Harry's voice trembled, rising to a sharp pitch. "I—I'm going to die?"

"Not if I can help it, Mr. Potter. If you can finish the animagus transformation by the new year, your body will naturally focus the magic into the animagus form, preventing it from permanently changing your body to that of an animal." Madame Pomfrey walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

Professor McGonagall had her hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes as Harry looked between the two. "But why is my magic trying to turn me into an animal?"

"Mister Potter, by doing such a large amount of magic as a small child before your body can naturally handle such, your magic built itself to an incredible degree. Normally, magical parents bind their child's magic when they are one year old, but your parents were obviously not able to do such before they passed. Without realizing it, you must have proceeded to self-transfigure your body to such an extent that your magic has become wild and chaotic. It has become so chaotic that it's reached the point where it lashes out at everything it thinks is a threat."

Harry remembered what happened to the older student in the common room, shuddering a bit. "But how will turning me into an animal kill me?"

"I should hope that is obvious, Mister Potter. After a while, your magic thinks that your body is at risk from itself, and will begin to attempt to 'solve' the problem. This will proceed to transform you little by little into an animal. However, this isn't like an animagus transformation or the innate, natural skills of a Maledictus; instead, your body attempts to transform you utterly and completely. When you fully turn into a creature, your mind will begin to degenerate. A human mind cannot fit inside that of a simple animal, Mr. Potter."

Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "T-then… how can I become an animagus?"

McGonagall stood up, seeming like she was going to fall over for a second before she stepped forward. "Normally, it requires a ritual and holding a special type of leaf under your tongue for a month. However, thanks to your magic being so feral and wild, it would influence and negate the magics that go into the leaf. This removes the normal method of becoming an animagus.

"The other method is a dangerous one and has been mostly lost to time." The older witch spoke, before her body shuddered. "It involves communing with magic itself; finding your animal spirit and becoming it. This is the method you will have to take, but it will be difficult and dangerous."

"Why is it dangerous?" Harry asked curiously. It didn't sound that bad to him at all.

"Meditating and communing with magic can only be done by releasing your own magic to the point it intermingles with the magic of the world. This can cause side effects; such as losing your magic or even outright killing you should magic itself find an issue with your presence within it. Not only that, but the communion can only be performed twice a month, on the new moon and the full moon, and requires complete concentration. Should the magic within you flow too much into the magic of the world, you will be left as nothing but a husk, devoid of soul and magic."

Madame Pomfrey looked troubled at this. "Minerva, what you mention is Old Magic, isn't it?" McGonagall's face dropped, before she gave a small nod as the mediwitch gasped suddenly. "If the Ministry or Dumbledore found out, they would throw you in Azkaban for practicing Dark Magic!"

"I failed the Potters once before, Poppy. I will not fail Harry, too." The old woman said, standing tall as she looked at the worried mediwitch.

Despite her protests, the woman gave a nod. "Then I will help you, Minerva. Any supplies you need, you get me a list, and I will disguise them with my medical supply requests."

McGonagall looked touched, before she took a deep breath. "Then all that needs to be said is from you, Mister Potter. Are you willing to take this risk, and work with me to gain your Animagus form?"

Harry, still tense and worried, nodded his head. "I-I'll try. The only other option is dying, right? I-I don't want to die. I have so much I want to do!" Harry thought about his life so far. Sure it had been rough, but he didn't want to die. His family, especially Uncle Vernon, were waiting on him to come home.

"Nonsense, child. You will not die. I will help you in every way I possibly can." Professor McGonagall had steel in her voice as she spoke to him. Her hand gently touched his shoulder when suddenly, Professor Snape walked into the room. "What is this about something life-threatening for one of my Snakes?"

McGonagall looked over. "Severus, we have a situation. Young Mister Potter has a case of Feral Shifting Syndrome."

The statement was slow and calm, but Harry saw a series of emotions flick across Snape's face until the man's visage settled on a cool neutrality. "I assume it's because Potter has been attempting to perform magic from a young age?"

"I-I haven't! N-not on purpose…" Harry stammered, "I-I always tried to keep it hidden…"

Professor McGonagall peered down at Harry before placing both hands on his shoulder. Her voice was gentle and soft as it spoke. "It's alright, Harry. No one blames you. If you had hated and refused your own magic, you could have done even worse damage. There are things called Obscurials, who hide their magic away until it kills them and deals damage to the people around them."

Harry shuddered at the revelation. Could he have become one of these 'Obscurials'? Still, the professor's consolationmade him feel a bit better, but Snape sneered. "The boy has given himself a dangerous magical malady, and you're trying to reassure the brat? Tell him the truth, Minerva. Explain that his arrogance is going to cost him his life."

Harry felt tears welling in his eyes as McGonagall's hand clenched around his shoulder. "Not if I have anything to say about it, Severus!" Her voice was raised and angry. "I don't know why you are so angry with the boy, but as you know the cure for it is to give the magic an outlet. The boy needs to become an animagus."

"Of course, the arrogant little popinjay is going to be getting special treatment. I assume you'll be purchasing all of the supplies needed and will hold his hand through the entire process?" Snape sneered.

"Severus!" Professor McGonagall shouted. "The boy could die from this. Whatever issues you have with him need to be set aside. He cannot use the potion; he will have to do it using the Old Ways."

Professor Snape froze at the statement, his voice quietly passing his lips. "You are aware the Headmaster has banned all of the old rituals in Hogwarts, correct?"

"That is why this never leaves this room. None of us can speak of it. Not even Mr. Potter." Harry noticed Professor McGonagall was peering down at him, awaiting a response.

"I-I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Harry's quick response made Snape snort. "He's probably eager to go run off and brag about it. And if he does and the headmaster finds out, all four of us will be removed from the school and be sent straight to Azkaban."

"Then we'll have the boy perform an oath. And all of us will do the same." Pomfrey stated from where she was watching.

"An oath?" Professor McGonagall blanched. "I… if it will get your support, Severus, I will do such."

Snape peered first at McGonagall, then Harry, and he snarled. "Fine. Let the brat's magic judge him, should he blab to the school."

The three adults looked at each other for a moment. Moving around Harry, they soon stood in a circle in the center of the Infirmary. Snape flicked his wand at the door, quickly sealing it with a glimmer of magic. Madame Pomfrey took a deep breath, raising her wand.

"I, Poppy Pomfrey, hereby swear on my magic that I will not speak of Harry James Potter's Feral Shifting Syndrome, or the methods being used to treat it to anyone other than Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, and Harry Potter. May magic judge me if I break this oath."

Her wand glowed with power pale and pure as a chain slide from it, wrapping around the witch's body and disappearing.

McGonagall was next, saying the same thing that Pomfrey had, and Snape looked at Harry as she finished. His face was once more a deep scorl, staring at Harry in a way that it seemed like he wanted to strangle him. It took mere moments before realizing Snape was waiting for him to perform the oath.

Raising his own wand, Harry took a deep breath and repeated the words he had heard. His magic surged and danced around him as he spoke, the words of the oath feeling like they were chiseled in stone. He felt the chain slide around him, his own magic accepting his oath as he felt the binding settle inside of him.

Scape's scowl had shifted to a more neutral tone as the man raised his wand himself, stating the same words like the three before him. When he finished, Snape looked back at Harry.

"So, Minerva, I assume you will attempt this weekend for the first try to save the brat's life? From what I remember of the ritual, it requires a full moon or a new moon's light to perform it." Snape asked, looking at her for confirmation.

When she nodded, he spoke up clearly and firmly. "I give permission, in loco parentis, for Harry James Potter to perform the rites with Minerva McGonagall, until such a time that Harry James Potter is cured or dead."

Harry whimpered gently, but McGonagall rested her hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes. "Thank you, Severus. That is all we required. If we need anything further from you, I shall send a patronus. Until then, I apologize for interrupting you."

Snape snorted and his gaze fell on Harry first, and then McGonagall. "Just be sure the boy doesn't waste the effort." With that, he spun around, his robes billowing around him as he stormed out.

When he left, McGonagall let out a soft exhale. "Now, Mister Potter, you are to come to my classroom this Saturday at curfew. You are not to miss it, am I clear?"

Harry nodded, his hands clasping and unclasping the sides of the chair nervously.

McGonagall nodded curtly at his response, "Now, back to class."

"No one is to bother Mr. Potter about his ability, nor ask about it in any way. If I hear anything about that leaving this room, I will be removing this entire class, Gryffindors and Slytherins both, a hundred points each person, and detentions for the entire class for three months. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." All of the students were quick to respond, a bit of horror in their eyes. That much of a punishment would completely ruin their chances to get the House Cup, and that many detentions? No one had ever heard of that many given out!

Several of the students looked at Harry, but then quickly turn their attention back to the front as the Professor started with her lesson. After around a thirty minutes of lecture about transfiguration and wand movements, she began handing out matches. "With what you have learned, I want you to attempt to transfigure this match into a needle. Do your best, because any who are unable to will have a foot of parchment on transfiguration wand movements, due by next class."

There were a lot of groans from the class as well as some angry glares at Harry. After all, he had cost them almost an hour of time to practice with the match!

Harry stared intently at the match, recalling the instructions from his first-year textbook. Slowly, he lowered his wand, glancing at the other students as they tried, noticing the faint wisps of magic flickering around their wand tips before fading away.

Steadying his focus, he channeled his magic into the wand, feeling it heat up as a soft swirl of energy emerged. Concentrating even harder on the matchstick—its texture, its shape—he poured his magic into the tiny object.

A soft hiss, like air leaking from a pinprick, was the only warning before—

POW!

The matchstick exploded into tiny splinters, and Draco, sitting beside him, let out a startled shout.

"Merlin, Potter, are you trying to get me killed? You turned that thing into a firework!" Draco winced as he picked a few fragments of wood from his robes.

McGonagall walked down the middle aisle towards them. "Your wand movement was good, Mister Potter, but your control is lacking. You poured far too much magic into your matchstick. Try again." She gave him another matchstick, and there was a FOOMPH as a Gryffindor's matchstick also burst into flames.

Professor McGonagall hurried over to the Gryffindor, a boy Harry remembered being named Seamus Finnegan. She put out the small fire with a flick of her wand, leaving Harry to return to his attempts as the chaos died down quickly.

It took a few tries for him learn how to relax his magic enough to let it carefully flow through his wand. It was strange, using it for the first real time. It was like an ocean trying to fit into a garden hose. Repeatedly, Harry began to practice. The first few tries he didn't put in enough magic, resulting in a metallic-looking match. The next few tries, he let too much through his wand, causing the matchstick to pop or simply burst into flames.

Just before the class ended, Harry's his magic trickle out, sliding around the matchstick. There was a gentle flourish of magic that Harry could see shimmer around it. With a small pulse of magic, the wooden matchstick turned into a needle. "I did it!" Harry cheered.

Draco grinned as he looked at Harry's side of the table. "About time, Potter. I finished ten minutes ago." Harry huffed, looking at the flawless needle in front of Draco.

The bell rang, and Harry pouted a bit. "Well, I'll beat you in the next class! What's next?"

Beside him, Draco took out his schedule and stood up. "Looks like it's Charms, with Professor Flitwick."

"We'd better get there quickly. Crabbe, Goyle, you, and I make a group of four, so let's get going." Harry said as the two larger kids moved up behind Draco.

Draco sighed in exasperation of the unwanted company before relenting. "Fine, let's get moving."

-Author's Notes-

A short chapter this time, but that's why I release on Thursdays as well as Mondays! I aim for 7-8k words a week, so you guys have plenty to read.

This chapter was once again beta'd by Angie!

And so you guys know the truth, of why Harry's magic seems so different and alien compared to everyone else's. It's like a tiger who's lived its life in captivity, against a tiger that's lived in the jungle its entire life. Harry's magic is raw and primal. Truly a force to be reckoned with.

Hopefully he can tame it by the New Year's, huh?

Thanks so much for sticking with the story, guys. It means a hell of a lot to me as a newbie writer on this site. Each and every one of you that follows is something special. If any of you would be interested in helping to beta-read and make sure everything is in order, just send me a PM!

Finally, Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, not me.