I actually combined two of the original chapters for this one. I'd planned on doing one and a half, but the second half didn't really fit with the next chapter. So lucky you guys get an extra long chapter, the original one was only 4 pages long.

Thanks as always to the wonderful betaing of Xikum. I suppose I should thank J. K. Rowling for making Harry Potter and friends, because they are most certainly not mine.

Don't forget to comment! It's nice when you do ^_^.

Mythic Alliance

The days fell into a routine. Draco joined his Potions teacher immediately after dinner to work on his own potions studies, while Harry didn't join them until an hour later. Two days a week, they would all work on Potions, two days they would work on Defense and wandless magic. The two students quickly found out that the meditation they were learning for their animagus training was the biggest help they had. Learning to use their minds, to empty them out and order them was essential for wandless magic, and was a great help for everything else.

Fridays quickly became their favorite time though, it was their talking day. In truth, it was more like a debate. Snape did not accept "because I think so," or "because it is," as an answer. He wanted reasons, and so Draco and Harry would often find themselves searching through the library for reasons that would convince each other to their way of thinking. They'd gotten into the habit of deciding on a topic the week before, giving them enough time to find the information needed to defend their point-of-view. It was a surprisingly fun and informative way to learn.

One of their first conversations had led to a difference in Potions class. A difference that Severus was very happy about. It had been a discussion on the Hogwarts' Houses.

"There was no more doubt of where I was going to end up then there was where you were," Draco smirked.

"Really?" Harry asked, with one raised eyebrow. "I didn't know you had to argue with the Hat to get it to put you in Slytherin. Because I definitely had to argue with it."

"Where did it wish to put you? Hufflepuff?" Snape asked with a sneer.

"Why, no, my dear professor. I almost ended up in *your* House," Harry's smirk was textbook as he took in the disbelieving expressions in front of him. "That's right," he answered their unspoken question, "the Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin. 'You could be great, it's all in your head, and Slytherin could aid you on the way to greatness.' Something like that."

"So why didn't you?" Draco asked once he got his voice back.

"Because you were there," Harry admitted baldly. "You reminded me of Dudley and I didn't want anything to do with you or your House."

"Dudley?" Draco squawked. "Didn't you say he was an obese whale? What does that have to do with me? I, after all, am the perfect figure of a man!"

Harry chuckled. "You didn't look like him. You acted like him. You acted like a spoiled brat, and the second time we met you even had two bully boys following your every order. I just knew you were going to try to have them hold me down while you beat me up."

"Not until you turned me down," Draco answered snidely.

"It just goes to show that the Sorting Hat has gone insane from old age," Snape suggested.

"You just have to look around at our year to figure that out," Draco told him seriously.

Harry nodded his agreement. "Hermione should be in Ravenclaw," he said, not telling anyone what they didn't already know. "Not to say that I'm not glad she's in Gryffindor, but I never have understood why she is. If she wasn't one of my best friends, she wouldn't get into any trouble. Though admittedly, she's very passionate about minority rights, she's mostly passionate about knowledge. She doesn't relate very well to the other Gryffindor girls, and I honestly think she would have had more friends if she had been put in Ravenclaw."

"The one I don't get is Longbottom," Draco scoffed. "You can't tell me he's got any bravery in him."

Harry shook his head and looked seriously at the blonde boy. "Of all the people currently in Gryffindor, Neville is the one that I believe most deserves to be there. He's the bravest person I know."

"Where did you ever come up with such an idea, Mr. Potter?"

"He's afraid of his own shadow!"

Harry shook his head. "Actually, he's not. He's afraid of other people's shadows. Neville is afraid of people. I think it has something to do with what happened to his parents. I'm not really sure just why it is, but I know it's true. And while he's more afraid of adults than those of us his own age, he's still not comfortable around those of us not in the same dorm with him."

"So how can you say he's brave?"

"Where's the courage in doing something that's easy?" Harry asked seriously. "Neville is afraid practically every second of every day. Yet, you didn't know, either of you. I don't know that anyone besides me does. And I only know because I talked to him one time after he'd had a really bad day. Regardless of what he's feeling, he continues on trying, pushing himself to meet new people, forcing himself to stay in company when all he wants is to find someplace to be alone. He fights his fear every day. And that takes more courage than you or I will ever know." He turned to glare at Snape. "You don't help you know. It's bad enough that you're an adult, not to mention a male, which is harder for him to deal with, but you tend to sneak up behind him which really, really bothers him. He'd be a lot better at potions if he didn't have to worry about you."

"I will not change my teaching style for one student," Snape argued.

"So don't," Harry responded. "But if you want him to actually have a chance to learn, at least put him in a back corner. And for goodness sake, don't pair him with Crabbe!"

"You have no need to worry on that score. I suppose you believe that I should pair him with Ms. Granger?"

Harry shook his head immediately. "She's too intense for him. If you really have to pair him with someone..." he thought for a moment. "There's a Slytherin girl, I don't even know her name, but she usually sits by Bulstrode. Fairly pretty, brown hair..." he waited for an identification. It wasn't long in coming.

"Thyme," Draco answered at the same time as Severus responded "Scarborough."

"How is she in potions?" Harry asked.

"Fairly competent," Severus admitted, high praise from him.

The next Potions class Snape chose partners and places once more. He decided to follow Harry's suggestion and see if it helped. Surprisingly enough, it did. After getting through an entire class without a single explosion, as well as getting a potion that was not correct, but certainly closer than Longbottom had ever managed before, he made the pairing permanent. Since then, Neville hadn't blown up a single cauldron; a miracle by anyone's standards. Hermione even swore she saw the two of them studying together in the library.

Yes, over all, everything was going well. There was just one problem. The people that thought he was spending too much time with Severus Snape.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Harry still had the ability to get on Snape's nerves faster than almost anyone else. And that the professor still felt the need for someone to scrub the classroom with a toothbrush on occasion, especially when he had been getting on his nerves all day. Harry was no longer scared of the Potions professor, and that lead to some very interesting arguments between them. Severus might actually have believed it unfair to take House points during these times, but there was no way he was going to allow himself to be disrespected in his own classroom. And so, Harry was dutifully scrubbing down a desk with Draco making laughingly sarcastic commentaries, as Albus Dumbledore walked into the room.

"Ah, Professor Snape, Mister Malfoy, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes.

"Headmaster," was said with varying degrees of deference.

"May I speak to you in your office, Professor?" Dumbledore ordered politely.

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus stood up from behind his desk and ushered the older wizard towards his office. "Continue as you were," he told the students.

"Is there a problem Albus?" Severus asked once they were alone.

"Certain of Mr. Potter's friends have become worried that he's spending so much time in detention here. Surely, whatever he did has been more than paid for. It is also causing talk because he's the only one you've given detention to with yourself. All others you've been handing over to Argus."

"Mr. Potter is quite enough to deal with, especially on top of Draco's extra studies. I feel his detentions need my *personal* touch."

"Perhaps so, Severus, but enough is enough," Albus said sternly. "I admit, yelling at you is something that he should be punished for, but five weeks of detention is a bit too much."

"Fine," Snape sighed. "I will cancel his detention. Will that make you happy?"

"Thank you," Albus said brightly. "By the way, has he spoken to you about anything? He's been keeping to himself ever since he returned from summer vacation."

"In what universe would Potter speak to *me* if he has a problem?" Snape sneered.

Albus smiled sadly. "You should take the time to get to know him, you might be surprised."

"I believe I know as much about your Golden Boy as I care to," Snape said dismissively.

"Now, now Severus, this grudge you're holding against him is getting quite tiresome."

"It is, however, my grudge to hold, and as long as Mr. Potter feels the need to get himself into problems I have to rescue him from, and continue to act like his father did, I will continue to treat him as such. So unless you have a problem with my teaching style..."

"There's no need to take it so personally, I meant nothing against your teaching of course."

"Good." Severus swept out of the room. "Mr. Potter, you are free to go, and I don't expect to see you back here for at least a week."

"Yes sir," Harry replied, grabbing up his school bag and practically dashing out of the room.

"Do you truly believe he will be back in trouble in a week?"

"Knowing Mr. Potter, I have little doubt."

Draco waited until the Headmaster had left before he turned and grinned at his Head of House. "Harry said that he absolutely would not be in the Astronomy Tower after curfew tonight, in case any greasy old gits were prowling around."

"Unfortunately, if I was to give him another detention tonight, the Headmaster would overturn it immediately. We'll give it a week. In the meantime, you have read the latest chapter in the book, have you not?"

"'Finding Your Form'?" Draco asked. "Yes, I've just been waiting for the right time to do it."

"Go ahead and try this weekend. I will be doing the same, as will Mr. Potter. Use the extra time to research your animal if it works, or figure out what went wrong if it doesn't. We will endeavor to work some more on it next Thursday or Friday."

Harry headed back to his dorm, wondering who had talked to Dumbledore about him. He thought Ron and Hermione knew at least a little about what was going on and had decided to stay out of it. Then again, they could have gotten tired of waiting for him to actually talk to them about it.

"Harry!" a voice called from behind him. Harry seriously wished he could just ignore that voice, but he knew it wasn't going to happen.

"Hello, Headmaster," Harry said as he turned around to face the man.

"It's good to see you again, Harry. I'm sorry I haven't had time to have a chat yet this year."

"That's quite alright, Headmaster, I know you're a busy man," Harry smiled sincerely, or at least it looked that way.

"How is everything going?"

"As well as could be expected. I got into a fight with Snape the very first day of Potions, pretty much says how my year's going to go, doesn't it?" he answered with a self-deprecating smile.

"Now, Harry, Professor Snape is a very good teacher, and he deserves your respect," Dumbledore said chidingly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "He'd get more of it if he wasn't so bloody prejudiced," he muttered. He caught sight of the disapproving look in the Headmaster's eyes and ducked his head. "Sorry."

"Has your scar been bothering you?"

Harry shook his head. "No more than usual. I haven't had any visions. It just aches occasionally if he's feeling particularly angry."

"That's good. Don't hesitate to tell me immediately if it gets any worse or you do have a vision."

"Of course, Headmaster."

"Good, good," Dumbledore patted him on his shoulder and nodded towards the painting they had come to a stop in front of. "I believe this is your stop," he said with a smile.

"So it is."

Dumbledore started walking away when Harry called out. "Oh, Headmaster?"

"Yes Harry?"

"Have you heard anything from Snuffles lately? I haven't gotten a note from him for a while."

"He's safe. He's doing a job for me and will probably be out of touch for a while."

"But he's okay, right?"

"I promise, he's just fine."

"Thank you, Headmaster. I'll talk to you later," Harry waved before speaking the password and heading inside the Gryffindor common room.

"Harry!" several people called out upon seeing him. He smiled around at them all.

"Hey guys!"

"I thought Snape wasn't going to be letting you out of detention any time soon?" Hermione ventured.

"He wasn't planning on it, but someone told Dumbledore that I'd been there for so long, and he came down and said time was up," Harry explained.

"I'm glad someone stood up for you that way," Ginny put in with a shy smile.

"I wish people would mind their own business," Harry answered truthfully. "I can handle myself."

"But if your friends want to help, you should let them," Ginny said with a hint of a pout. Harry was suddenly fairly sure who had talked to Dumbledore.

"But only if I ask for help. And I don't need help to deal with Snape. This wasn't the first detention I ever got, I'm very sure it's not going to be the last. If I can't even deal with him, how am I supposed to be able to deal with Voldemort?"

He noticed the flinch most of the room gave at that name and rolled his eyes. "You guys really need to get over that," he muttered.

"Not all of us can be as blaise as you are about it," Ron said.

Harry and Hermione looked at him in confusion. "Do you mean blase'?" Hermione asked.

"Whatever," Ron said airily.

Ginny wandered away, obviously unhappy that her good deed was not appreciated.

Hermione looked seriously at her friend. "I think we deserve some answers, don't you?" she asked. "If Dumbledore didn't authorize the extra lessons with Snape, then why are you taking them, especially without the Headmaster knowing?"

"'Mione, have you been in the same DADA class as I am?" Harry asked.

"There's nothing wrong with Professor Biddle," Hermione answered reprovingly.

"Except he's teaching First Year curriculum," Harry disagreed. "I thought you'd be the one complaining, especially considering O.W.L.s are this year. Most of the stuff you need you can get out of books, but I need the practical stuff they're not going to teach. And Dumbledore's got this weird, 'don't put any more stress on Harry by extra classes' thing going on. Honestly, I just started out in detention, while Snape gave Malfoy extra Potions lessons, but as much as I dislike him, if he's going to teach me, I'm going to learn. It's been five years, and I'm ready to get this over with."

"You're not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you?" Hermione said worriedly.

"What's in it for him?" Ron wondered with paranoia in full force.

"He gets to hex me in the name of training, and I'm not going to complain to anyone about it?" Harry suggested. That had happened too, those shield spells had been a pain to learn, but they were certainly useful. "And no, I'm not planning anything. But you can be sure that *he* is. And this time, I'm going to be ready for him." His voice gentled and he had a faraway look in his eye. "No one else is going to die because I'm not ready."

"Cedric's death wasn't your fault," Hermione reminded him softly.

"No, it wasn't," Harry agreed. "But just because I didn't kill him doesn't mean I don't hold some of the blame for his death. I should have done *something*! Instead, I just stood there, shocked, until after Voldemort had ordered him killed. It will never happen again. I promise you that. I will never just stand by as someone dies again. If I have to learn with Salazar Slytherin himself, it will never happen again." He stood up and stomped off to his bed, leaving shocked friends behind him.

That night, when Harry showed up at the Astronomy Tower, he found a note, detailing the plan for the next week. He nodded, even though there was no one to see and headed back to bed.

The next day he suffered through History of Magic, paid attention to Transfiguration, and rolled his eyes in disbelief as the DADA teacher explained the basics of vampires to a bored class that had heard the same thing in First Year, Second Year and actually learned it in Third. He missed Remus Lupin as a teacher. At least they had a chance of learning things then. Even the fake Moody was a better teacher. Still, he wasn't as bad as Lockhart.

Harry focused his gaze upon a feather at the other side of the room, and used the wandless magic he was still learning to use to pick it up and move it around the edges of the room. He made sure to keep it close enough to the floor that no one noticed it's movements. He managed to keep it in the air for almost fifteen minutes, including while he was asked a question by the teacher. He was proud of that fact, since it was the best he'd done since he started practicing this way. It was the only thing that made the class worthwhile. The important thing wasn't keeping it up as long as possible, but doing it while still keeping at least a part of his attention on the teacher and being able to handle interruptions. He and Draco both used the feather, and the House Elves had been asked to leave it alone. They'd lately taken to leaving it in unusual places, and tagging it with their own magic, something they'd just learned to do. It allowed the other to find it, no matter where it was left. Looking around for a place to leave it, he finally decided to try another new spell and used the sticking charm to stick it to the ceiling. Of course, since Draco wouldn't be back in the classroom until the next Monday, it probably would not still be up there when he entered.

Once classes were over for the day, Harry joined his friends out by the lake. It was the first time in a while that he'd been able to just sit and talk with them and the conversation was light and far ranging. Hermione ragged on Ron for not spending more time studying, considering O.W.L.s were happening at the end of the year. Ron's declaration that they were still eight months away, did not go over well. Only the fact that whenever he wasn't in detention lately, Harry's head seemed to be stuck in a book, kept him from the same lecture.

Harry quietly excused himself when he noticed the three-way conversation turning into a two-way argument. He was fairly sure that it would turn into a snogging session before too much longer, and he didn't particularly want to stay and watch that. He was happy that the two of them were together, but there was only so much of their togetherness that he could take.

He thought about going back in to the library again, or rereading the chapter on the animagus transformation that he was planning on working on this weekend, but finally decided that it was too nice a day and he'd studied enough for now. Instead, he ran and got his broom, and for the next hour did nothing but fly. It was a pleasure he rarely had. To just be in the air, with no reason except the sheer exhilaration and ecstasy of flying. There was no training being done, no snitch to catch. There was just the sky and the wind and the feeling of being free.

As he landed, he thought about what it would like to be up there without the broom. To not have to worry about staying on or directing it where he wished it to go. He wondered if his animagus form might possibly have wings. He hoped so. Well, as long as it wasn't an insect like Skeeter's was. He didn't know that he'd enjoy that too much. He shrugged off the thought. Whatever his form was, he was sure he'd like it, after all, how likely was it he'd end up as a flobberworm or something. Then he considered that thought and made a disgusted face. Knowing his luck...

He shook that thought out of his head. He'd find out the next day even if it would still be several weeks before he could become the form, at least he'd know what it was. Assuming he was as good with meditation as he hoped. He turned to look back up into the sky. That's truly where he thought best, where his mind was most clear, but he couldn't very well go vision questing up there, now could he?

He turned his eyes toward the Quidditch pitch. He needed some place where he would be out of the way, and where no one would find him. He'd need to be alone for several hours at the very least. Not the bleachers, they were too open. But the towers between... They weren't meant for habitation, but it shouldn't take much to make one sturdy enough for his purposes. He checked the time. There was still half an hour until dinner. It would be enough time to check things out.

It took him another fifteen minutes to figure out that the only real way inside was to go up from underneath. Flying through the supports and crossbars was difficult, but a lot of fun. He'd have to see about setting up some obstacle courses sometime soon. The top of the tower was empty, and the canvas it was made of flapped in the wind. However, there were enough bars just below it, that once he'd transformed his cloak to a wooden floor it held up quite nicely.

With his spot found, he headed down to dinner.

The next morning he skipped breakfast to head up to his new thinking spot. A quick cloak transformation and one way transparency spell and he settled down, looking around to survey the land around him. Satisfied no one had seen him or would be able to see him, he crossed his legs and closed his eyes.

He started paying attention to his breathing. In for a count of seven, hold for a count of seven, out for a count of seven. Over and over again until he stopped needing the numbers. With every out breath he let go of a little more of his worries and concerns, until his mind was clear and calm, focused. Focused on only one thing, finding out what his animagus form was.

There was no way to gauge how much time he sat there, but the sun was coming from the other side of the tower as he opened his eyes again, his mind's eye still filled with a combination of fur and feather, beak and swishing tail. A smile burst across his face as he slowly uncurled his very stiff body and stood up. Throwing his hands in the air, he crowed out, "I'm going to have wings!"

He then dropped right back to the ground, because the blood wasn't circulating through his legs and they refused to support him.

In the most comfortable chair of a well appointed sitting room deep within the dungeons, Severus Snape opened his black eyes and looked blankly at the wall in front of him. "I'm going to have wings? I don't even like to fly!"

In a well-hidden and defensible corner of the library, one that even Hermione Granger didn't know existed, Draco Malfoy groaned as he forced himself to his feet. "I'm going to have wings," he murmured, his grin almost as big as Harry's. He quickly forced it off his face before anyone could see, and started to look for a book on animals. Now that he knew what he looked like, it was time to figure out what he was.

Severus Snape headed towards the library. Although he recognized the form, there were enough discrepancies to make him wonder if he was correct in his supposition.

Harry hurried to the library. The faster he found out everything he could about his animagus form, the faster he could start practicing transforming.

Surprisingly, none of the three ran into each other as they got their books.