Just to clarify, Harry should (if all goes well) be able to transform into all the animals that were listed eventually...

Chapter 18 - A Near Miss

Harry looked over at Ron carefully, not sure how to arrange his face so as to not upset Ron further. Ron had gone chalk white, his body oddly tense, and Harry saw Ron's knuckles go white as his hands gripped tighter and tighter.

"Ron?" he said cautiously. Ron seemed to snap awake for a second, and then he buried his face in his hands.

"I should've known!" he cried. "I've never been positive enough and I was just jealous of you two being able to transform, instead of being happy for you." He hit himself in the head, in a way that reminded Harry forcibly of Dobby. Harry wasn't quite sure what to say, but was spared the decision making by Ron.

"Can I borrow you're cloak Harry? I'm going for a walk." Harry nodded, and returned with Ron to their dormitory, before Ron quickly left. Harry lay back on his bed to sleep before the next day's Quidditch match, but he didn't hear Ron return before he left.

Harry awoke early the next morning to find the skies a dull grey and a harsh wind billowing around the windows of Gryffindor Tower. Harry sat up and looked around. The curtains around Seamus' and Dean's beds were shut, but Ron and Neville's beds were both empty. Harry noticed the sleeve of his invisibility cloak hanging from his suitcase. Yawning slightly, Harry stuffed the sleeve fully into the case, quickly dressed and went down to the common room.

Neville sat by the fire, and opposite him sat Ron. He had huge black bags under his eyes, which contrasted enormously with the rest of his pale white face. Harry instantly knew he had been up all night.

"You all right Ron?" he asked timidly.

"Yeah," he muttered without looking up, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"He's been up all night," said Neville with an uneasy glance at Ron, "maybe he shouldn't be put in for the match?" At this, Ron's head jerked up, and his dry eyes met Harry's.

"No," he said emphatically, "I must play. I need something to take my mind of things. Besides, we don't have a spare keeper." Harry looked from Ron's despairing expression to Neville's one of doubt. Instinct told him playing Ron like this would be a disaster, but he knew he couldn't do it. He nodded at Ron.

"Ok then," he heard himself saying, "but you must have some breakfast. I'm really sorry about last night, but I can't help with that now..." he found himself at a loss for words, but Ron was getting to his feet. They both collected their broomsticks and headed down to breakfast, and they found Hermione there waiting for them. She looked like she had been prepared to fly again at Ron, but one look at his face and her expression changed entirely.

"Oh Ron!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his shoulders. "I'm s-so sorry Ron, I never wanted to hurt you! It just... wasn't right. I'm sorry!" The last few words were half sobbed into Ron's shoulder, before Hermione ran out of the hall.

Ron watched her go with an odd expression on his face. Harry couldn't tell if it was pity or anger or even a combination of the two, but he didn't say anything about it. Harry guided Ron to his seat, and put some bacon on his plate.

"C'mon Ron," he said quietly, "you've got to eat something." Ron nodded mutely and started to eat his breakfast, although Harry felt sure that Ron wouldn't have noticed if Harry had put a plateful of vomit flavoured Every-Flavour-Beans in front of him. Harry sighed, and sat about eating his own breakfast, before leading Ron down to the changing rooms. The rest of the team were there already, and Harry warned them not to say anything with a small shake of his head behind Ron's back as they changed into their Quidditch robes.

"Ok," he started quietly when everyone was ready, trying to keep his voice easy and level, "we know we can beat Hufflepuff, just play like in training the other day, and we'll win easily. Good luck everyone." He led them down the tunnel and into the stadium.

The weather had not improved. The sky was still a thick, moody grey and the wind whistled around them tauntingly as they walked to the middle of the pitch. But before Harry had a chance to register the looming black cloud that was approaching, he was shaking hands with the Hufflepuff captain, and they were off.

Harry tore upwards on his Firebolt, the sounds of the roaring supporters in his ears and the cold air pounding against his eyes. His hands were soon stiff with cold and he found himself rubbing them together every few minutes. As his eyes peeled around the stadium for the snitch, he looked quickly down at the game below.

It had started well for Gryffindor, who had had all the pressure and were three goals to nil up, but as Harry watched, a yellow Hufflepuff chaser took control of the Quaffle. The Hufflepuff's tore up the pitch with it, but Leanne hit a bludger at the chaser with the Quaffle, knocking out of his hand. But before Harry could breathe a sigh of relief, he realised it had fallen into the hands of a second chaser, who was tearing towards Ron's goals.

"Come on Ron!" Harry found himself yelling. The chaser took aim and threw at the left-hand hoop, but easily within Ron's reaching range. However, Ron only made a feeble attempt at getting the Quaffle and it soared past him and through the hoop.

Harry, along with about a hundred other Gryffindors, groaned to himself. Turning around again, he set off in search of the snitch, but always aware of what was going on in the game below him.

It wasn't looking good. Twenty minutes later, Harry still hadn't seen sight of the snitch, and Ron was playing awfully. He was tired and was totally preoccupied with thoughts of the previous night to even notice the foray of goals going past him. Indeed, Gryffindor were still only in the game due to some great bludger work from Jack and Leanne, and also from the goals scored by the Gryffindor chasers. But, with Ron not saving a single shot, Harry knew that soon they would be out of range even if he caught the snitch.

With the scores at 200 – 120 to Hufflepuff, Harry was getting desperate. He was racing around the stadium frantically searching for the snitch, in the now pouring rain. The black cloud had settled itself over the stadium, and Harry decided to use the Impervious charm on his glasses, just as Hermione had in their third year.

Looking around in the rain, he could see the Hufflepuff seeker also looking for the snitch and then, finally, Harry saw it. It was buzzing softly behind the heads of the back row of Slytherins, (who obviously couldn't hear it), and Harry suspected it had been there a while. Crouching low on his Firebolt, Harry shot towards it. Even above the roar of the rain Harry could hear the Gryffindor supporters cheering him on, as he zoomed above the Slytherin stand. Many hands went up to try and grab him, but he was going to fast. At the last second, the snitch jumped out of his hiding place, but too late: Harry's fingers closed tightly around the struggling snitch, and he felt his chest loosen slightly.

It was over. He heard the roar of the Gryffindor supporters as he flew down to the ground, desperate to talk to Ron. But Ron had left. Harry couldn't see him anywhere as he looked around, but soon he was surrounded by cheering supporters and couldn't leave.

Ron, whom Harry had found upstairs in the dorm after the match, was very quiet for the rest of that week. He and Hermione were on speaking terms again, although neither would look each other directly in the eye while speaking. Harry was trying desperately to make them as it was before, but it hadn't worked. However, he had little time as it was.

The new term had brought with it, for Harry especially, a definite upturn in work. Snape had them working hard on the theory for advance medical potions. Professor Sprout had taken to holding her classes at the edge of the forest to show the class some of the more dangerous plants. Diggory was teaching an advanced form of the Impediment charm ("Impeditia"). Professor Flitwick was working on Apparition theory, and Professor McGonagall was finally working on human transfiguration. On top of all this work, Harry had his Occlumency lessons with Snape still going, (although Snape had grudgingly hinted that Harry was getting a lot better), and his lessons with McGonagall and Dumbledore.

With Professor McGonagall, Harry had (to his disappointment) not improved any further beyond what he had done, save for making a beak sprout out of his nose also. Hermione on the other hand was almost perfect, although she was still a bit too big for an owl, and couldn't fly. Ron had also made progress, and he was now able to cover his arms in fur and turn his feet into paws.

However, it was his lessons with Dumbledore that Harry was struggling with the most. He had been learning the theory and Dumbledore had said that Harry would have to try it out soon on an animal. With this in mind, Harry approached his next lesson with a great feeling of trepidation and anxiety, and all too soon, he found himself facing Dumbledore outside the entrance to his office.