Disclaimer- I really don't own this. JK Rowling does. My first initial is not a J, and my second is not a K so I can't own this. Oh, well.
"Forgive me my nonsense as I also forgive the nonsense of those who
think they talk sense."
— Robert Frost
CHAPTER THREE
Everyone was still buzzing about Harry Potter's unexpected sorting results long after they left the feast. It was getting old rather quickly to the people who didn't really care, people like David.
His tiredness was back in full force and he was beginning to wonder if he might be sick because it didn't feel normal to be as tired as he was. Granted, his day had been long, but it hadn't been so long that he should be dead on his feet. He hadn't really done anything strenuous at all that day.
As it was, he was half asleep during Flitwick's speech and only halfway perked up in order to pay attention to who he was going to have to 'mentor' for their first year. He'd gathered on the way up to the Tower that there were ten new Ravenclaws and, with there only being five second years, he had enough mental awareness still that he could tell that meant he would be a mentor to two of the ickle firsties.
Joy.
He vaguely heard his Head of House tell Marcus Belby that he would mentor Padma Patil and Terry Boot before he heard his own name along with the names Lilith Moon and Hermione Granger. Apparently that was the end of what Professor Flitwick had to tell the little boys and girls, other than which stairway to take up to their respective dormitories and the Professor left them to their own devices.
He saw Hermione and a small girl, unassuming girl with pale skin and dirty-blonde hair and brown eyes heading his direction and he could see the questions that they were burning to ask just sitting there waiting to pounce.
David groaned quietly; he would have to stop them before they started or he would likely fall asleep during their impromptu Q&A session.
Once they were within earshot, the unnaturally tired boy said to the girls "Alright, ladies. I know you are just aching to ask a million questions about Hogwarts, and there really is no one more qualified to answer them than me, seeing as I've lived her for over nine years, but I really feel out of sorts at the moment. I don't know that I would be able to answer your questions as fully as I should; do you two mind possibly waiting until tomorrow morning to interrogate me? I could show you the shortcut to the Great Hall and answer your question at breakfast, if you don't mind?"
It wasn't much of a question, more of a well-cloaked command, but they both nodded their agreement and went up their staircase to the first-year girls' dorm.
David stumbled a few times on the staircase, his usual grace failing him in his sleep-fogged state, but eventually made it safely to his warm bed where he fell into the land of nod immediately upon his head's first contact with his pillow.
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That night, slumber was not peaceful for the boy who had been so exhausted.
He dreamed of odd, swirling colors and flying through the air unsupported; he dreamed of a life he might have lived, if not for his mother's death, he dreamed of a life with a little brother growing up alongside him. He dreamed of rolling hills and plains covered in nothing but wildflowers, grass, and a forest in the distance. He dreamed that there was a castle being built on the top of the plains. He saw himself, tortured and twitching on the floor of a dark, damp room. He then saw himself looking down in awe at a baby boy in his arms. Next he dreamed of an unnatural darkness invading his vision; a darkness that, no matter how many lumos maxima spells he cast, would not leave his sight. He dreamed and dreamed until the morning's light called him from his slumber. The last thing he remembered dreaming was the same odd, swirling colors that had begun his night of restless sleep, except the second time they were noticeably brighter and swirling faster than ever.
When he awoke from the sunlight drifting lazily through the window next to his bed, David was confused about what had been happening in his sleep. He could vividly recall all his dreams, something that was very unusual for him.
Upon attempting to extricate his body from the sheets, David realized that he had a much worse problem than simply having vivid memory of his dreams. He was distinctly smaller than he had been when he went to sleep. And his body didn't feel right. Looking down at himself he had to stifle a scream. He was covered in fur, a mix of four colors: orange tan, white and black, and his body was that of a canine's. Carefully getting out from behind the hangings on his bed, he went to get a look at himself in the dorm's mirror, stumbling a few times at the odd feeling of walking on four legs.
He just barely kept from fainting. He was a dog; a Collie from the looks of himself, but he couldn't be sure.
He had no idea what to do, but the only way he could think to get out of this situation was to get help. The only person he knew of that had ever become any sort of animal, other than his father, was Professor McGonagall, but he didn't really think he'd be able to get the message across to her about what was going on. His father would be able to read his mind, if he couldn't figure out what was going on immediately, and if David could get down to the dungeons unnoticed though.
To the dungeons it is, then.
He listened carefully and didn't hear anything to signify that either of his roommates was anywhere near waking up. He mentally nodded to himself in satisfaction.
David took a few moments to familiarize himself with the way walking in this body felt before nosing open the dorm door. Standing on the landing outside the door, he listened for sounds of people on the stairs, marveling at the increase in his senses' abilities. He slowly, cautiously, made his way down the stairs; making sure to watch his footing, which he still wasn't sure of. As he walked through the common room, he jumped at every little noise, paranoid that he would be caught. Even though he knew he hadn't done anything to cause this, but he didn't think it was a good idea to be caught this way either.
As he followed his usual path to the Dungeons, David noted that it was quite strange looking at the world from little more than a foot and a half off the ground when you are used to standing around 5'7".
Eventually, maybe fifteen minutes later, he found himself outside the portrait that guarded his father's quarters. The portrait of Mason the Menace was asleep. David could think of no better way to get the portrait's attention, so he did something he'd been avoiding trying so far. It took a few tries to make the noise come out properly, but he got it right on the third try.
Third time's the charm, I guess. He thought as he let out a deep, loud, bark. Standing on two feet, his front paws were situated on the stone wall, David put his mouth as close to Mason's ear as possible and barked one more time.
He stepped off of the wall and back into the torchlight where the portrait would be able to see him as Mason the Menace startled awake.
When the portrait noticed the unfamiliar animal he huffed and muttered "Just wait until the Professor hears about this! Students sneaking dogs into the castle; what will the little devils think up next?" as he turned around and disappeared through the back of his painting. David the dog could only assume, and hope, that Mason had gone to his portrait inside the Potion's Master's quarters to tell him about the unwelcome visitor at the door.
Less than two minutes later, a sleepy-looking Snape arrived to open his door. Once the door was open, David burst into the room; he knew that he would never be invited in seeing as his father wasn't altogether fond of strange animals.
"What the bloody hell are you doing? Whose familiar are you, you crazy animal?" David knew he had shocked his father simply because he knew that his father would usually already have him stunned by this point.
He must still be half asleep.
Wasting no time, because he knew he would probably be stunned at any moment, once the Professor got out of his stupor, David quickly knocked a bit of parchment off of the coffee table and onto the floor. Looking around he spotted an ordinary, muggle, ballpoint pen on the table as well.
And better yet, it isn't capped!
David had never before been so glad that his father believed the muggle writing utensils to be far easier to use than wizard ones and, whenever he was just writing something for himself and no one else to see, preferred to use pens over quills.
Just as his father was regaining his wits, and ability to hex, David got ahold of the pen, somehow holding it with his teeth.
In what was probably the worst chicken-scratch handwriting (teeth-writing?, David mentally questioned) anyone had ever seen, David managed to write a small message.
"I'm David" the note said, simply.
Looking up from the message, David noticed that he was being watched curiously. He expected that he must look quite strange; after all, how often did one see a dog writing with a pen? Even in the strange world of magic, it wasn't a common sight.
He gingerly picked the note with his mouth, careful to avoid putting holes through his writing with the sharp teeth he now had, and brought it over to the stunned man who was hovering by the door.
His father took the note from him and read it with a quick glance. "You're David? As in, my son David?"
The boy-turned-dog nodded enthusiastically.
"Well, how did you end up like that?" The man asked with a raised eyebrow.
David gave the best shrug that he could, all the while wondering how his father could expect much of an answer when he couldn't speak.
"I'm supposed to believe that you have no clue how you became a dog?" Another nod. "Can you become a human again?"
David shook his head 'no' as best as he could. He imagined it was a funny sight, what with his long hair flopping around as he did.
"Of course not." His father muttered.
The Professor then went over to one of his many bookshelves and looked over the titles before pulling one of the smaller tomes off of the top shelf. He flipped through it for a moment before finding what he had apparently been looking for.
He read through the page a few times before he was satisfied and then turned to his son and raised his wand.
David had been sitting quietly on the rug by the fireplace as he watched his father, but when he saw his actions he suddenly became a bit apprehensive.
It looked like he just learned whatever spell he's planning to shoot in my direction. Do I really want a spell he hasn't perfected on someone else being shot at me? Ooh, too late to do anything now!
And it really was too late; a bright blue spell was already heading toward the dog on the rug, who was cowering with his front paws over his eyes.
He was only somewhat comforted by the fact that he felt himself turn back into a twelve year old boy. It was a disconcerting feeling, almost like melting back into his own body; it was almost as uncomfortable as waking up and suddenly finding himself a dog.
When he opened his eyes again, David found himself under the disapproving stare of Severus Snape.
"Now, do you want to explain why you were trying to turn into your animagus form when I've told you before that I would teach you when you turned fourteen?"
What? I didn't try to do anything. Granted, I have been doing the meditating to find out what my form is, but I never even did enough to find out my form! And I definitely never took the next steps to make myself actually transform!
"I didn't become a dog on purpose! I had some strange dreams and when I woke up I was a dog!" David defended.
"Well, the spell I had to use on you is the one that is used to force an animagus to return to their human form. How do you explain that?"
"I don't really know…"David mumbled, trying to think of how he had turned into a dog, which was apparently his animagus form, without knowing how. "All I know is I had a bunch of funny dreams, most of them had me at various ages doing things I know I've never done and a couple were some odd swirling colors, and when I woke up I was a dog."
David knew he had said something significant to his father by the way his head was now turned at an angle and he was observing him like he would a rare potions ingredient. The stare was calculating and thoughtful.
David waited patiently, knowing that if he interrupted his father's train of thought he might not get the answer he was looking for.
"Swirling colors, you say? Were they the first thing you saw when you went to sleep and the last thing before you woke up? And did they become brighter and more violent between the two times you saw them?" David answered all three questions with a yes, knowing that his father surely must know what had happened simply because his questions were absolutely correct every time.
"How did you feel before you fell asleep last night, was there anything unusual about how you felt?"
"Tired. It started a few minutes before the train arrived in Hogsmeade, and I was practically dead on my feet the rest of the night until I could get to my bed. I was nearly asleep during the sorting." David heard the older man mumble "Everyone sleeps during the sorting; I would if I wasn't a teacher and didn't need to set an example." But he continued on despite the interruption. "I was lucky that I have photographic memory and that I've always counted my steps, because I think without either of those I would've run into more walls than my body could handle since I was practically sleepwalking on the way back to the Tower. And it seemed like the second I fell asleep the dreams started."
"If what I think happened is what actually happened, then I am surprised that you managed to last as long as you did before falling asleep. Most people would've passed out in their pudding."
"What was it? I would like to understand why I woke up as a furry little dog last night!" David was slightly annoyed that his father hadn't clued him in yet, and was wondering if it wouldn't be faster to just go to the library and figure it out for himself.
"Don't hurry me; I was getting to it. Have you ever heard of-"
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Author's Note- Mwahahaha! Not much of a cliffhanger, but I think it's a little suspenseful; or it might be if you're really into the story.
OOH! And if you're really into the story, you might do me a favor and REVIEW! (I don't have a single review yet. *Sad, pleading, puppy dog eyes*) Please, please, please!
