Disclaimer: Standard stuff (I don't own anything, I won't be making profit, any resemblance to previously published content is purely coincidental, JK Rowling is the coolest, etc.). If I make any legal errors regarding copyrighted material, inform me and I will correct them immediately.

Harry Potter and the Lightning Scar

While a messy-haired English boy was dreaming about a sleek-haired American girl in Room 301 of the Great White Bear Inn in Keshena, Wisconsin, two exhausted men stalked through a forest in the mountains of northern Albania, at roughly 4 AM local time. Having lost the trail of their quarry in western Europe the previous night, they had come to Albania to investigate the rumors of a cursed village—rumors which had suspiciously began shortly after Voldemort's downfall in 1981, died out around July of 1991, and resumed in June of 1992. It was a few coincidences too many, and Sirius and Remus had concluded that there must be some artifact, relic, or other remnant of dark magic in the area which Voldemort's wraith-like form was using as a home base in between possessions. If Wormtail went looking for his master, they reasoned, he would likely begin here.

Silenced and disillusioned, they approached the outskirts of town, constantly checking for traps and wards. They had both fought in the first war, and the several ambushes and fights—sometimes degenerating to brawls—into which Pettigrew had led them had awakened their long-dormant fighting skills. In fact, the fugitive and the outcast had killed (or captured, interrogated, and then killed) five of Voldemort's former (or not-so-former, as was rapidly becoming apparent) Death Eaters, along with an even dozen other assorted criminals who had had the misfortune to be doing dirty deals and deeds with Death Eaters when the duo came calling.

Suddenly, Remus froze, his eyes darting from side to side and his ears straining. His extra-sensitive nose—one of the few benefits of lycanthropy—had smelled something that had tugged at his memories from the first war.

"What is it, Moony?" Sirius whispered. He, too, remembered battles from the first war; Remus's superior senses had often alerted the Marauders to ambushes, and he had learned to take his friend's nose seriously back in their Hogwarts days.

Remus said nothing for almost a minute. Then, a slight breeze blew across the village toward the wizards, and the werewolf's eyes widened and flashed, changing momentarily from their normal light brown to amber. His nose twitched and then instantly wrinkled in what could only be disgust, as his amber eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back to bare his teeth in a feral snarl.

"Inferi!" Remus hissed, his voice thick with revulsion and hatred. Remus had once had to endure watching dozens of Inferi tear through a muggle picnic ground—he had been wounded and disarmed, and dared not to attempt to intervene, but also lacked the immediate means to escape. Since then, he had harbored an intense loathing (even more so than most wizards, which was already a significant amount) of the reanimated, cursed corpses. Of course Voldemort would have an entire village full of Inferi.

As they silently and invisibly crept into the village, both men raised their wands, knowing that once they began casting, they would be unable to hold the concentration necessary to maintain their disillusionment charms. If they were discovered, they would have to make their first few salvos of spells count. Soon, they were in the village's central square, and suddenly, both felt what seemed to be cold water running down their spines. In an instant, they knew that, distracted as they were by the threat of the Inferi, they had failed to dispel one of the protections laid over the village, and their disillusionment charms had been disabled. Simultaneously, both men roared out the incantations for their preferred flame-based curses (Sirius went with a relatively simple incendio to mimic the effect of a flamethrower, while Remus fired off a confringo blasting curse), aiming at the hordes of Inferi lurking in the alleys leading off the square. They each cast their same spells several more times, but they knew that they were so heavily outnumbered that they would be forced to flee.

"Back to the treeline!," Sirius shouted. "We can whittle them down in the woods, or burn the forest down if we have to!"

Not waiting for Remus to either agree or argue, Sirius turned and sprinted the way they had come, torching several of the shoddy wooden buildings (they were, after all, filled with scores of rage-zombies) along the way. Remus was hot on his tail; having switched to incendio as well, he took Sirius's "scorched Earth" tactic more literally, alternately transfiguring patches of dirt into pitch and setting them ablaze, to slow the Inferi down.

The pair spent the next few hours making hit-and-run attacks at the horde of Inferi, slowly reducing their numbers from hundreds to dozens; Sirius's suggested strategy had proven quite effective, though absolutely exhausting. As the sun rose, the remaining Inferi began retreating to the village—as they hated and feared light and warmth, they instinctively tried to get back to their dark, rotting homes. Remus and Sirius took the opportunity to chase them back, finally destroying the last of the Inferi before even reaching the smoldering remains of the village.

"Ok," Remus panted, "we've got to get some rest. How about we each do a few two-hour shifts, here on the outskirts? I can take the first watch—I'm still feeling pretty strong, since the full moon isn't for another few weeks."

"Good plan," commented Sirius, already beginning to cast a series of protective charms in a wide circle. After a few minutes of setting wards and charms, a large black dog curled up next to his only remaining friend, and went to sleep on the charred, blasted earth.

A few hours after dawn on July 7th, a young man with untidy hair was roused from his sleep by the warm rays of the sun upon his face. Blinking in the unexpected brightness, he grabbed his glasses and brought them to his face.

However, by this point, it had been nearly two weeks since he had downed a series of nutritional potions which had been prescribed by one of the preeminent magical medical researchers on the east coast of the United States. Healer Hopkins had, after a brief examination on July 3rd, predicted that Harry would regain most or all of his lost growth and eyesight. Now, his prediction was realized; for the first time, Harry could see better without his glasses than he could with them. His eyes still were not perfect, but if the potions continued to work, they probably would be within a few more days.

Excited, he told the good news to his pets; though neither shared his enthusiasm (Hedwig had whacked him on the head with her wing as retribution for waking her up, and Gadsden had commented that now he would look a little less ridiculous, but he still had too many limbs), Harry's mood was not dampened. Today was already looking to be a brilliant day—he would get to hang out with Annie, meet the other two prospective animagi that Morris would be instructing, and undergo the Native American animagus ritual at sundown.

After a shower, Harry looked at his clock; it was just about 10 AM. It had been roughly a full day since he had eaten, but he had stuffed himself so much then that he still was not feeling any pangs of hunger. Knowing that Annie would probably sleep even later (though he was accustomed to the lack of food during summers, she—as the product of a healthy home life—was not, and he expected her to feel weak and tired this morning), he pulled out his mirror and called Sirius and Remus.

"Hey guys, what's happening?" he asked brightly as their faces came into view. Both men looked tired and dirty, but looked happy to hear from him.

"Harry, good to see you!" Sirius said, grinning. "Not much going on here; last night we blew up a bunch of zombies, and now we're setting an ambush of our own for the rat."

"Zombies?!" Harry yelped in shock. "What the hell? How many? Where?"

Sirius barked out a laugh as Remus smiled and replied. "It was a few hundred of them, and we had to do hit-and-run attacks all night long, to kill them a few at a time. We're basically in the middle of nowhere in Albania—Voldemort must have transformed the entire village into Inferi at some point."

"We think that Voldemort's got some sort of base in the area, so we're scouting around and waiting for Wormtail. If he shows up, he's ours," Sirius concluded savagely.

"But onto lighter things," Remus cut in, shooting Sirius a significant look. "How is Wisconsin?"

"So far, it's great. Morris is treating me really well, and we're doing the animagus ritual tonight at sundown. Hopefully, I'll have some idea about my form by this time tomorrow." Harry deliberately did not mention that Morris was not the only Oshkosh who was treating him "really well"—he didn't want to jinx anything with Annie by going and blabbing all about her. That, he decided, would stay private for the time being.

"You'll do great, lad," Sirius said, a little misty-eyed (not that he'd ever admit it). "James would be so proud that you're taking after him and becoming an animagus. Moony and I were going to take bets on what you'll be—the thing is, we've both seen you on a broom, and we both think you'll be some kind of bird, like a falcon or something."

The thought had certainly crossed Harry's mind—after all, flying was one of the only activities that Harry truly loved doing (though, after the previous evening, kissing girls was certainly moving up on the list), so it would make sense for him to be a bird of some sort. Then again, his father had supposedly been great on a broom as well, and had ended up as a stag, so perhaps talents didn't have much to do with it.

"That would be cool, but I don't really know for sure how a form...happens," Harry said thoughtfully, not wanting Sirius or Remus to get too invested in something over which he had no real control. "I'll be happy as long as I don't end up as something ridiculous, like a hamster or a snail or something."

Remus suddenly tapped Sirius on the shoulder and muttered something too low for Harry to hear.

"Looks like we've got to sign off for now," Sirius said. "Moony just smelled a few Inferi that we must have missed last night, so we're going to go blow them up, too. Good luck with the ritual, Harry!"

"Wait," Harry called as Sirius started to pocket the mirror. The two faces came back into clear view. "Be careful, you two. Don't take any risks that you don't have to. I...well, just be careful."

"We will, Harry," Remus said soberly. "You take care of yourself, too."

After ending the mirror-call on such a serious note, Harry was in dire need of cheering up. Luckily for him, he soon found Annie downstairs talking to her father. As he approached, she turned and gave him a shy smile.

"Good morning, invisible man," she said, her smile widening.

"Good morning yourself, Jeep girl," Harry replied cheerfully.

"Okay, you two, remember to be back here by around four this afternoon," Morris said, putting a hand on each teen's shoulder. "We'll go over the chant you'll need to memorize, and the dance you'll need to do. Don't worry, it isn't complicated. Now, get out of here and find something to do. No books, Harry—you're too pale, you need to spend some time in the sun."

Grinning, the two teens shot out into the street, and soon decided—by mutual, unspoken agreement—to simply stroll around the town. As they cleared the outskirts, they found themselves in the same spot where they had parked the Jeep on the previous day; the tire tracks they had left in the then-soft ground were still visible.

"I like this spot," Annie declared, pulling Harry into the shade of a large oak tree. "This is our spot now."

Harry did not miss the emphasis she placed on "our," and stepped closer, still holding her hand. The next thing he knew, her lips were on his. As the two teens kissed, Harry felt something entirely unfamiliar in his chest and stomach. When they separated, Harry instantly missed the feeling, and moved to recapture it. He knew immediately after it began that this one was different, as Annie deepened the kiss, and was soon pressing his back up against the tree.

"You know," Harry said, after they came up for air an indeterminate amount of time later. "I think I'd be okay with spending a little more time in our spot."

Harry and Annie—both hastily cleaned off (as both had grass stains all over their clothing) with a few cleaning charms—returned to the inn at 4 PM, to find Morris talking to two older teens. It soon developed that they were named Andy Ford (no relation to Henry Ford, he immediately pointed out) and Carla Santos, aged 17 and 18 years old, respectively. Both were from families from the surrounding area (Andy was from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and Carla was originally from Phoenix, Arizona but had recently moved with her family to Detroit, Michigan), who had been told of Morris's proficiency in teaching the animagus transformation, and both had just checked in at the Great White Bear Inn. Morris made the introductions, and they seemed nice enough. Harry noticed Andy's eyes subtly move down and back up Carla's body (understandable, given that he was a teenaged wizard and she was a quite attractive young witch).

Morris soon began drilling the four teens on the chant that they would have to perform. At first, the words were foreign in his mouth, as they were spoken in Menominee; however, after repetition, he found himself saying them more and more easily. In fact, as he spoke the words, he could almost feel the correct rhythm for the chant—it was almost as though magic itself was helping to guide him. The same was true of the dance—simple though it was, Harry had never danced a day in his life. However, he was quick and agile, and soon found himself quite capable of both dancing and chanting for the several-minute-long ritual.

By 6 PM, all of the teens were proficient, though Andy had had some difficulty with the dance (as a result of a knee injury recently sustained playing American football, which, though healed, still twinged painfully when moved in certain ways). Nevertheless, Morris deemed it likely that all would succeed, at least in the physical portion of the ritual. He dismissed them to their rooms to change into a set of ceremonial clothing that he had laid out on each of their beds, and told them to be back downstairs by 7 PM (as it was the middle of summer, sundown was to take place at roughly 7:30 PM).

Harry's confidence soon turned to horror upon seeing the clothing laid out for him. There was a feather headdress (a bit stereotypical, he thought, but whatever, fair enough), a beaded necklace with a large blue stone in the center, and what appeared to be a beaded loincloth—basically a short, all-leather version of Princess Leia's dress. Morris had been very clear that only this clothing was to be worn—no socks, shoes, watches, rings (emergency portkey or otherwise), and—most terrifyingly—no underwear.

Shaking his head and mentally ridiculing himself for being able to fight demons but not wear some ritual clothes, he cleared away his self-consciousness, disrobed, and put on the ceremonial garb. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was only 6:05 PM—of course, he hadn't had much clothing to put on, so now he had almost an hour to kill. After briefly describing the ritual and its purpose to Hedwig (who didn't seem to understand or care) and Gadsden (who suggested that Harry become a snake, as it was clearly the best possible form), there was a knock at his door. A quick glance at the clock told him that only five more minutes had passed.

Harry opened the door, and his entire brain short-circuited. There stood Annie in what could only be her requisite ritual clothing—if Harry felt exposed, she must have felt naked, for she was only "covered" in the most technical sense, wearing little more than some tiny leather patches, beads, string, and a coy (though perhaps a bit nervous) smile.

"You trying to catch flies, invisible man?" she asked, her shy smile widening to a grin.

Harry's jaw snapped shut with an audible click, and he managed to stammer out a half-gibberish compliment before Annie stepped inside and shut him up the best way she knew how (that is, by kissing him senseless). They tumbled down onto his bed, and continued their previous discussion from under the oak tree, now with about 95% less clothing.

After about thirty minutes of wandering hands and tongues, Harry's alarm buzzed, signaling that it was 6:55. The two broke apart, much of their nervous energy spent. After spending a few seconds readjusting their clothing (such as it was), they proceeded downstairs to meet the other two teens. Andy looked even more uncomfortable than Harry had—perhaps Harry's many stays in the hospital wing had stripped him of some of his modesty—and Carla was a sight to behold. As she was older and curvier than Annie but wearing what appeared to be the same sized patch-and-string clothing, she might as well have been nude, for all it did to cover her. And Harry had thought that Annie must feel awkward!

Thankfully, they were not able to sit around with nothing to do but look at each other uncomfortably for very long; they were soon driven (in the Oshkosh family Jeep) to the large wigwam that Morris had constructed outside of town specifically for this purpose. It had a fire pit in the center, and was large enough on the inside to comfortably accommodate the four prospective animagi. Several meters away from the wigwam, a large bonfire was being built, around which they would chant and dance.

They had arrived within a few minutes of sunset. The chants and dance needed to start as the sun touched the horizon, and it would end once the sun was completely hidden from view. Morris directed the four teens to distribute themselves around the bonfire, and pulled out a drum from the back of the Jeep. He suddenly began beating a tattoo on the drum, and as the sun was about to touch the horizon, he started to count them off like an orchestra conductor.

"One, two, three, four...go!"

The drum's beat changed, and as one, the teens began to move and chant. As Harry and Andy leaped Carla and Annie would crouch; as the girls spun, the boys would slap both palms on the ground. The teens spun, jumped, ran, kicked, and contorted their bodies in just about every way it was possible to contort a body while dancing around a bonfire, chanting all the time. As the sun dipped lower and lower, the chanting grew louder and more insistent, and both the chanting and the dancing increased in tempo and intensity. What previously had been graceful became wild, and what had already been wild became savage. The tension built and built as the dance became chaotic and the chant became deafening, until—in the final instant of the sun's light peeking over the horizon—it broke, and all four teens, who had been high in the air for one final leap, crashed down onto the ground on all fours, and the fire flared higher and blazed brighter than the sun at any point during the sunset.

As soon as it had flared, the fire was out, and the teens were panting with exhaustion. Morris led them into the wigwam, where the fire (much smaller than the one outside) was already crackling. Once they were arranged around the fire, sitting with their legs crossed beneath their bodies, he tossed a small bag filled with several different herbs into the fire, and stepped outside. From here on out, the rest of the task was for the children to complete individually.

Harry's head swam, and he looked across the fire at Annie. Her eyes were shining, her hair was a dark tousled halo around her head, and her barely-there loose-fitting clothes had shifted, leaving her breasts bare and heaving from the exertion and the primal arousal that was raging through all four teens. Harry had never seen a more erotic sight in his (admittedly short) life.

The smoke, which had a curious smell and a greenish hue, began to cloud Harry's senses. Within a few moments, he couldn't even see Annie (a fact which a not-insignificant portion of his mind lamented deeply). Soon after, all four teens collapsed backward, the ingredients in the fire already acting on their minds.

Carla felt her hooves pounding as she ran across plains and deserts, and her hunger drove her to the ground.

Andy felt his clawed feet pushing through underbrush and trees, and his hunger drove him to a stream.

Annie felt her powerful haunches launch her off of rocks and branches, and her hunger drove her to a high-up perch.

Harry James Potter felt his wings catch the air, and his hunger made the sky scream.

Author's Note

This chapter had it all. Zombies! Kisses! Probably second base! The long-awaited animagus ritual! A kinda-sorta-cliffhanger!

New game: guess what each character's form is! I've already chosen them. You'll have plenty of time to guess, since I won't be able to post another chapter until 5/30, as I will be out drinking all night with my coworkers.

Note that I am purposely referring to Native American terms by their anglicized names (for example, "Menominee" is not that tribe's name for itself or its language, but it does happen to be the designation by which it is known by the US government). This is mostly for the sake of simplicity—I am not a linguist, and I don't feel like spending hours figuring out how to have display special characters.

Also, Annie isn't based on anyone in particular, and I don't intend for her to be some Mary Sue that takes over the plot. She is a supporting character at most, and when Harry returns to Hogwarts, he will most likely leave her behind, aside from occasional correspondence. Her presence in the story is for Harry to develop some basic understanding of how to deal with girls, and the confidence he gains as a result may serve him well in general.