It didn't take long at all for the news to go around the castle. Overnight, many of the students began to give him a wide berth. Whispers of how he killed the troll to protect Hermione spread like wildfire, and even in Slytherin, there were some whispers of respect around him.

As Harry was about to head to breakfast the day after the attack, Pucey walked up to him. "Potter, Professor Snape wishes to speak with you."

Harry set down the book he was reading and nodded, "I'll head there now. See you at breakfast, Draco!"

Draco lightly nodded as Harry headed out the entryway and towards the Potions classroom. He had a free day today, and then the ritual tomorrow. After that was the detention with Filch on Sunday. It'd be a pretty big weekend.

Harry entered the room, carefully closing the door behind him before stepping into Snape's office. Once inside, he shut the door with a soft click and turned to face the space. Behind the desk sat Snape, his sharp gaze fixed on several rolls of a dull gray material spread out before him. Harry instantly recognized it as the Troll's skin.

"As per our agreement, Potter, I took the Troll's blood. Its organs, teeth, tusks, and skin are all here." The professor gestured to different bottles, before standing. "They will be sent to your vault, where you can decide if you wish them sold or used."

Snape turned to Harry. "I recommend you do research on Stone Troll parts. They can sell for quite a bit thanks to their unique makeup. They are the strongest type of troll, and the rarest to find parts of. For good reason, mind you. Their hide is as strong as muggle plate armor and twice as flexible; it also has spell-resisting capabilities. The tusks are a major reagent for high quality Rune knives, and the teeth and organs are often used in potions."

Snape moved back to his chair and sat down. "I would normally lecture you on how it is important to know everything about anything you wish to sell, but I-" Snape paused, a look on his face saying he couldn't believe what he was saying. "I believe that you will do research before making such a decision so I will withhold my comments. Do not betray my trust, Potter."

Harry saw a flicker of both anger and sadness in his eyes when Professor Snape said the final part. Harry nodded and took a moment to consider what to do with all these parts. "Could I get a rune knife made? You said the tusks are used for that, right? And did you already send portions to the others?"

"No, I will be sending it to their parents. Because of your unique situation, I decided to let you know first before I sent it to your relatives. I was informed by Professor Dumbledore that they may react somewhat adversely to the magical materials should they understand what they are."

"Professor Dumbledore said that? That's strange. My aunt and uncle don't have experience with magic. Well, they have a little but not enough to hate it." Harry said curiously.

"Indeed, then it seems Professor Dumbledore's fears are unfounded. So a rune knife, you said? I assumed your friend Granger will want one as well. They are expensive enough that it will be her portion of the proceeds. As Malfoy's godfather, I have already arranged a Troll-hide vest to be made for him. Should you wish, I could have one made for yourself as well."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, sir. And I assume the remainder of the hide and the organs will be given to Crabbe and Goyle?"

Snape nodded his head in response. "Indeed, Potter. Goyle's family are skilled in the art of potion making, while Crabbe's family runs an enchantment business. The organs will be the most important thing that they would wish for."

"Alright. Thank you so much for all of this, Professor. I'm happy no one was hurt, and that I can help my friends now after it died." Harry nodded.

Snape didn't respond, but a flicker of emotion slid across his face. For a moment, Harry thought Professor Snape was looking right through him.

"Now, Potter. About this flying lesson of yours."

"Oh. That." Harry said. "Draco seemed excited to be able to get onto the Quidditch Team."

Snape sneered. "Indeed, that boy is altogether too much of a Quidditch fan. Though I will begrudgingly admit I have a competition going on between myself and Minerva." Snape sat forward, placing his hands on his desk.

"What I want to talk with you about is the possibility of joining the team. Originally, I believed that you were not qualified to join, due to your immaturity and selfishness. However, our star seeker left the team this year to focus on his NEWTs and has left me little choice but to find a replacement."

"NEWTs?"

"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. They're an exam that shows how well you have learned magic at Hogwarts and will dictate what sort of position you can attempt for when you graduate." Snape explained.

"I see. And the Seeker wanted to focus on those instead of Quidditch." Harry said, understanding immediately.

"Precisely. So, if you will attend tryouts next Saturday, then you will be allowed to join them. Should you prove yourself on a broom, you will be allowed to join the team, Potter."

Harry grinned in excitement, hopping in his seat restlessly. "And Draco?"

"I have already informed him of the fact, and he assured me he would be there."

"Thank you so much, Professor Snape! I won't let you down!" It took all of Harry's self control not to jump up and dance around the room.

"Now, with that finished, you may leave, Potter. Enjoy your day off."

"Yes sir! Thank you, Professor!" Harry beamed. He rushed out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him. Snape let out a weary sigh, sinking back into his chair's as though it were the only thing holding him upright.

Hermione moved over to sit by Harry during breakfast. As she did, Harry looked up to see owls flying about, delivering the morning mail.

Unexpectedly, two owls swooped down, one of them dropping a letter for Hermione and one for Harry. Hermione quickly tore hers open before giving a shriek.

"Harry! Care to explain why I'm apparently the owner of a Stone Troll rune knife?!"

Moments later, Crabbe and Goyle received their own letters. They glanced at the parchment, then tucked them into their pockets in near-perfect synchronization. Though they stayed silent, their puzzled stares landed squarely on Harry.

"That's your portion of the Troll. Professor Snape mentioned that he would send it to you after my meeting with him, I didn't think he meant it literally." Harry grinned.

"Harry, this hide is said to be one of the rarer magical creature hides! It's worth hundreds of galleons!" Hermione said.

"So? You almost died, all of us did. Each of you deserved a portion of it." Harry said as he took a few pieces of bacon from a plate.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said, hugging him. "Thank you so much!" Harry was a bit stunned from the sudden embrace, unsure of what to do. He tensed, and finally he pushed away when he felt it wouldn't be rude, giving an awkward smile.

Harry saw Crabbe and Goyle's nods of acknowledgement before turning to his own letter. Seeing his Uncle's pristine penmanship, Harry grinned and tore the envelope open.

Harry lad,

It's good to hear from you about the school. I would have sent a letter to you earlier, but unfortunately, I was called to work for a two-week period about a major contract that Grunnings has achieved.

Things are not that good here, but I will not bore you about such things, lad. Keep working hard in school, and get your magic strong. I want to hear of you getting top marks in all your classes… every last one! There's a surprise waiting for you at home if you get those marks, lad. Make sure to work hard!

Your cousin is fine, his marks at Smeltings are not the best, but I have moved to assist the lad with that. You keep your eyes on your own work, and Dudley will be just fine.

Your aunt has been recovering from whatever happened to her. Dudley had his own issues, but he tells me in his phone calls that he has had very little besides some headaches when thinking of you. Do you think that your headaches with that Professor could be indicative of him being the one to do the casting? Something to look into.

Other than that, lad, I want to tell you that I believe you will excel in your school. Don't prove me wrong, and be the best you can be!

Love, Uncle Vernon

Harry folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket, grinning to himself. Determination flickered in his eyes—he'd double down on his studies from now on! Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice a young witch approaching. A firm but gentle hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him back to the present.

"Mister Potter," the professor said, her voice cutting through his reverie.

Harry turned and saw a rather young witch with vibrant, fire-red hair. The red was even more prominent than the Weasleys, glimmering in the candlelight of the Great Hall.

"I am Professor Bathsheda Babbling, and I teach Runes here at Hogwarts. It was brought to my attention that you defeated the Stone Troll last night with a rune?"

Harry recognized the voice of the Professor that he had secretly been learning from. "U-Um… yes, Professor." Harry said, shock plastered on his face.

"And where, precisely, did a first-year learn runes?" She stared right at Harry, almost as if she had Snape's ability to look right through him.

"I-I… uh… read it in a book." Harry stammered.

"Despite the illustrations in most beginner rune books not showing any runes more than basic lettering? I heard that you only used a single rune on the Troll."

The Great Hall was silent, suddenly enraptured by the conversation. Everyone was trying to listen to the conversation between .

"W-well, yes, Professor, but I also jumped on its back and used the Accio spell on the flagstones of the castle. It didn't do the work all by itself."

There was excited muttering at that. The Professor nodded and closed her eyes. "Very well then. I must give you my personal congratulations; such skills are rare in younger students. I do believe that you will be an excellent student come your third year. I eagerly await for you to join my class."

The professor turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Harry grinning ear to ear. He was relieved she hadn't realized he'd been sneaking into her classes, but at the same time, the recognition felt good—he couldn't help but bask in it for a moment.

Next to him, Hermione huffed a bit. "Don't you get all smug, Harry Potter. I will be just as good as you with Runes when the time comes."

Harry gave her a wicked grin in response, making the girl huff in annoyance.

Harry made his way to Professor McGonagall's classroom as the sun set outside. Heading down the halls and passing a few students who were quickly attempting to get to the Common Room before curfew began, Harry didn't have much difficulty.

Entering the Transfiguration Classroom, he found McGongall already setting up. "You're getting closer to the New Year, Mister Potter. I know it's not exactly easy to rush the process, but I would prefer not seeing you… dead." McGonagall closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to banish the thought.

"Yes, Professor. I'm trying my best… the ritual is working, I'm pretty sure."

McGonagall nodded, walking over and flicking her wand. The familiar marble basin was formed as the classroom shifted.

Sitting back in the middle, Harry heard the familiar chant and felt the moonlight upon him from the window. In no time at all, he was back in the void.

The area around him was dotted with the crimson and gray "lightposts" that he had created, guiding the lights to create a bastion that held back the light and fought back the shadows. The Void was still powerful, but as it pressed, it felt a bit weaker from Harry's hard work.

"Now I just need to keep going." Harry said to himself in the middle of the projection's area.

Harry felt the crimson and gray lights slide from him once more, pushing against the void. This would be his fourth time, and he hoped to make progress.

Time began to pass as he fought the darkness that enveloped him, pushing it back inch by inch. He made his way towards that feeling he felt, the familiar presence within the darkness.

He found his body tingling, and then beginning to burn the more he pushed. Suddenly, he saw a flicker of movement in the darkness.

"That's it!" Harry said to himself. "It has to be."

He tried to push against the darkness to reveal what was hidden within its depths, feeling like he was commanding some sort of army. The crimson and gray lights shone gently when Harry pressed his magic from himself.

He caught a glimpse of something in the shadows—a silver-white paw that vanished into the darkness before he could fully register it. A sharp scent of fresh earth and the open sky greeted Harry; the wind whipped around his face and for a fleeting moment, he remembered the exhilarating rush of freedom that came with the sensation of soaring through the sky.

It was so close. He could almost hear the animal, and Harry felt invigorated by seeing its paw. His magic strained as he started the assault once more, pressing into the void and laying down more of the lights to keep his progress in the darkness, blazing a trail through it.

"Why are you here?"

Harry heard the voice as he pressed the magic forward, the darkness suddenly surging.

"Do you wish to take my freedom from me?"

Harry couldn't make sense of what was happening, but suddenly, the darkness pressed in with an overwhelming intensity. His heart raised as he called on his magic, trying to strengthen his 'defenses' against this new unseen onslaught. Yet despite his efforts, Harry could feel the presence, like a shadow just beyond his reach, swirling and dancing just outside of his view.

"I will not be a slave. I will not be captured. I am no one's pawn but my own."

Harry heard the voice—gentle yet laced with an unmistakable fury and finality. Who could that be? His throat tightened as he opened his mouth to speak, the words ready to spill out, assuring whoever it was that he had no intention of capturing it or enslaving anything. But the words stuck.

Wasn't that what he was trying to do?

Harry felt his magic stop for a second, the darkness pushing. The darkness was all around him when an idea came to his mind: why was he fighting it?

Harry could see the sparks of the crimson and gray around him holding off the void, the darkness. The shadow seemed to roil and froth back from the light.

But what if that was the problem?

Harry took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the presence swirling around him—angry, yet tinged with an undeniable sadness. It was a strange mixture of yearning and fury, a silent plea wrapped in frustration. As the realization hit him, Harry understood he had a choice. This presence, this force, was free in the shadows, existing in the very plane he could see. But why would he take it out of the darkness? What right did he have to pull it from the only place it seemed to belong?

Harry drew another deep breath, his body protesting with every movement, muscles aching as his magic surged and pulsed within him. He felt the power behind him, building with intensity. It was as if unseen hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him, reinforcing his decision.

Harry's eyes flared with a brilliant green light as he summoned the crimson glow back toward him. The gray light was more reluctant, resisting at first, but eventually it circled his body, hesitated, then slipped inside him. As it did, Harry felt the void cease its relentless assault, lingering just outside the fading remnants of the light he had conjured.

Harry waved his hand. The lights went out, the magic returning to him like soldiers to their general. The void seemed to rush back in with joyful glee, taking back the territory that Harry had wrested from it in the past three sessions.

And suddenly, Harry was engulfed once more in the darkness—completely and utterly consumed by it. He could see nothing, he world around him swallowed by shadows. All he could feel was the faint prickle of the ritual against his skin.

However, just as the prickle was beginning to fade, signaling the ritual's end for the night, Harry felt a soft pressure against his hand. A soft, wet nose sniffed his palm for the briefest moment before retreating back into the darkness.

And then, he was back, sitting in the basin as the moon's light disappeared. Harry took gulps of fresh air as his eyes opened, looking down, and seeing his hand.

Instead of a human hand, it was a glittering, silver-white paw. Its pads were like liquid silver, sleek and shimmering, while the fur that covered it was a soft, moonlit white. A single streak of crimson wound around the back of the paw, forming a vivid stripe of red that contrasted sharply against the pale fur.

"That is… excellent, Mister… Potter. You are… very close." McGonagall was out of breath, flopping once more into her chair and Harry noticed how her magic was nearly depleted. Sipping a potion from her desk, she sighed. "Hopefully you should have your animagus form by Christmas. I assume you pushed back the darkness you saw?"

Harry shook his head as he flexed his new paw, before he willed it to disappear. The paw quickly vanished and McGonagall privately wondered what sort of creature had silver pads. "No, Professor… I think I have been going about it wrong."

"Oh? Why is that, Mister Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"The presence seemed angry. Remember the presence I told you about? As I pushed my way towards it, it seemed to speak to me."

McGonagall sat forward, curious. "It spoke? I have never heard of an animagus form speaking to its owner."

"I don't know. It feels like something. I can't describe it. It is like it wants to be with me, yet it wants its freedom. It felt like it was angry that I was trying to force it to me."

"Preposterous, Mister Potter. Animagus forms are there for a witch and wizard's use. Nothing more. That's how it's always been."

"I don't know, Professor. I honestly don't know." Harry said, shaking his head.

McGonagall sighed. "Well, perhaps yours is unique. I have heard of some people becoming so attuned to their animagus form that their magic changes to match it. Perhaps that's what is happening. But my cat form required me to find it, and corral it with my magic. I genuinely believe that playing nice with an animal will not get you your animagus form."

"I know, Professor. But when I stopped trying to force it, that happened to my hand."

Professor McGonagall placed a hand thoughtfully on her chin, her eyes briefly closing as she considered the situation. "...Perhaps it's best if you tried this method once more in our next attempt, Potter. If it does not work, you should have three more rituals before the new year to try to get your form. But please… if you believe it will not work, then don't attempt to go down that path further. You have no time. Your magic is already chaotic, Harry." Her face was gentle, as she let out a soft sigh.

Harry nodded, rising to his feet. His mind buzzed with thoughts and uncertainties, the weight of the professor's words settling in. As he gathered his thoughts, he saw Professor McGonagall scribbling another note

Taking the note, Harry soon left the Professor in the classroom.

"Oh James and Lily. If only you could see how hardworking your son is. You would be proud." The wizened witch let out another sigh, sipping on the potion.

-Author's Notes-

A Thanksgiving update for all of you! This chapter was beta'd by Kaminton and Angie, who helped and beta'd it even though they had Thanksgiving holidays to deal with!

The Stone Troll's bounty is divvied up, and Harry finally makes progress on his Animagus form! The big question is, will he manage to unlock it before he turns into an animal? Well, you'll just have to see. As mentioned before, there's a reason this ritual isn't done much anymore!

Snape seems to slowly be getting better around Harry. Perhaps he will warm up to him by the end of the year? Maybe.

Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, not me.