Content Harry Potter
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"A D.A. tournament?" Dumbledore said when Harry told him about the idea the next day.  

"Yes!   It would be a way for them to try out their spells in a realistic situation, but not in battle conditions.   I think it would be good training, as well as a lot of fun," Harry enthused.

"I think it’s a great idea," Remus said with a grin.  

"I’ll speak with the staff about it, Harry, and see what we can work out.   If this All-Star Quidditch game is to take place in March, when would you like the D.A. tournament to take place?   And would it be open to anyone who wanted to enter, or just D.A. students?"

"That’s a good question — about who can enter, I mean.   I’m disqualifying myself, but I don’t see why Ron, Hermione and Ginny couldn’t try if they want.   I mean, I get extra training with you.   It just wouldn’t be fair," Harry said with a shrug.

"Quite so.   I believe you should be one of the judges, since you’re the Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion as well as the founder of D.A.," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Me?   Oh, erm, well. . ." Harry stammered.

"I think you should, Harry," Remus said encouragingly.  

"Well, I’ll leave that up to you," the boy said with a shrug.   "As for when?   How about April or May?   Their skills will be about as good as they’ll get for the year then.   And they won’t have to do any extra studying or practice — we can set it up so all the challenges use skills they’ve learned in D.A."

"I believe it’s an excellent idea," Dumbledore said, looking very pleased.   "I’ll discuss it with the staff and come up with entry criteria, rules, and so on.   Since you have members of various levels, do you want to have competitions of differing levels, as well?"

"I suppose that would work," Harry agreed.   "I’m not really certain how any of this will work, but I want it to be both exciting and safe for those involved.   It’s supposed to be fun for those involved, not life-threatening," he said with a crooked grin.  

"You’ve started my mind whirling in some very interesting directions," Dumbledore said with a delighted smile.   "Organizing the Tri-Wizard Tournament was a tremendous headache in many ways, but I think organizing this one will be a pleasure.   I’ll get some of the staff to work on rules and so forth, and they can get with you and Remus about what the appropriate challenges will be.   Oh, I’m looking forward to this!" he said excitedly.   "What fun!"

Harry grinned.   When Dumbledore was excited, you could see the boy in him, regardless of how old and wizened he was now.   At the moment, he was acting like a teenager himself, his eyes alight with anticipation, a huge grin on his face, and an aura of energy coming off of him in waves.

"Be sure to ask Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger and Miss Weasley to share any further ideas they have on this project," Dumbledore added.   "Well done, Harry!   Well done, all around."

"It was Ginny’s idea," Harry reminded him, grinning at the old man’s enthusiasm.

"Well, that was an enjoyable discussion!   But now, I suppose we should get to work," Dumbledore said.   "Let’s go out to the edge of the forest.   It’s a nice enough day to work outside."

Harry grinned.   "And then I won’t be able to blow up your office again," he said with a laugh.

"Indeed!" Dumbledore replied, smiling broadly.   "I had far too many things in here anyway."   When he saw the blush on Harry’s face, he clapped the young man on the shoulder affectionately.   "As I told you at the time, things can be replaced.   What you learned from that experience is priceless.   And what I learned from it is to use other facilities for such spells," he added, chuckling.   "It was a worthwhile effort all around."

Remus laughed quietly at the banter between Dumbledore and Harry.   Harry had told him about accidentally blowing up half of Dumbledore’s office with a spell he’d cast with far too much power.   The sight of the headmaster standing covered in dust and debris and laughing in delight at the amount of power Harry now had was something the young wizard would never forget.   Remus would never forget Harry’s expression, a mixture of horror, shock, and amusement, when he told the story.   And Dumbledore, when he and Remus discussed it, was nearly dancing with excitement, the destruction of his property clearly the least of his concerns.

At the edge of the forest, out of sight of the castle, Harry pulled out the wand containing his hair as the magical core.   He’d been working with it regularly, under the supervision of Remus or Dumbledore, or sometimes, as today, both of them.   He’d refined his control quite well after a few initial mishaps, including the time he’d accidentally blown up half of Dumbledore’s office.   Fortunately, most of the headmaster’s things were repairable with a simple charm, but others. . .well, Harry was just glad Dumbledore was the forgiving sort, and had also done such things himself in his youth.

"I want you to work on that Sphere Shield Charm of yours," Dumbledore said, referring to a charm Harry had discovered in the Dark Arts books, and then put a few of his own twists on.  

"Did I tell you it will contain Peeves now?" Harry said suddenly.

"No, but Professor McGonagall mentioned it.   She was quite amused by the whole thing.   I’d love to hear more about it," Dumbledore said, his mouth quirked in amusement.   Harry told him the story, and Dumbledore and Remus laughed out loud at hearing how Peeves had finally been bested.  

"I’m so glad you allowed him an outlet, Harry," Dumbledore said when the story ended.   "Yes, I could remove him if I wanted to, but I think everyone deserves to be somewhere, and this is just where Peeves happens to be.   Well done for telling him to keep your name out of it in case anyone notices he’s no longer attacking Gryffindors."

"Yeah, I have enough trouble as it is, without adding preferential treatment from a poltergeist to it," Harry said with a chuckle.

"So. Your Sphere Shield Charm is impervious to poltergeists.   That’s quite interesting.   I’ve been looking forward to your trying it on various things, to see how strong it really is.   I’m going to conjure a rat, Harry.   I want you to capture it and hold it with your sphere."

"The sphere will hold it," Harry said, puzzled.   "It held Lucius Malfoy, and held against his spells, even the Killing Curse."

"Yes, but it was a very difficult spell to hold, you said.   I want to see if this new wand makes it easier to hold, and what other things you can do with the sphere.   For instance, if you shrink the sphere, will it crush the rat?   Or will it die from a lack of oxygen if you hold the spell long enough?   How light a charm can be done and still contain a living being?   That type of thing."   Dumbledore looked at Harry to see if he had questions.

"I held Peeves with a very lightweight sphere," Harry said thoughtfully.   "It was barely there, and easy to hold."

"Which wand did you use?" Remus asked.

Harry thought a moment.   "This one, actually.   It was stuck in the pocket of my robes and I’d just untangled it when we found Peeves attacking the firsties."

"Excellent!   You’re getting good control over this wand, then!   Well done, Harry!" Dumbledore enthused.   "Any questions before we begin?"

"Do you want me to kill this rat?" Harry asked, wanting to be absolutely clear on what his headmaster expected him to do.

"Yes," Dumbledore said seriously.   "This charm is a very unusual one.   I don’t believe there are many defences against it, since I’ve never heard of anyone actually using it before."

"But I found it in a book!" Harry interrupted.   "Surely it wouldn’t have been written down if someone hadn’t used it!"

"It could have been a purely theoretical exercise and still be included in that book, Harry," Dumbledore said patiently.   "I honestly have never heard of anyone using it successfully — until you, that is.   Now then, back to our experiments today.  I want to see what you can do with it.   Take it as far as you can in every direction.   I can always conjure more rats."

"All right," Harry said, holding his new wand at the ready with the light grip he’d found worked best with it.

Dumbledore conjured the rat, which began racing across the meadow.   Harry conjured his sphere and captured it neatly, holding it in a delicate sphere that glistened with the softest possible golden light.

"This is the. . . ‘light’ version of the sphere, I suppose you’d say," Harry said as he held the sphere carefully between his hand and his wand.   "This is how I captured Peeves."

"How difficult is that for you to hold?" Remus asked.

"This version isn’t difficult at all.   It’s a fiddly spell, delicate and fragile, but once I have it in place, it doesn’t take a lot of effort to hold.   It’s more a matter of, um. . . ."   He paused, searching for the right word.

"Finesse?" Remus offered.

"Yeah, that’s it!   Finesse!" Harry responded.   "And I can do other spells while I’m holding this one, once I have it secure."

"What other types of spells, Harry?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Um. . .the Stunning Spell, Impedimenta, simple ones like that," he said with a shrug.  

"Impedimenta isn’t a simple spell," Remus chuckled.

"Well, compared to some things it is," Harry retorted with a laugh.  

"Show me how you’d do another spell while holding the sphere," Dumbledore suggested.

"OK," Harry replied.   He focused his attention on the sphere for a moment, then moved the wand point inside it, and said "Stupefy!"   The Stunned rat fell over on its side.   "Ennervate," Harry said, and the rat got on its feet and began running in circles inside the sphere.

"Well done, Harry, well done!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

"Thanks," Harry said with a grin, glancing up at his headmaster.   He went back to watching the rat, which was racing around inside the sphere, trying to find a way out.   "What do you want me to do now?"

"I’d like you to concentrate the sphere, Harry.   Make the walls thicker, more opaque, make the sphere itself smaller.   Go slowly.   I want to see how far you can take it before you can’t hold it anymore," Dumbledore explained.

Harry complied, and the sphere darkened and shrunk, then fizzled into nothingness, the rat racing away.   Dumbledore pointed his wand at it and it vanished.  

"Sorry," Harry said with a shrug.   "I guess I can’t hold it that well yet."

"But you didn’t have to hold it, not the way you did with Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore said patiently.   "You weren’t under attack.   You weren’t angry.   You’re actually quite relaxed at the moment.   I think things will be quite different if you’re under attack or angry."

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed.

"All right, then," Dumbledore said, pacing away from the boy a bit.   "Defend yourself!"

"What?   Sir, I don’t want to hurt you!" Harry said, horrified at the thought of capturing his beloved headmaster in his sphere and possibly injuring him.

Dumbledore shot a spell at Harry that stung his leg.   "I’m going to keep stinging you until you defend yourself, Harry!"

Harry danced out of the way, dodging the spells as well as he could, but Dumbledore was a master dueller and deceptively quick for a man of his age.  

"Come on, you young whelp, fight!   Fight, I say!" Dumbledore challenged him.   "Get angry!   Show me what you can do!"   He kept sending the Stinging Nettles Charm at Harry, giving him welts all over his body.

Finally, Harry lost his patience and started fighting back, at first with light charms, then more seriously.   Dumbledore blocked his spells easily at first, then had to work much harder to protect himself.  

Remus finally yelled, "The sphere, Harry!   Do the sphere!"

Harry threw a Sphere Shield Charm surrounding Dumbledore, and found very quickly that he needed to thicken the walls.   The old wizard was sending quite serious spells his way now, just barely managing to cancel them before they bounced back on him.   Harry was panting now, his eyes glittering green fire, determination in every muscle.   He began to pour power into the sphere, focusing on making it smaller and with thicker walls.

"Harry!   Stop!" Remus called, then put his hand on his godson’s shoulder to get his attention.

Harry had been concentrating so hard, he hadn’t heard Remus’s cry, but he felt the man’s strong hand on his shoulder and released the sphere so quickly that Dumbledore stumbled and fell.   "Professor!   I’m sorry!   Are you all right?" Harry cried, rushing to the old man’s side.

Dumbledore was gasping for breath, his face blue.

"What have I done?" Harry moaned miserably.   "Professor, I’m sorry!"   He began to run his hands over the old man’s body to sense for injuries, trying to help him.

"I’m fine, dear boy, just fine," Dumbledore gasped after a moment.   "No injuries, but I was running out of air in there."

"I’m so sorry!" Harry repeated wretchedly.

Dumbledore laid a calming hand on Harry’s arm.   "Don’t apologize, Harry.   You did exactly what I told you to do.   We had to learn how strong that charm is, and how hard it is for you to hold it.   We had to test it."   His colour was improving, and he finally sat up, with Remus’s and Harry’s help.   He was grinning broadly.   "I cannot tell you when I’ve had more fun!"

"What?" Harry said, absolutely shocked.

"It was fun!" Dumbledore insisted.

"But I hurt you!" the boy protested.   "If Remus hadn’t stopped me. . . ."

"But he did, dear boy, and that’s why we had him with us, so we’d have a third party to make certain we didn’t kill each other by accident!"   Dumbledore was chuckling.   "That was most entertaining!   Quite amazing.   I must say, I haven’t had that much fun in ages!"

Harry sat back on his heels, completely baffled.   "Fun?   In what possible way was it fun?"

"I got to see what it’s like to face you in battle, just a bit, but still — oh, my, what an experience!   You are a wonderfully powerful wizard, Harry.   You weren’t even working hard.   If you’re truly focused, that Sphere Shield Charm is a very powerful tool!   Well done!   Full marks!"   Dumbledore grabbed Remus’s and Harry’s proffered hands and got to his feet.   "Next time, though, I think we’ll put Remus in the sphere!"

"I don’t want to do that again with anyone I care about," Harry said, still quite unnerved by the whole experience.

"Have you had enough for one evening?" Dumbledore asked, seeing Harry’s distress.

"Yeah.   I’d rather not do any more this evening, if you don’t mind."

"Not a problem, lad.   Now then.   I’d like you to continue researching that charm and those that are similar to it.   I can see some very interesting uses for it in battle, as well as in your duties as an Auror, once you become one."

"All right," Harry agreed.   "But about that, sir?"

"About what?"

"About my becoming an Auror," Harry said, glancing uneasily at his headmaster.   "I know Professor McGonagall and Minister Bones have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure I can get into Auror School. . ."

"Quite honestly, Harry, your marks are good enough for you to get in on your own," Remus commented with pride.

Harry smiled a bit.   "Well. . .it’s just that I’ve seen enough battle for a lifetime already.   I’m not certain I want to be an Auror anymore."

"What would you like to be, then?" Dumbledore asked with interest.

"Seriously?"   Seeing his headmaster’s encouraging nod, Harry smiled shyly and said, "I’d love to play professional Quidditch.   Ron and I are hoping our team will be good enough this year that the scouts will come look at both of us, but honestly, with two new Chasers, I don’t know if that’s going to happen or not.   I don’t know how good our chances are for the Cup, and without that, I don’t think they’ll consider us."

"What will you do when you’ve finished playing Quidditch?" Remus asked quietly.

"Maybe coach.   Maybe come back to Hogwarts and teach," he said, smiling at his headmaster, "but I’d like to see some of the world before I do that."

"So you don’t see yourself as an Auror at all?" Remus said, his head tilted as he studied his godson’s face.

"No.   Yes.   Maybe.   I mean, I know I’m good at this Auror kind of stuff.   But I’m tired of the fighting."

"Aurors rarely have to fight in the normal course of their work, Harry," Remus assured him.   "They do a lot more paperwork than you’d imagine.   You’ve been doing the work of a soldier in a war, not the normal work of an Auror.   Talk to Tonks.   Maybe she can help you get a better picture of what they do.   You’ve based most of your ideas on what Mad-Eye’s told you, haven’t you?"   Harry nodded.   "Well, Mad-Eye was one of the more combative Aurors, although he brought in his quarry alive far more often than dead.   But most Aurors don’t make a habit of going after the worst of the lawbreakers alone, as Moody did so often.   Talk to Tonks before you make a final decision."

"But I’d really like to play Quidditch," Harry said sadly.

"If you get recruited, you could go to evening classes for your Auror training," Remus said encouragingly.   "You can do both if you want to."

"I can?   I didn’t know that," he said in surprise, but then he shook his head and sighed.   "If a Quidditch team will have me."

"Don’t give up yet.   The Quidditch season is still young!   You haven’t played your first game yet," Remus said, clapping the young man on the shoulder.

Dumbledore put his finger beside his nose.   "I have it on good authority that your two new Chasers are actually quite good in comparison to the competition," he said, his eyes twinkling.   "Don’t tell anyone you heard that from me, though!"

Harry grinned at the mischievous light in his headmaster’s eyes.   "Really?   Ours are better than theirs?"

"You didn’t hear that from me!" Dumbledore said, grinning broadly as they reached the top of the marble staircase, the parting of the ways between his office, Gryffindor Tower and Remus’s quarters.   "Good night, Harry.   I greatly enjoyed our little exercise this evening."

"Are you sure you’re all right, sir?   Should we go with you to the hospital wing to get you looked at?" Harry asked, still concerned.

"I’m fine, lad.   Don’t worry about me.   I haven’t had that much fun in years!   Sleep well!   Good night, Remus!   Thank you for your help this evening."   With that, Dumbledore went down the hall toward his office with his usual quick, long strides.

"Do you think I hurt him?" Harry asked his godfather.

"You might have done if he hadn’t put protections around himself before he let you put that sphere around him.   He was relatively safe because he had an idea what to expect.   A real enemy wouldn’t know to do that, so your sphere will be a formidable weapon for you.   Keep working on it!"

"I will," the boy replied.

"You did give him quite a workout!" Remus added.   "I’m not sure I’d hold up as well as he did under the circumstances!   I’ll have to make certain I have those protections in place long before I let you anywhere near me with that sphere!" he teased.

"No, don’t worry about it," Harry said seriously.   "I don’t want to do that to anyone I care about.   I meant that.   Now if Malfoy showed up. . . ."   He grinned cheekily.

"Lucky for Draco that he’s still in prison, then," Remus said, patting his godson on the back.   "Oh, before you go. . ."

"What?"

"Tonks and I wanted to ask you something."   Remus blushed a bit as he spoke.

"Yeah?" Harry said, his interest piqued.

"We’d like you and Ginny to stand up for us.   I’d like you to be my best man, and Tonks wants Ginny as her maid of honour.   We’d also like Ron and Hermione to stand up with us if they will."

"That’s brilliant!" Harry said happily.   "Yes, of course I’ll do it, and I’m sure the others will, as well.   D’you want me to ask them for you?"

"Would you?   It’s difficult for me to find time to talk to them with no one else around.   Tonks would ask the girls herself, but as you can imagine, the Aurors are staying pretty busy these days."

"I’d be happy to ask them.   Just let us know what we need to do, what we need to wear, all that."

"Oh, your normal dress robes will be fine, Harry," Remus said quickly.   "We’re not doing anything elaborate."

Harry knew neither his godfather nor Tonks could afford anything fancy.   He’d have to have a talk with Dobby about the reception and make sure it was as special as they could manage.   "OK.   Dress robes it is.   Dobby and Winky will enjoy having guests.   How many are you inviting?"

"Just the Order members, since it will be at your house.   If we had it anywhere else, it would be difficult to invite some of the Order members, since people outside the Order aren’t supposed to know that we know each other," Remus said with a smile.   "Thank you for letting us use the house."

"It will be fun!   And the reception will be my gift to you, all right?   No arguments!   I have house elves who love to cook!"

Remus was touched.   He knew any reception at all was expensive, and Harry was such a generous person, whatever he hosted would probably be a great deal more elegant than anything he or Tonks expected.

Harry saw his hesitation.   "She’s worth it, Remus.   So are you.   Don’t give me a hard time about it.   You two deserve the best possible start to your marriage."

"She is worth it, you’re right," his godfather said with a smile.   "All right, then.   Thank you so much."

"My pleasure!" he said sincerely.

Remus squeezed his godson’s shoulder fondly.   "Well then, I’m off.   Good night, lad."

"Good night."

* * * * *

"These human to animal transfigurations are fun!" Hermione enthused as she, Ron and Harry got their books and wands out to do their homework several days later.   They were at their favourite table in the corner of the Common Room.

"Yeah, for you maybe," Ron said morosely.   "You could do it first go.   It’s just not fair."

Hermione’s temper snapped.   She put her hands on her hips and "humphed" impatiently.   "Ronald Weasley!   Who are you to talk about what is and isn’t easy in Transfiguration?   You’re a registered Animagus now!   And I still can’t get past a partial Animagus transfiguration no matter how hard I try!"

"That is odd," Ron allowed with a shrug, glancing uneasily from her to Harry.   "Isn’t it, Harry?"

"I’m staying out of this conversation," he said with a smile, then buried his nose in his book.

"Oh, no, you aren’t, Harry!" Hermione said decisively.   "We’re talking about this right now!"

Harry looked wounded.   "What did I do?"

Hermione leaned across the table toward him, glanced around to be certain nobody was paying attention to them, then hissed, "What, eight Animagus forms now?   Nine?   I’ve lost count!   THAT’s what you did!   Why can’t I do even one?"

Harry sat back, nonplussed.   "I don’t know," he said honestly.   "I’ve told you everything I can think of to help you, Hermione.   I haven’t held anything back.   I don’t know what else to do to help you."   He’d even changed her into a poodle toward the end of the previous school term to help her get over any fears she might have about the transformation.

Hermione sat back looking irritated, her arms crossed tightly, scowling fiercely.   The boys could hear her foot tapping impatiently on the floor under the table.   Finally, her face relaxed a bit, but she looked sad, sighing heavily.   "I’m sorry.   I’m just so frustrated."

"It’s OK, Hermione," Harry said bracingly, "you’ll get it eventually."

She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging. "Actually, I probably won’t," she admitted.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, leaning toward her and putting his hand on her arm in concern.

"I’ve been researching all the Animagi in recorded history," she began  

Both boys looked at her in open-mouthed shock.  

"Oh, don’t look like that," she chided them.   "There aren’t that many."

"What did you find out?" Harry prompted her.

"Every single one seems to have been either pureblood or half-blood like you, Harry," she said despondently.   "Not one Muggleborn."

"You’re kidding!" Harry said, amazed.

"I wish I were," she said with a sigh.

"Have you talked to McGonagall about this?" Ron said quietly.

"Yes.   She was as surprised as I was by the results of my research.   She looked over my notes and agreed, not one was a Muggleborn."   Hermione looked despondent.

"What about Peter Pettigrew?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Pureblood, can you believe it?" she replied, shaking her head in disbelief.   "How such a creepy, awful person could be pureblood. . . ."

"Uh, can we say ‘Malfoy?’" Ron said with a snigger.

"Watch it, Ginny’s coming over," Harry warned quietly.   Ginny still flinched whenever she heard Malfoy’s name due to his kidnapping and abusing her during the summer.

"Hi!" Ginny said brightly.   "What are you working on?"

"Human to animal transfigurations," Harry replied with a smile, pulling a chair out beside him for her.

"That sounds exciting.   I can’t wait to do those!" she said enthusiastically.   "What are you doing?"

Harry glanced over at Hermione, who was still fuming.   "I suspect Hermione is about to turn me into a baboon," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Ginny laughed.   "A baboon?   Why?"

"I’ve annoyed her," he said with a casual shrug.   "Go ahead, Hermione, you know you want to do it. Just do remember to reverse it when you think you’ve punished me enough, all right?"   He gave her a cheeky grin.   She stuck her tongue out at him in reply.

"How did you annoy her?" Ginny asked, astonished.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, since several younger students had just seated themselves nearby, "Because she can’t get the Animagus transformation."

Ginny sat back and looked at him seriously.   "Oh.   I see.   And yet you’re willing to let her change you into something?"

"I think changing me into a baboon or something equally detestable will satisfy her.   Aren’t baboons the ones with the bright red bums?" he said, working hard to tease Hermione out of her dark mood.   He glanced at her and saw a smile starting in her eyes.

"Yeah, I think they do have red bums, but not all the time, or not all of them.   I don’t know that much about them honestly," Ginny replied, looking uncertainly from Harry to Hermione.   "Are you sure you want to let her?"

"She’s the smartest witch in our year," Harry replied confidently.   "If she can’t change me back, McGonagall can do it.   And Hermione is, of course, the best at this in class every day.   This would just be practice."

"I’m not the best," Hermione said doggedly.   "You began changing Ron into a collie long before he worked out how to do it himself, and that was months ago."

"Well, erm, that’s just one person, one animal. . ." Harry said, trying his best to mollify her.

Hermione sighed and stood up suddenly.   "Let’s go and find an empty classroom, then," she said determinedly.   "Baboons are rather active.   You might need room to run."

"Still angry with me, are you?" Harry said, giving her his most charming smile.

Hermione sighed.   "No, I’m not angry with you, Harry.   But I do think we need more room to work in.   I’m sorry I blew up at you.   It’s not your fault you’re better at something than I am."

He leaned over and rapped his knuckles gently on top of her head.   "I fly better than you, too, y’know."

"Oh, sod off!" she said, laughing at last.   She couldn’t resist Harry when he was in one of his playful moods.

"OK," he said amiably.   "Still going to turn me into a baboon?"

"Of course!   It sounds like a wonderful idea to me," she said, gathering her things and packing them in her bag.

Ron and Ginny had watched this exchange curiously, looking from Hermione to Harry as if they were watching a tennis match.   When Hermione closed her bag decisively and looked at Ron and Harry expectantly, the two of them packed up and followed her docilely out of the portrait hole, Ginny trailing after them.

"Don’t you have work to do?" Harry said when she caught him up and took his hand in hers.

"Right now, I’m looking after your best interests," she said quietly, so Ron and Hermione couldn’t hear her.   "I’m going with you.   If she loses her temper again, or can’t change you back, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of."

"That’s my girl, always looking after poor Harry," he said, leaning down and kissing the top of her head.

"Well, somebody has to do it!" she said, leaning her cheek against his arm and smiling up at him.

"This looks good," Hermione said, opening an empty classroom.   The others followed her in and set their things down.   Once the boys had opened their books and gone through the instructions again, Hermione said, "Harry, were you serious?   Will you let me change you into something?"

"’Course.   Even a baboon, if it will make you happy," he said agreeably.

"All right then.   Ron, Ginny, stand back," Hermione warned, pushing up her sleeves and getting a good grip on her wand.   She stared seriously at Harry for a moment, concentrated on the word "baboon," then said "Abeo vir tenus bestia," and waved her wand in the prescribed manner.   With a small "pop" Harry disappeared and a large male baboon squatted where Harry had been.

"Wow, Hermione!   That was great!" Ginny said in admiration.   "Now change him back!"

"No, wait," Ron prompted, a grin on his face.   "Give him a chance to play.   Look at him.   He can’t wait."

Ron was right.   The baboon was bouncing up and down on its legs, as if trying out its new body.   Suddenly it screeched and bounded across the room, leaping from desk to desk, jumping up to swing from the rafters, then dropping easily to the floor and rolling over and over before stopping in front of Ginny and leaning affectionately against her leg, wrapping its tail around her possessively.   She reached down and scratched the long hair behind its ears.  

"You’re a very handsome baboon, Harry," she said, smiling at him.  

The baboon opened its mouth and hooted, showing its enormous fangs as it bounced up and down on its legs beside her.

Hermione was laughing by this time.   "Well done, Harry!   You make a wonderful baboon.   Are you ready for me to change you back?"

The baboon rubbed its cheek on Ginny’s leg and looked up at her, then over at Hermione and Ron.   It moved away from Ginny, sat back on its haunches and gazed steadily at Hermione.   She did the reversal charm, and Harry was instantly himself, standing there with a huge grin on his face, his eyes sparkling.

"Brilliant, Hermione!" he said enthusiastically.   "Full marks!"  

"What’s it like being a baboon?" Ron said, grinning at his friend.

"It’s fun, actually.   Those legs are like tremendous springs — I could do fantastic jumps with them," Harry replied.   "I wished you were a baboon too, so we could chase each other.   I kept thinking there should be others like me around, and that it would be great fun to play with them."

"Well, baboons are social animals and live in large groups," Hermione said wisely.   "Maybe that’s why you felt that way."  

Harry just shrugged in response, his eyes still dancing merrily.

"Harry, are you willing to be a baboon again?" Ron said hopefully.

"Sure, mate.   So it’s your turn, eh?" Harry replied easily.

"Yeah," Ron said, "if you don’t mind."

"Nah.   It was fun!" Harry replied, looking at Ron confidently.   "Have a go, then."

They had practiced this transformation in class many, many times, with mixed results.   Ron had finally begun to have regular success with it, as long as he only did dogs or wolves.   He was nervous about trying to turn his best friend into something other than some form of canine.  

"Go on, Ron, I know you can do this," Harry encouraged him.

Harry’s trust in him gave Ron confidence, so he took a deep breath, concentrated on the word "baboon," waved his wand and said the incantation.   There sat Harry as a baboon again.   "Wicked!" Ron breathed, breaking into delighted laughter.   "It worked!   Look at him!   I did it!"

"Good one, Ron!" Ginny complimented him.

"I knew you could do this once you believed in yourself enough," Hermione said supportively.

The baboon took off across the room again, bounding onto the window ledge and then leaping up to the chain that supported the chandelier.   He went hand over hand up the chain and soon sat on the swaying chandelier, where he screeched happily, keeping it moving with wide swings of his tail.   He started pulling candles out of their holders and bombarding his friends with them, making a monkey sound somewhat resembling a laugh all the while.

"OK, Harry, come down now!" Ron said, laughing as he caught the thrown candles.   "Come on, or I’ll change you back up there and you can make your own way down!"

"Or he’ll just change into a bird and fly down," Hermione said, a bit sadly.

The baboon held his hands out expectantly, and Ron tossed the candles back up to him.   After replacing the candles in their sockets, the baboon climbed down to hang by his long arms from the edge of the chandelier, then started it swinging widely, letting go at just the right moment to land neatly on the window ledge.   He scampered down and settled on his haunches in front of Ron, looking up at him expectantly.

Ron did the reversal charm and instantly, Harry was revealed, but not the Harry they knew.   He still had the back legs and tail of a baboon.

"Erm, Ron?   Could you fix this?" he said, snorting with laughter.

Ron’s eyes were wide with shock.   "I’m sorry!   Yes, hang on," he said, flustered.   "I don’t know what I did wrong.   Let me check the book again."   He checked the book and turned back to Harry, trying the incantation again.   No change.   Ron ran his hands frantically through his hair, making it stand on end.   "Bloody hell!   I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!"

"I’d honestly like my own lower half back again, if you don’t mind," Harry said patiently.

"This didn’t happen in class," he said in frustration.   "I don’t know what I did wrong."

"Just try it again," Harry said reasonably.

"OK," he said nervously, then waved his wand and said the reversal incantation once more.  

Harry sat there gazing at him hopefully, still with a baboon’s back legs and tail.

"Damn, damn, damn.   I’m sorry, mate!" Ron said in frustration.  

"Ron," Hermione said, "point your wand over in the corner and show me the movement again."   He complied.   "I think you made too much of a flick at the end."

"Really?" he said, hope lighting his eyes.   Hermione was wonderful at spotting even the tiniest error in wand movement, and he trusted her judgement completely.

"Yes.   Try it again," she said supportively.

He had another go, and Harry finally had his own legs and no tail at all.  

"Whew, thanks!" he said in relief.  

"Ron, you need to do it again," Hermione said.   "Harry, do you mind?"

Harry sighed.   "All right.   Have another go."

"You trust me after all that?" Ron said in disbelief.

"Why not?   You fixed it eventually.   You’ll never learn if you don’t try," Harry said reasonably.

And so it went.   Hermione and Ron both practiced on Harry, who said he enjoyed being a baboon.   Ginny laughed at his antics, and paid close attention so that it would be easier for her when she had to do such transformations her seventh year.

After about an hour of work, Harry was getting tired.   "I think it’s my turn, now," he said.

"Uh. . .OK," Hermione said hesitantly.   "Which of us do you want to change?"

"How about both of you," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.   "I was lonely as a baboon.   They’re supposed to be in groups, you know."

"OK, if that’s what you want to do, go ahead," she said bravely.

"I’ll do Ron first, how’s that?" he said, noticing that she was nervous about the whole thing.

"Fine with me, mate," said Ron, who’d been turned into a collie by Harry numerous times before he’d conquered his Animagus transformation himself.   Moments later, a baboon sat where Ron had stood.

"Well, of course you’re good at this," Hermione said with a sigh.  

Harry just shrugged and gave her a cheeky grin.   "Ready?"

She braced herself.   "All right.   Go ahead."   A moment later, she was a baboon with a bright red bum.

"Harry, why’s Hermione’s bum red and Ron’s isn’t?   Yours wasn’t, either," Ginny said suddenly.

"I don’t know," he said, scratching his head.   "Maybe because she’s female?"

The two baboons sat close together, making soft sounds and grooming each other’s fur.  

"That’s interesting," Harry said, tilting his head.   "I thought they would have wanted to run and play like I did.   The baboon in me was just itching to get up on that chandelier."

"Uh-oh," Ginny said, bursting into laughter as the male baboon started being overly friendly with the female, grunting happily as he pushed her face down on the floor and grabbed her shoulders.   "I think their inner baboons have something different in mind!   You’d better stop them before this gets embarrassing!"

Harry was doing his best to stifle his laughter so he could say the incantations correctly.   A moment later, Ron and Hermione stood where the baboons had been, both of them blushing madly and looking uneasily at each other.   Ron was holding his hand over his crotch, as well.

"Now I know why McGonagall has us do all different kinds of animals in class," Harry said, shouting with laughter now.   "Sorry, guys, I didn’t even think about that kind of thing happening."

Ron’s face was redder than his hair.   He snorted with embarrassed laughter.   "Who knew a red bum would be that sexy?" he muttered.   "That stupid baboon took me over!   I’m sorry, Hermione."   He stood uneasily a moment more, his hand still covering his crotch.   "Erm, excuse me," he said, then left the room, his friends doing their best to stifle their amused grins.   Once he was gone, they doubled up with laughter.

"OK, we know better than to do that again," Hermione said when she caught her breath.

"I’m sorry, Hermione.   I honestly didn’t expect. . .I mean, I was lonely as a baboon, I didn’t know. . .I’m. . . ."   Harry was breathless with laughter again.

"Boy, am I glad I saw that," Ginny said when she was able to talk again.   "If any of you had told me about it, I wouldn’t have believed you!"

"You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?" Hermione said, looking in horror from Ginny to Harry and back again.

Harry placed a calming hand on her shoulder.   "No, Hermione, we won’t tell.   No problem.   But it was funny, wasn’t it?"

"I wouldn’t call it ‘funny,’ exactly," she said, squirming a bit under their scrutiny.   "I thought he was pretty hot, as well."   Her comment made them all burst into laughter again.

"OK, let’s go back to the Common Room," Harry said finally.   "We can practice making each other into smaller animals, how’s that?   Ginny does have homework to do, so she needs to get back, and we all have other work to do as well."

"And we should check on poor Ron," Ginny said, going off into gales of laughter again.

When they arrived in the Common Room, Ron was nowhere to be found.  

"I’ll go and look for him," Harry said, setting his books down on the table across from Hermione’s and taking the steps two at a time.   First he checked their dormitory.   No Ron.   He went up to the Head Boy Suite and found Ron sitting in an armchair, his face still red.

"All right there, mate?" Harry asked, flopping into the chair across from Ron’s.

"Never better," Ron said sarcastically.   "Why’d you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make her so sexy?"

"I didn’t.   I just turned her into a baboon," Harry said reasonably.   "She’s a girl, so she became a female baboon.   I guess you just found her attractive."

"Damned right I did," Ron said, his face still a bit red.

"Are you OK?" Harry asked, concerned.

Ron sighed.   "Yeah, I’m fine.   I was just. . .well. . .erm. . .I’m fine now," he said with a shrug.

"I’m sorry.   I honestly didn’t know there would be a problem."

"It’s OK, Harry, really.   Lesson learned, right?" Ron replied, trying to be philosophical about it, but then he sighed.   "You do know Ginny will never let me live this down?   She’s too much like the twins to let something like this go."

Harry did his best to stifle a grin.   He knew Ron was right about how the twins would treat such an experience, and that Ginny was far too much like them in many ways, but he trusted her to be kind to her brother.   "I’ll speak to her, all right?   I think she’ll leave you alone about it."

"No, she won’t," Ron grumbled.

"Look, mate, it was funny!   Nothing happened except for all four of us being embarrassed at what was about to happen!   So we may laugh about it on occasion, but we’re laughing at the baboons, not you, Ron."   Harry looked hopefully at his friend.   "It really was funny, you know."

"I suppose."

"Tell you what. You can turn both me and Ginny into baboons if she gives you a hard time, and then you’ll be able to laugh at us.   How’s that?" Harry said, feeling quite charitable about his own willingness to be a laughingstock among his friends.

"You’d do that?" Ron said in amazement.

"Yeah, for you, I would," Harry said seriously.   "And I’ll tell Ginny that, as well."

Ron finally sat back and smiled.   "Yeah.   That should take care of it.   She won’t want to be embarrassed that way.   Thanks!"

"Right, then!" Harry said, standing up and leaning over to clap his friend on the knee.   "Let’s go.   We’re going to do smaller animals now — and one at a time!"

"You’re on!" Ron said, getting to his feet and following Harry down the spiral staircase.

When they got to the Common Room, both girls looked at Ron, Hermione in concern, Ginny with laughter in her eyes as well as concern.   Harry took Ginny aside and had a little talk with her, after which she still had laughter bubbling below the surface of her every word, but she managed to contain it admirably.

"OK, so small animals.   What shall we try?" Hermione said, looking from Ron to Harry.

"I wished I could be a frog for the Second Task of the Tournament," Harry said amiably.   "Why don’t you turn me into a frog?"

"All right," Hermione said, "if you’re sure?"

"My fate is in your hands," he said, sitting back and spreading his hands as he spoke.   "Do remind Ginny to kiss me to turn me back into a handsome prince, though, if I get stuck?   Please?"

"I heard that!" Ginny said from the table where she was hard at work again studying with other Sixth Years.   "I’ll remember."

"Good enough for me," Harry said. "Fire away!"

Hermione did the incantation and turned him into a handsome green frog.   She lifted him from his chair and put him on the table, where he hopped around, climbing on their books, dropping into Ron’s lap at one point when he slipped on a piece of parchment.

"Watch it there, Harry," Ron chortled, then set him carefully back on the table.

"Where’d you get the frog?" Neville asked as he passed by.   "He’s a beaut!"

"It’s Harry.   I transfigured him," Hermione explained.

"Well done!" Neville said, then started to move on.

"Neville! Wait!" Hermione said suddenly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Where’s Trevor?"

"Right here," he said, pulling his toad from his pocket.   "Why?"

"It would be fun to see if Harry can talk to him, since Harry’s a frog," Hermione said.

"Yeah, Neville!" Ron said enthusiastically.   "Bang him on the table next to Harry."

Neville smiled and set Trevor in front of the frog that was Harry, so the two were face to face.   The frog croaked at Trevor and tilted its head as if waiting for a reply.   Trevor croaked in reply and soon a regular "conversation" was going on between them.

"Wow!" Neville said. "What do you suppose they’re saying?"

"We’ll find out when we change Harry back," Ron said confidently.

After a while, the frog and toad quieted, the frog looking expectantly at Hermione, the toad looking much less listless than it normally did.   Moments later, Harry was sitting in the middle of the table, his long legs knocking over Hermione’s ink bottle when they appeared.

"Sorry!" he said, scrambling to get off the table without making further messes.

"It’s OK," she said, cleaning up the mess with a wave of her wand.   "My fault.   I should have put you in your chair first.   How was it being a frog?"

"Not as much fun as the baboon," Harry admitted, "but interesting in its own way."

"What did Trevor say?" Neville asked eagerly.

"Let’s take Trevor and go up to Ron’s suite," Harry said, putting his hand on Neville’s shoulder and looking seriously into his eyes.   "We need to talk."

"Huh?" Neville asked, shocked.

"What’s up?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Just come with me," Harry said, picking up Trevor very gently and handing him to Neville.   "Come on, let’s go.   Leave that stuff, we won’t be that long," he told Hermione, who’d started to pack up her books.

In Ron’s suite, Ron and Hermione shared one large squashy armchair and Neville sat in the other while Harry paced.  

"How long have you had Trevor?" Harry asked Neville.

"My Great Uncle Algie gave him to me just before I came to Hogwarts."

"Where did he get him?" Harry asked.

"He bought him somewhere," Neville said with a shrug.   "Why?"

"Neville, I don’t know how to say this except straight out.   Trevor isn’t a toad.   He’s a wizard," Harry said, watching Neville’s face closely.

"What?" Neville said in shock, studying Harry’s face carefully.   "Why are you saying that?"

"When I was a frog, Trevor and I talked," Harry said seriously.   "You saw that, right?"   Neville nodded.   "He told me he’s a wizard.   He made a witch absolutely furious with him and she put him under an enchantment.   He’s been stuck this way ever since."

"You’re kidding!" Hermione said, a surprised laugh bursting out of her.

"No, I’m not," Harry said, turning to look at her.   She looked into his eyes, which were a troubled, turbulent green and not laughing at all.   "Some witch turned him into a toad and tossed him into a pond.   He’d been there for years and years before somebody caught him and took him to wherever Neville’s great-uncle bought him.   All those times he escaped here at school?   He was trying to find some way to get changed back."   He turned back to Neville.   "When we first got here, and you couldn’t find him, and he showed up at McGonagall’s feet?   He knew she was the Transfiguration teacher.   Maybe he went to Hogwarts too, I don’t know.   He’s been trying to get her attention ever since he got here, hoping she could change him back."

"He’s been turned into all kinds of things," Hermione said in horror.   "Snape even made him a tadpole once!"

"That’s true," Ron added.   "So why didn’t any of those spells make him a wizard?"

"Because none of them were supposed to make him a wizard," Harry said reasonably.    "One of us should try this spell on Trevor, Neville, to see if we can turn him back into a wizard.   All right?"

"Uh. . .yeah, I guess," Neville said, still in shock over this revelation.   "You do it, Harry, or Hermione. You two are the best at this spell.   I’m still hopeless at it."

"OK," Harry said, taking Trevor out of Neville’s trembling hands and setting him on the floor.   Harry stood back and did the reversal incantation and proper wand movement, but nothing happened.

"Nothing happened," Ron said helpfully.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.   "Now what?"

"In fairy tales," Hermione offered quietly, "a frog can be kissed to turn him into a handsome prince."

Harry smiled.   "D’you suppose Trevor is a handsome prince?"

"I don’t know," she replied.

"Want to kiss him and find out?" Ron said, snorting with laughter.

"Luna used to kiss him all the time," Neville said quietly.   "Nothing happened."

"There goes that theory," Harry said with a shrug.   "I think this is beyond us.   Let’s take him to McGonagall.   That’s where he wants to go anyway."

"OK, let’s go," Hermione said decisively, and the three boys followed her willingly enough through the Common Room to the portrait hole.  

Ginny saw the determined-looking group leaving and followed them, having to jog to keep them in sight once they got into the corridor.  

"What’s up?" she asked Harry when she caught up with them.  

He told her briefly what was going on.  

"You’re kidding!"

"Nope," he said.   "We’re going to see if McGonagall can change him back."

The five friends soon stood outside Professor McGonagall’s quarters, Trevor trembling in Neville’s hands.   Hermione knocked on the door.

"Yes?" Professor McGonagall said as she opened the door.   She was wearing a tartan dressing gown, a hairbrush in her hand, her long black hair in loose waves around her shoulders.   It was a shocking sight to students used to seeing her with her hair in a bun so tight it pulled her eyes into a slightly almond shape.

"Professor, we’re sorry to disturb you, but we have a problem," Hermione began as they followed her into her sitting room.   "Well, Harry should explain.   He’s the one who talked to Trevor."

"Trevor?" the professor said, confused.

Neville held his toad out toward her nervously.   Trevor struggled in his hands, trying to get to the professor.   "Harry says he’s not a toad.   Harry says he’s a. . .a wizard," Neville said uneasily.

"What?" she said in disbelief.   "Potter, I expect better of you than to tease Longbottom this way."

"I’m not teasing," Harry said seriously.   "Hermione turned me into a frog and Neville walked by and Ron told him to bang Trevor on the table next to me so we could talk. . .and then we did."

"You did what?"

"We talked."   Harry went on to tell her all he’d learned from Trevor.   "I tried to change him back into a wizard using the Human-to-Animal Transfiguration Reversal Spell, but nothing happened.   Nothing at all.   We don’t know what to do.   Trevor told me he’s been trying to get to you all these years, all the time he’s been at Hogwarts.   He thinks you can help him.   I think he may be an old student of yours.   He knew you taught Transfiguration when he got here."   The students sat watching their professor expectantly.

"Well," she said, thinking hard.   "I should speak to him myself to see if I can find out what kind of spell he’s under.   Miss Granger, could you please change me into a frog?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, taking out her wand.

"Wait!" the professor said.   She looked at Hermione beadily.   "Has your reversal spell worked every time?"

"Yes, Professor, and Harry’s has, as well," Hermione assured her.   "He’s been doing this transfiguration longer than I have.   Perhaps you’d prefer he do it?"

Professor McGonagall looked at her two best Transfiguration students, Hermione and Harry.   "Just be certain to change me back," she said finally.

"All right," Hermione said, then looked at Harry.   "You do it.   You have a lot more experience at this than I do."

"OK," he said, then turned to his professor.   "Would you prefer to be a frog or a toad?" he asked, an impish grin on his face.

"Either.   Just get on with it, Potter!" McGonagall said tartly.  

A moment later, she was a very handsome toad, similar to Trevor.   The two began croaking at each other immediately.   After several long minutes, the toad that was McGonagall turned to face Harry again.   He changed her back into herself and she sat down in her easy chair, a look of relief on her face.

"Are you all right, professor?" Ginny asked in concern.

"I’ll be fine," she said with a shudder.   "I haven’t allowed anyone else to transfigure me in decades.   It’s a bit unnerving."

"Did I do something wrong?" Harry asked worriedly.

"No, no, Potter, you did very well.   Full marks," she said distractedly.   "Ten points to Gryffindor.   Or maybe I should make that twenty."   She sat rubbing her forehead for a while.

"Would you like some tea?" Ron asked hesitantly, looking around to see where her teapot was.

"Yes, actually, that would be lovely," she agreed, then waved her wand and a tea tray appeared, complete with six cups and a pile of cakes and biscuits.   "Help yourselves," she offered as she poured herself a cup.   "Sit down, sit down," she added to the still-standing students.

As the students sad down and drank their tea, the room stayed silent except for the sound of sipped tea and the occasional crunch of a biscuit being bitten into.   Finally, McGonagall broke the silence.

"Trevor is a wizard who was put under a spell by a witch he. . .betrayed, shall we say, many years ago."

"Is he a Dark wizard?" Ginny asked quickly.

"Oh, no, Miss Weasley, nothing like that.   He was just stupid," she said in disgust.   Trevor croaked in protest.   "Well, you were, you know," McGonagall told the toad tartly.

"What happened?" Neville asked nervously.

"It seems he was a married man, and he. . .well. . .he decided he needed a girlfriend as well as a wife," she said reluctantly.   "His wife turned him into a toad when she found out."

"What did she do to the girlfriend?" Ron asked.

"She turned her into wild oats, since her husband had been sowing them with her," McGonagall said in disgust.

"She turned a witch into oats?   I didn’t know you could turn people into plants," Neville said, suddenly interested.

"She was a Muggle, which doubly insulted the witch who did this," McGonagall snapped.   "The witch who put this spell on your toad and that poor Muggle woman is a very powerful one. We should talk to the headmaster before we do anything else."

The entire group was soon seated in Dumbledore’s office, telling him the whole story.

"Indeed?   How fascinating!" he said, studying Trevor with interest.   "Trevor, have you learned your lesson?" he said, smiling at the toad, which gave a long, sad croak in reply.   "Right, then.   Minerva, what have you tried?"

"Nothing yet.   I was concerned about raising the ire of the witch who enchanted him against these students if we reversed her spell."

"How long ago did all of this happen?"

"About forty years ago," McGonagall replied, "if I understood him correctly."

"Does he know if she’s still alive?"   Dumbledore asked.

"He says she is.   I don’t know how he knows."

"Do we know who she is?" Dumbledore asked.

"I didn’t ask him.   I think it would be hard to translate her name from toad language to ours anyway.   I wasn’t able to understand him when he tried to tell me his name.   Our communication was a bit broken, at best."

"I didn’t have any trouble understanding him," Harry said, perplexed.

"You’re studying Mermish now, aren’t you, Harry?" Dumbledore said with a benign smile.

"Yes."

"Perhaps there’s some crossover between Mermish and toad language," Dumbledore suggested.   "Why don’t we turn you into a toad and let you ask him the name of the witch and whether there might be reprisals against any of us for changing him back into a wizard."

Harry was quickly turned into a toad and began conversing with Trevor.   After a few minutes, he turned back to Dumbledore and stared at him.

"Are you quite finished?" Dumbledore asked.   Harry croaked at him.   Dumbledore looked around the room.   "Can anyone think of anything else we should ask him?   No one?   All right then."   He changed Harry back into himself and looked at the young man expectantly.   "What did you learn?"

Harry looked anxiously at Neville.   "I don’t know how to tell you this, mate," he said uneasily.

"What?" Neville replied, tilting his head and studying Harry’s face.   "What did he say?"

Harry gulped.   "Uh. . .his name is Rupert. . .Rupert Longbottom.   The witch who transfigured him is your gran, Neville.   He’s your grandfather."

"WHAT?"   Neville was white with shock.

Dumbledore conjured a tea tray and poured a cup for Neville, adding a drop of potion to it before handing it over.   "I’ve added a wee dose of the Draught of Peace to help you calm yourself, Mr. Longbottom," he said as Neville took the cup and saucer in shaking hands.

Dumbledore turned back to Harry.   "You’re certain of this?"

"Yes."   Harry’s eyes were wide.   He watched Neville nervously.   Harry didn’t know how he would react to such news.   It certainly seemed to be disconcerting to poor Neville.   "I’m sorry, Neville."

"Not your fault," Neville said stiffly, calmer now but still trembling.   "I don’t understand."

"Understand what, Mr. Longbottom?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"She said he was dead.   Why would she say that?"     He turned sad, confused eyes to his headmaster.   "Why?"

"She was very angry with him, apparently," Dumbledore said.   He looked at Professor McGonagall.   "If Mrs. Longbottom is the witch we have to worry about, I suppose we’re safe.   She’s a powerful witch, but I don’t believe she’d take her anger out on any of these students."

Minerva laughed, a short, bitter sound.   "And what about us, Albus?" she said with half a smile.

"I believe we can handle her," he assured her.   She nodded.   "Did he tell you what type of spell it was?"

"I didn’t understand him well enough on some things — that was one of them," she said regretfully.  

"Did he tell you about the spell, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.   Harry shook his head.   "Right then," the old wizard said, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.   He looked around at the gathered students.   "What you are about to see must not leave this room, understood?   Neither what I’m going to do, nor the spell itself.   I trust you lot, or I’d make you leave the room."   They all nodded solemnly, then all but Harry and McGonagall gasped as Dumbledore changed into quite a handsome frog.

"I didn’t know he could do that," Hermione breathed.   "He’s registered as a bumblebee Animagus."

"You’d be amazed at what he can do," Harry murmured.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said warningly.

Harry looked up at her and smiled innocently.   "What?"

She arched a dark eyebrow at him over her square spectacles, which was reprimand enough.

"I wasn’t going to say anything else, you know," he said in his own defence.

Meanwhile, the frog and toad were conversing like old friends.   After a while, Dumbledore changed back into himself, a smile on his face.   "Oh yes, he’s learned his lesson.   He won’t give anyone any trouble.   He just wants to be able to live the rest of his days as a human."   He stood and went to one of his bookcases, running a long finger along the spines until he found the title he was seeking.   "Yes, I think this will do admirably."   He carried the book to his desk and sat it next to the toad, still studying the text as he sat down.   "Yes, yes," he muttered as he read.   "Ummm.   Yes."  

Finally, he looked at the toad.   "Are you ready, Rupert?"   The toad croaked.   "Let’s put you in a chair so you’ll be comfortable when you return," Dumbledore said considerately, then conjured a chair beside him and set the toad in its seat.   He mumbled a long incantation, waving his wand in an intricate pattern and suddenly, a wizened old wizard sat in the chair next to him in filthy, shabby robes forty years out of style.  

"Oh, my!" the man croaked, his voice scratchy and crackly from disuse.   "Thank you!"   He stretched his arms and legs, worked the kinks out of his back, and ran his hands through his long white hair and beard.   "Gracious, my hair was black!   Look at me now!   I must look like my granddad!"   He looked at the shocked faces around him.   "I cannot thank you enough.   I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.   I will never forget it," he said, looking seriously into each face in turn, ending with Neville.   "And you, my dear, dear boy.   You have taken such good care of me.   Thank you for that."

"OK," Neville said in a small voice.

"We have a bit of catching up to do, you and I," the old man said, smiling at the nervous young man, who nodded timidly in return.

"Mr. Longbottom, we have guest rooms in the castle where you are welcome to stay for a few days, so you and Neville can chat.   Then we’ll have to sort out how to get you on your feet back in the human world again," Dumbledore said kindly.   "Would you like me to owl your wife?"

"My wife?" the man said, looking at Dumbledore in amazement.   "I suppose she still is.   She never remarried."   He shook his head.   "I don’t know what I was thinking.   I loved my wife.   I just. . ."

"There are young people present, sir," McGonagall warned him, her tone dripping acid.   "Please restrict your comments accordingly."

"Ah yes.   Well."   The man picked at his robes nervously.   "You’re quite right, of course.   I have a lot to think about, plans to make, things to do. . . ."

"I’m sure you do," Dumbledore said smoothly.   "I’ll take you to our guest rooms, where you and Neville can chat."   He rose and escorted the group to the spiral staircase.   "Thank you, Harry, Hermione, for bringing this to our attention.   You’ve done the Longbottom family a great service this evening, I believe.   Thank you, as well, Minerva.   Now, I believe you lot have homework to finish?" he said, prodding the teenagers toward Gryffindor Tower, while leading Rupert and Neville Longbottom the opposite direction.   "You’ll see Neville later.   He deserves some time to talk with his grandfather."

"Wicked!" Ron said, shaking his head as they walked away.   "Trevor was Neville’s grandfather!   Who would have thought?"

"I’ll bet he has some interesting stories to tell," Hermione said, her eyes glowing.   "Can you imagine spending so much time as an animal?"

"Uh, Hermione?" Harry said quietly.   "Toads eat ants, frogs, flies, worms, yucky stuff like that.   They spend most of their time trying to find food.   They hibernate in the winter.   I don’t think he’s going to have a lot of fascinating things to tell you, quite honestly."

She deflated a bit, but then brightened again.   "Maybe not.   But you do!   I’m going to want all the details, Harry.   What a great story this will make!"

"Story for what?" Harry asked, horrified.   "Not the paper again?"

"No.   I have something else in mind," she said mysteriously, but then wouldn’t say anything else, deflecting all of his questions with comments about all the homework they had to finish that evening.

"Hermione, if I see this story in the paper or a magazine. . ." Harry said, getting a bit annoyed.

She hastened to assure him.   "Don’t worry.   I wouldn’t do that to you.   But it would make an interesting story, wouldn’t it?" she said wistfully.

"Yeah," he agreed.

* * * * *

The next morning, Harry and Ron had awakened and dressed early and now sat together bouncing quietly on Ron’s bed, waiting for Neville to wake up.  

Dean noticed the expectant looks on their faces and the fact that they were sitting close together and whispering before they noticed he’d got up.   They stopped whispering and smiled brightly at him when he emerged from his curtained bed.

"Good morning!" Harry said brightly.   "How are you this morning, Dean?"

"Sleep well?" Ron asked, equally solicitous.

"Yeah," Dean said, knowing they were up to something.   "What are you two up to this time?"

"Us?" Ron said innocently.   "We’re not up to anything, are we, Harry?"

"Nope, nothing at all," Harry agreed cheerfully.   "We’re just in a silly mood."

Dean just shook his head. They were obviously conspiring about something again.   Harry and Ron were always up to something, and Dean was used to it by now.   At least they didn’t play as many pranks as the Weasley twins had during their stay at Hogwarts.   "See you later," Dean said, then left them to it.   They never played any tricks on him, so he knew he was safe.   Whatever it was, he’d find out about it when it happened, and that was all right with him.   He had girls to meet up with, which was a much higher priority to him than worrying about any Potter/Weasley conspiracies.

When Neville finally parted his curtains and poked his sleep-tousled head out, they both smiled at him expectantly.

"Well?" Ron prompted excitedly.   "What’s he like?

"Huh?" Neville said muzzily, rubbing his eyes.

"When did you get to bed, mate?" Harry said sympathetically.   He’d had a lot of sleepless nights and recognized the look on Neville’s face.

"Late.   After two, I think," Neville said, finally straightening to his full height, the bones in his back cracking as he stretched the kinks out.

"How was it?" Ron urged.   "Getting to know your granddad.   What’s he like?"

Neville shook his head, shoved his curtains open wide and sat back down on his bed.   He scratched his head, making his hair stand up nearly as wildly as Harry’s did when it was shorter.   He sat with his head bowed, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his pyjama bottoms, lost in thought, his face quite serious.

Harry leaned toward him.   "What’s wrong, Neville?" he asked quietly.

"It’s just so weird, you know?" the other boy replied uneasily, glancing up at his friends a moment before going back to picking at that thread.

"Yeah, it’s weird, all right," Ron agreed.     "Is he nice?   What did you talk about?"

"Maybe Neville doesn’t want to share it," Harry said abruptly.   "Let’s go on down to breakfast."

"No, that’s all right," Neville replied.   "If it wasn’t for you, Harry, I wouldn’t know about him.   You have a right to know.   I owe you that."

"No, you don’t owe me that or anything else," Harry said firmly.   "We were being nosy, and that’s not fair.   We’ll see you later.   Do you want us to bring you some breakfast?"

"No, don’t go," Neville pleaded.   "I. . .it’s hard for me to make sense of it all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry said gently.   "We don’t want to be a bother."

"You’re no bother," Neville said, smiling a bit as he glanced at his two friends.   "Well. . .he told me what happened.   He’s sorry for what he did.   He and my gran loved each other, he said, but then he saw this beautiful woman. . . .   The way he talked about her, she could have been part-Veela, but he says she was a Muggle."

"Maybe she was part-Veela but was a squib?" Ron offered.

"Maybe.   I suppose that would explain it," Neville said with a shrug.   "He lived in a pond for years, not that far from our house, actually.   He thought about trying to get the attention of the wizards who came to collect frogs and toads from time to time, but he knew that a lot of toad parts go into potions, so he was afraid to get caught."   Neville snorted, a nearly humourless laugh.   "Someone finally caught him, but he sold him to a pet shop rather than using him in a potion.   He recognized Great Uncle Algie when he came in the shop and tried to get his attention.   That’s why Uncle Algie bought him, because he’d never seen a toad that could do tricks.   Trev. . .Rupert. . .my granddad. . .I don’t know what to call him yet. . .he said he sprained his back trying to do back flips to get Uncle Algie’s attention."

"Wow.   I’d buy a toad that did back flips," Ron said with a grin.   "Sounds pretty cool.   That was a good idea he had."

"Yeah," Harry said encouragingly.   "He was pretty smart to do that."

"Yeah," Neville said, finally beginning to relax a bit.  "He hoped Uncle Algie would take him somewhere Gran would see him.   She certainly saw him enough once I got him, but she never wanted to look at Trevor, so she never looked closely.   I suppose if she had, she might have recognized him."   He was quiet a moment, then smiled and went on.   "My granddad was a botanist.   He’s where I get my interest in Herbology.   He did research on medicinal herbs and was trying to hybridize some plants to have one herb have the healing power of two or more when he met that Muggle woman and my gran. . .well, you know."

"That’s great, Neville," Harry said sincerely. "It’s nice that you found out where you get your talents and interests."   I envy you, Neville, he thought sadly.   I wish I could talk to my grandparents and find out how I turned out as I have, but I know such a thing will never happen.   You don’t know how lucky you are.

"Yeah," Neville replied with a shy smile.   "He said I’m a lot like he was when he was a kid."   He sighed before going on.   "He told me he’s quite upset about what happened to my parents.   Every time I visited the hospital, he’d hide for a while after we got back.   I didn’t know why.   He told me it was because he was miserable that such a horrible thing happened to them."

"That’s understandable," Ron said.

"Oh, and he knew McGonagall was the Transfiguration teacher because she taught my dad.   Trev. . .Rupert," he shook his head in frustration, "my grandfather had Dumbledore as his Transfiguration teacher."

"Cool," Harry said.   "Dumbledore’s a great teacher.   Your grandfather must have enjoyed having him.   Did he and Dumbledore recognize each other when Dumbledore turned into a frog and talked with him?"

"I don’t know, I didn’t ask him," Neville said with a sad little shrug.   "We spent most of our time talking about my gran and all that."

"Does he have any plans now?   What’s he going to do next?" Harry asked, hoping to get the conversation on a more cheerful note.

"Professor Dumbledore owled my gran last night.   Late last night, he came to, um, Rupert’s quarters while we were still talking, and told us that Gran is coming today to see him.   He said she didn’t sound happy."   Neville looked miserable.

"Is she angry that someone reversed the spell?" Harry said carefully.

"Oh, yeah!   And she’s simply furious that he’s still alive.   She’d hoped he would have been eaten by an owl by now, she said."   Neville hung his head.

"Are you going to see her when she comes?" Ron asked.

"I don’t know.   Professor Dumbledore told us he’d stay with them until he was certain she wouldn’t hex Rupert — my granddad — again.   If they can get along at all, he’ll have me come and visit them."

"Whoa.   That’s heavy," Ron said, impressed with all the amazing things suddenly happening in Neville’s life.

All three boys were quiet for several minutes.   Then Harry spoke.   "So, Neville?   You want to go to breakfast with us?"

Neville took his time answering.   "OK."

"And Neville?" Harry added.

The other boy looked up at him.   "Yeah?"

"If you want to talk to us about this, fine.   If you don’t want to talk to us about it, that’s fine too.   No pressure.   OK?"

A slow smile spread across Neville’s face.   "Yeah.   Thanks, Harry.   I don’t really want everyone else to know about this just yet.   If anyone asks, Trevor’s just lost again, OK?"

Harry smiled at his friend.   "Of course!"

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Author Notes:

"Abeo vir tenus bestia" literally is Latin for "Change man to animal" - I got it word for word from an online English/Latin dictionary. I've never taken Latin, so there's no way I can conjugate the verbs properly, so if you think I've made an error here, sorry, it's the best I can do! When I mention Trevor the toad at McGonagall's feet when Neville first arrives at Hogwarts - that's a scene from the film ("HP and the SS"), not the books, but it works well here, so I used it. Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my betas, Starfox, Blakevich, Iris and Asad!