to his chest and at first didn't want to let her go but the headman talked quietly to him until finally, he set her back on a blanket. Harry watched them cast healing spells, paying attention like he hadn't in his many trips to the infirmary.

Deon came to stand by Charlie. "Our noise must have scared it away," he said. "No Nundu would drop its prey still alive, it was probably a regular leopard."

"Large, though, if it's a leopard," Charlie mused. "Will we keep looking?"

"Yes. The villagers will go back to take Bupe home. They don't like tracking in the dark but if we're still at it tomorrow they'll join us again. If Harry wants he can go with them, and we'll carry on. Even if it's a non-magical leopard it went into the village to steal a child out of its bed. It will do it again." He looked fierce and Harry realised what they wanted to do. His stomach churned. They were going to kill it.

"Do you want to go back?" Charlie asked. "You don't look so well."

"I'm okay," Harry lied. He didn't know how much Ron had told his brother about the third-floor corridor. "I want to help."

"Let's get going then," Deon said and got the group moving.

Now it was only the three of them, with the other ranger, a middle-aged Nigerian called Sam Orji, and a tracker. They had kept one of the dogs, a large mixed breed with short black fur. She raced ahead, nearly invisible in the night, returning every now and then to check if they still followed. Harry was relieved to be walking again and pretended he didn't see Charlie's worried looks. He practised his shield a couple of times but then Deon told them all to shut off their lights, having heard a sound up ahead.

For a while, they tracked in the dark. There was a full moon but clouds obscured it more often than not and the going was slow, especially while trying to be quiet.

The tracker saw it first and pointed it out to the others. "Up in the trees ahead," he hissed. "Two o'clock."

Harry could just about make something yellow out if he squinted. The dog growled and the tracker shushed it.

"Not a Nundu," Deon said, sounding relieved. "Still, there's something off about it."

"It's standing like a man," Harry said. Feeling a bit like the dunderhead Professor Snape always called him and anyone that stayed still long enough in his presence, he asked, "Do they do that?"

Just then a cloud shifted and the moon shone clearly on a round face that was more man than animal, half transformed. He was searching for them but looking in the wrong direction, and Harry realised with some relief that their group was half hidden by the dense shrubs.

"An Animagus," Charlie breathed.

Deon swore. "We need to catch him. Charlie, take Harry and go behind him," he ordered. "Try for a stunner. The rest of us will…" He quickly organised the group to put up an anti-apparition ward which would take four wizards, but they would have to make do with three.

Following Charlie as silently as he could through the dense foliage, Harry promised himself that he would put in more effort to learn the spells needed in the bush. The others were so sure of themselves, even Charlie didn't hesitate to follow Deon's orders, and Harry wanted to be able to do his part.

But Charlie didn't think he was useless. "When I cast I want you to put up a shield in front of us," he said softly. "He might try something if he's fast enough."

They circled around, passing close to the river bank. Frogs were harmonising between the reeds and somewhere close by an animal grunted, to be answered by another, the sounds masking Charlie and Harry's passage. Harry could make out dark shapes, that must be hippos, and kept his eyes peeled for crocodiles that he had seen earlier that day. They looked like logs floating on the water. When the tree came back into view, Harry held his wand ready.

Just as Charlie raised his wand a black shape darted by them with a growl, leaping for the branch. The leopard-man twisted around and, his body contorting into its animal shape, he met the dog midair. Charlie cast a stunner and Harry brought up his shield a moment after but the two fighting animals were moving too fast and Charlie's spell missed wide. Blue light shot from Charlie's wand again and whizzed millimetres from the village dog who seemed to be losing the battle. It finally alerted the Animagus to their presence and he twisted away from the dog and leapt at them with a hair-raising growl. Going for the easy target, his heavy body struck Harry's despite his shield, and they went tumbling backwards through the shrubs, sticks and claws tearing at Harry's skin. They hit the water with a splash.

Harry had no time to take a breath before black water engulfed his head. The leopard-man kept after him and he felt claws strike his chest and thighs as they tumbled head over heels through the cold river. Somewhere along the line, he lost his glasses, feeling them slip from his face and fearful he would lose it also, he kept a death grip on his wand while simultaneously trying to fend the leopard-man off. He thought of crocodiles and hippos and, his lungs burning, wondered if this was it—it would be nothing more than what he deserved after Quirrell—when something splashed into the river beside them and then another and another.

A bright yellow flash of light seared through the dark water and Harry caught a glimpse of Charlie's face, his mouth open as he screamed something. He thought he saw the dog and Deon—another bright yellow flash and the water erupted around the leopard-man and himself, and then Harry was floating free.

Hands grabbed him from behind and he struggled until he realised it was the tracker, Ahmed, pulling him to the surface. He dragged Harry to the bank where he hoisted him out of the water and smacked him on the back until he could breathe again, gulping fresh air into his burning lungs.

"Shoo!" Ahmed told a hungry crocodile that slithered close to see if it could find a snack, and zapped it with a first-year stinging hex on the snout. Harry flopped back onto the muddy bank and laughed. He cackled at the ridiculousness of it and at being happy to be alive.

"You're all right," Ahmed said and flopped down next to him.

"Fuck," Deon swore when they all lay bedraggled on the bank, the Animagus having gotten away. "Bloody hell. Let's not bring the dog next time."

But he rubbed the black dog and called her a good girl anyway before sitting up to heal her wounds. There hadn't been anti-apparition charms cast over the river so the Animagus had disapparated away as soon as the others had jumped in. The dog was the only one that managed to get a few bites in. Still, she was also the cause of their failure.

"I lost my glasses," Harry said when Charlie asked if he was all right, and the men cast a few spells at the water—Accios, Charlie explained—until they had fished it out. Harry added it to the list of spells he wanted to learn.

Back at the camp, Charlie ran a bath for Harry and healed Harry's wounds while he sat in the hot water—deep claw marks over his chest, arms and thighs, that he hadn't even felt when it had happened. They stung something fierce now, but he clenched his jaw.

"What an adventure, right?" Charlie said as he cast a last Episkey on Harry's wrist where a deep gouge was still bleeding sluggishly. "I tell you, I would rather take a dragon any day of the week than a crazy Animagus."

"What will happen now?"

"We'll let the village know that it was an Animagus and get the authorities involved." Charlie shrugged. "I don't think Deon will be interested in doing more, I'm certainly not, we're here for the actual animals."

When he healed up all Harry's cuts, only the deepest having left a thin scar across his forearm, Charlie ran clean water into the bath again and left Harry to it. He returned shortly to drop Harry's pyjamas on the toilet seat and said there was tea ready when he was done.

"I thought I should be making the tea," Harry called after him.

He wanted to hurry up but found the water too nice and warm, and his movements suddenly sluggish. It took forever to soap and rinse his body and towel off dry enough to dress in his pyjamas. Charlie had set a pair of slippers out for him and a robe too, neither his, and he slipped them on, feeling embarrassed. But not embarrassed enough not to enjoy the comfort they provided as he shuffled out to the kitchen to where Ron's older brother was mending Harry's shirt and waiting for him with hot tea.