Prowl of the Marauders, Chapter 4

The rest of the time before Harry's Hogwarts letter arrived was mostly devoted to preparing the boy for what he would face when he had to reenter the wizarding world, as well as trying to achieve his animagus form. The latter, however, was truly astonishing in its progress. After the traditional ritual of keeping a mandrake leaf in one's mouth all month, (and Merlin, that leaf was so sour when he was finally allowed to spit it out) Harry was to sit and meditate, and then would commence the difficult work of self(or in this case, assisted) transfiguration into whatever form that he perceived during his meditation session. Once he could transfigure his whole body wandlessly, he would have to take a potion to cement it. It all sounded very daunting to the boy, but if Uncle Peter and two of his friends had done it without adult help, it should be easier for Harry, with Uncle Peter by his side.

The first meditation session he had, he couldn't keep still long enough to connect to his core, which, according to Uncle Peter, was what he would have to do before his form would show itself. He was kind of upset at that, but Uncle Peter told him that there was no hurry on this step; he could meditate every day if he had to, and eventually it would come.

The seventh time he tried it, he got a sort of blobby dark shape, but nothing more concrete. Uncle Peter, however, was quite proud of him (or at least he said so) because not very many witches and wizards Harry's age even had the patience for the mandrake thing, never mind this. Harry wasn't so happy with his own success, but figured that he would figure it out in time.

"What if I have no animagus form?" he'd asked nervously one morning, after yet another vision of an amorphous black mass. "What if I never see anything but blobs?"

"You will. Almost every witch or wizard has a form, and if they did not have any at all, they would simply not ever see anything when they try to meditate. The fact that you saw anything at all means that you have a form; it's just a question of how much work you're willing to put in and how long it will take naturally for your form to manifest."

"Man-e-fest?"

"Appear," Uncle Peter defined, smiling at him. "C'mon, Prongslet, you're going to be fine. Your dad became an animagus in two years, which is unheard of, and he was a lot older and didn't have any help."

That did not reassure Harry. "You mean it could take years? I want to know what I'm going to be now!"

"Well, you'll probably know in a few weeks, if you keep the meditation up. It's just that the transformation will take longer to achieve. But let's not think about that right now, it's time for breakfast."

Harry nodded just the slightest bit sulkily.

As it turned out, Harry had partially figured out what his form was the next evening. "It has fur," he said, relating it to Uncle Peter. "It has fur and big paws, and it has whiskers, but otherwise it's just all blurry."

Uncle Peter high-fived him. "It has to be some sort of cat or dog then," he said thoughtfully. "Huh. What else is black and furry and has big paws? Maybe a niffler...?"

"I don't know. I'm bigger than a cat or niffler, so maybe some sort of big dog?"

Uncle Peter stiffened, and Harry knew that he was thinking of Padfoot, so he changed the subject with a hurried: "So what happens when I figure out what I'm going to be?"

"You'll have to go through a period of slow transfigurations. I have to do most of it, since it requires a wand, but it will be your core and your will power that actually drives the transformation, so if you need me to stop at any point, I will. When we've gone through all the gradual transfigurations, you'll fully be whatever form you are. Then you will have to put all your focus on turning back. Once you can go back and forth without any problems, you will be able to do it on your own."

Harry nodded, grinning.

"But for now, you just have to focus on figuring out what you're going to be. And for right now, you're going to be having some dinner."

Harry sighed, but knew better than to argue with Uncle Peter, and so they went out and got takeout, the Dursleys having returned from their trip the night before. Neither Harry and his uncle nor the Dursleys wanted to eat in the same general vicinity.

Over the next few days, Harry meditated every morning and evening, trying hard to figure out his animagus form. And at last, one particularly stifling afternoon when there was nothing better to do, Harry sat down on his heels to practice his meditation. Slowly, the world blurred and became indistinct, but Harry didn't move, only sat on his now-burning heels, staring at a checkmark of marker on the wall from where Dudley had scrawled all over it years ago, keeping himself centered. And then, amidst the blurry haze that he had let himself sink into, he became aware that he was no longer on his heels. Instead, he was sitting in the center of his room (what had once been Dudley's playroom, and might be again as soon as Uncle Peter could legally take him away from this place) on his haunches, a long, velvety black something- was that a tail? He had a tail!- twitching in the corner of his eye. In his vision, there was a mirror-like substance on the floor, like water or liquid silver, he could see his face, whiskered and cat-like, with great, luminous green eyes and a silvery mark almost like his scar on the feline forehead. And that was when he was broken out of his trance by the sound of a door slamming, and then Dudley's loud and extremely annoying whining filled the whole house, even reverberating in the hot air ducts and coming out of the vents as though through speakers.

The illusion was over, but it had been enough for him to see what he was going to become. His form was going to be that of a panther.

As it turned out, it took Harry only three months to attain his animagus form, much to Uncle Peter's unfeigned astonishment. The transfigurations were tedious and even rather painful (Peter had to transfigure each one of his body parts, starting with the hands and feet, and since Harry was not doing the transfiguration himself, apparently the risk of not being able to change back without help was apparently much greater), but once Harry was fully a panther for the first time, he didn't find it at all difficult to turn back, and (after another full transfiguration and a week-long potions regimen) he found that later back and forth attempts did not cause any problems at all.

Not to mention that it was so much fun being transformed. Even though he was only a cub (Uncle Peter told him that he wouldn't be able to turn into a grown-up panther until he, himself was grown up; apparently it was like that with everyone, and even his dad had been mercilessly teased by the other Marauders when his form took shape the first time with a few dull fawn-spots left and antlers that were still covered with juvenile velvet) he could still have fun running around under a disillusionment spell that his uncle always made sure to cast on him, and his senses in his animal form were so much sharper! He also had quite a lot of fun invisibly terrifying his horrible old aunt Marge's horrible old bulldog which had always used to snap and him and try to bite him when Uncle Peter (usually in his 'Admiral' form) couldn't get to him fast enough. Even the neighbors, (who had been told that Harry was an evil delinquent, which had been born out by his ripped clothes, hand-me-down old leather jacket from Uncle Vernon's brother, as his evil uncle wouldn't have been caught dead wearing leather, so he'd said 'why not make the freak wear it?', although now that he was wearing decent clothes most of the time, the rumors had died down a little) had often used to call the RSPCA or animal control on the creature for violence.

Nor was Ripper the only one who had hurt him that he now tormented in animagus form. One time that Uncle Peter had got him a box of discount books, he had read a copy of one of the Calvin and Hobbes books, and decided that, although he was a panther and not a tiger, the prospect of jumpscaring the Dursleys in his animagus form was too good to waste. So far he had: hidden in the closet and jumped out when Dudley went to put something up, hidden in the bushes just outside the door, lurked behind the sofa, and hid in the master bedroom, and he'd only stopped when Dudley had managed to catch him in the eye with his air rifle, incidentally making Uncle Peter go ballistic and giving Harry one nearly blind eye, which, despite having been cured by a potion made for such instances (bought of the black market from a slightly more reputable Healer who would not ask questions) was still milky and clouded and, although Harry could see out of it, it was much, much more sensitive than his other.

And then came the day that Harry's Hogwarts letter arrived.