Harry and Draco, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, soon headed towards the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom. "So what do you know about Professor Quirrell?"
"Father said he's incredibly skilled. Supposedly, he's the best vampire hunter in England, and is related distantly to the famous Van Helsing Clan."
The name reminded Harry of something, but he couldn't name it. Stopping in front of the classroom door, Harry frowned and tried to think.
Draco, seeing his hesitation, laughed. "Mister Books doesn't know of the Van Helsings? They're the most famous Vampire Hunters in the world! Supposedly they're English, but their family lives in Transylvania."
Harry nodded. "I know I've heard the name SOMEwhere, but I can't remember where. But that's really cool! So he'll be a good teacher?"
Draco nodded quickly. "I bet he'll have tons of cool stories!"
Harry grinned as he pushed the door to the classroom open and hurried inside. They were a little early, a habit that was quickly becoming their norm, but Harry could see the sheer size of the Defense Classroom. It was easily four or five times bigger than any other classroom they'd been in so far, including the greenhouses!
"Whoa. This classroom's huge." Draco said, echoing Harry's thought.
Just then, Hermione walked in. "Of course it has to be large. All the houses in each year take Defense against the Dark Arts together," she said in matter-of-fact way.
"Hermione!" Harry said. "We missed you in the library."
Draco was silent, averting his gaze from the witch.
"I couldn't get there today. I had Potions with Professor Snape. He's cruel and strict. Asked a ton of questions and got angry when no one but me could answer them. He even called Neville a dunderhead."
"Yeah, Professor Snape is s-scary." Neville said as he walked in. A Hufflepuff Harry recognized as Susan Bones moved past him and took a seat.
"We have him tomorrow. You all did make sure to read the potion book before his class, right? He told all the Slytherins about it on the first evening, before giving out schedules." Harry pointed out.
"What?" Hermione almost shrieked. "That… that's not fair! He's giving Slytherin an advantage!"
Harry shrugged. "That's not much of an advantage, Hermione. All he said was to make sure we read the first few chapters of the book before his class."
"That's probably why I was able to answer his questions but no one else could." Hermione frowned. "I'll have to make sure to read further ahead before next week."
Neville sighed. "I guess I'd better read ahead, too. I almost blew up my cauldron."
Harry and Draco exchanged a brief, poignant glance before everyone began to take their seats. The classroom was unusually crowded, filled with nearly seventy students packed into the space.
When the bell finished ringing, the students peered about, Harry included, for where the Professor was. No one could see him, but suddenly, a head-splitting pain slammed into Harry like a knife to the head.
"Ssssss… owww…" Harry hissed, wincing and holding his head.
Moments later, the door to Professor Quirrell's quarters creaked open, revealing a glimpse of a turban and a pair of wary eyes peering around the edge of the doorframe. After a hesitant pause, the man stepped out, moving shakily toward the podium at the front of the room, his every step laced with timidity.
"T-t-thank y-y-you f-for c-coming today c-class…" As the man spoke, Harry felt the pain throb through his forehead like something was stabbing him repeatedly. His eagerness plummeted faster than a rock dropped from a plane. Every time he heard that stutter his head throbbed again as the class continued on.
As Harry heard the bell ring, he grabbed his stuff and staggered towards the door. That had been the worst class that Harry had ever had, even when he was at muggle school! Harry groaned, his head absolutely pounding.
"You alright, Potter? You've been rubbing your head the whole class." Draco said as he packed up his books. "Get a headache from his stuttering? I know I did. I can't believe father respects that man!"
Harry winced a bit. "I-I don't know. My head is burning. It's s-starting to calm now though…" Harry groaned as he walked out of the classroom with his friend.
After he crossed the threshold of the classroom, Harry felt his headache slowly begin to lessen. Explaining to Hermione and Neville he didn't feel good, he hurried towards the dungeons to where the Slytherin common room was. By the time they were back, the pain had lessened to a dull throb.
"Feeling better?" Draco asked. "If it's still hurting, we should go see Madam Pomfrey."
"No… I think it's okay now." Harry said, reaching up and touching his head. Despite feeling it, he didn't feel any blood at least, so he was thankful for that. "Well, it's curfew in a little while. I'm probably going to relax in the commons for a while, and see if Nott wants to play Wizard's Chess," Draco said.
Harry nodded then sighed. "I think I'm going to do some reading on my bed."
Draco grinned. "Read well, Raven-snake."
Harry blew a teasing raspberry at him as the blonde hurried to go find Nott.
After a few hours of reading, Draco entered their shared room. He found Amber and Harry quietly resting with a book, and without a word, he flopped onto his bed, quickly falling asleep. Harry glanced over the top of his book, a gentle grin spreading across his face. He knew he shouldn't be shifting into his fox form, especially after what he'd learned about Feral Shifters. But the urge felt so natural, so right.
After waiting a few minutes to make sure Draco was asleep, Harry quietly shifted into his fox form and nestled himself in Amber's coils on his bed, drifting off.
As the moon rose high in the sky, Harry woke suddenly, a sharp pain piercing through his body. He groaned, trying to steady himself, feeling his paws flex as he attempted to summon his magic—but something was wrong. He couldn't shift back.
Sitting up in alarm, Harry felt panic creeping into his mind, the feeling growing worse as his thoughts turned cloudy and sluggish. The fear surged, threatening to overwhelm him as he struggled, trapped in his fox form.
Harry gave a startled but muffled yelp, waking Amber up. The snake was still coiled around him. §§Ssssspeaker tassstesssss of fear. Doesssss sssspeaker need aid?§§
Harry responded quickly. §§I can't turn back! Why can't I turn back? If anyone sees me like this, then I'll lose my magic! I can't let anyone find out!§§
Harry's panic carried over to his hissing yips, and his ears were folded back. Amber hissed, starting to worry herself. She didn't know how to help her Master or how to fix this problem he had. Soon, there were two panicked creatures on Harry's bed. Amber's coils held Harry and preventing his yips from being heard.
As Harry and Amber continued to panic, Harry felt a strange tingling sensation spread within him. A soft glow emerged from his neck, where his pendant would rest if he were in human form, before releasing a sudden pulse of calming magic. The pulse felt like a gentle wave, wrapping around him soothingly. Amber quickly uncoiled herself as the pulse echoed again, settling over his form and easing the tension in his body. Slowly, the storm of magic within him—once a raging, uncontrollable force—began to calm, softening to a gentle, steady flow.
When Harry finally opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on his bed, drenched in sweat. The pendant around his neck gave off a faint, fading crimson glow. Taking slow, shaky breaths, he shuddered. He had almost been trapped in his fox form. And if he had been stuck like that…
Harry's thoughts faded as a tremor ran through his body, Madame Pomfrey's words echoing in his mind.
"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."
Wrapping his arms around himself, he shuddered. The risk was too high—he couldn't let himself turn back into a fox. If he did, he might lose himself entirely.
Drawing his knees to his chest, Harry curled into a tight ball, trembling. Amber slithered closer, pressing her scaled warmth against him, steady and reassuring. Together, they sat in silence, sharing the weight of his fear.
Neither of them wanted him to lose who he was.
-Author's Notes-
A short chapter today, mostly showing off the danger of Feral Shifting Syndrome. There WILL be another chapter on Thursday, don't worry! This is actually the shortest chapter in Book 1, not counting the Prologue.
Hopefully this establishes why exactly the disease is considered a magical disease in the first place. After all, why wouldn't EVERYONE use this method if Harry is getting so many benefits? Well, here's why: most people who use it don't make it to their 10th birthday, let alone beyond their 11th like Harry has.
Beta read by Angie, who helped me get this in a much more flowing format!
Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling.