The Refiner's Fire
Chapter 14 - Transfiguration
By Abraxan
Two days later, Harry was awakened by the feeling of someone breathing in his face. He opened his eyes to see the large green eyes of Dobby the house-elf hovering above him. They were nearly nose to nose.
"Mr. Harry Potter, sir! You is awake at last!" Dobby cried, ecstatic. "Dobby has been hoping and hoping you would wake up soon. Dobby has been so worried about you, sir!"
Harry squinted at the house-elf, pushing his head farther into his pillow to try to see him in focus, and tried to smile. Dobby backed away a little, then got right back in Harry’s face.
"Is you hungry, Harry Potter? Madam Pomfrey asked me to bring soup for you. Dobby has twelve kinds of soup ready for Harry Potter. Dobby didn’t know what Harry Potter would like to eat when he’s been p-p-poisoned." The house-elf gasped and clapped his hands over his mouth as he finished speaking. His eyes were huge.
Harry managed a wan smile at Dobby. "Thanks," he murmured.
Ron stepped inside the screens. "Hey, you’re awake!"
"Barely," Harry grumbled in a whisper as his hand fumbled around on the table by his bed. "Where are my glasses?"
"Oh, sorry," Ron said, picking up Harry’s glasses off the table and handing them to his friend. "Here."
Harry put his glasses on and tried to sit up in bed, but not too successfully. Ron hurried to help him.
"Hang on, take it easy," Ron said. "I’ve got you." He slid his arm behind Harry’s shoulders and lifted him, then plumped up the pillows behind him before laying Harry back against them. "Better?"
"Ginny’s been teaching you how to be a healer, then?" Harry joked hoarsely. His attempt at a laugh ended in a coughing fit. "Owww."
"Sorry, mate. Here, you need to drink some water. Madam Pomfrey said you have to drink loads of fluids. That’s why Dobby’s here with all these soups."
Harry drank from the goblet Ron held for him, and looked at Dobby again. "What kind of soup did you bring, Dobby? I am a bit hungry."
"So you should be!" said the ever-hungry Ron. "You haven’t had any food at all for a couple of days."
Dobby brought over a tray with bowls full of soups of various colours and fragrances, which made Harry suddenly ravenous. "Madam Pomfrey said chicken broth first, then whatever you want, Harry Potter," Dobby said with a little bow as he offered the soups.
"Sounds good to me," Harry agreed in a hoarse whisper. Ron and Dobby made rather a mess of trying to help Harry eat, but they were all enjoying the effort. After they’d fed Harry as much soup as he could manage, Dobby cleaned everything up with a wave of his hand and prepared to leave.
"Dobby, thanks a lot," Harry said, sounding a bit stronger now. "It was great having so many choices. That pumpkin soup, in particular, was just ace."
"That one is Dobby’s specialty, Harry Potter!" Dobby said happily. "I is glad you is liking it. If you wants anything else, you send for Dobby!"
"I will. Thanks," Harry replied, smiling at the elf’s obvious delight in pleasing him.
After Dobby left, Ron helped Harry get more comfortable in the bed, then sat in the chair beside it. "Feeling better today, eh?" Ron said.
"Yeah."
"That’s good. Dobby’s been up here several times a day bringing things for you to eat, but you haven’t been awake, and Madam Pomfrey said your stomach couldn’t manage food yet anyway. Hermione, Ginny and I have been eating it — Dobby’s brought the very best Hogwarts has to offer, fabulous stuff! It took Madam Pomfrey a while to convince him you would only be able to eat soup once you could eat again."
"Has she said when she’ll let me out?"
"Nah. You’ve been pretty sick. Now that you’re eating again, it shouldn’t be too long, though," Ron said bracingly.
"Hope you’re right," Harry replied sincerely. He rested quietly a moment, then turned to Ron again and asked, "What did they do with Millicent?"
"She said she was under Imperius, so there wasn’t anything they could do or anyone to arrest for it. They know she got the Polyjuice Potion and the poison from someone else, but they don’t know who. They couldn’t find out more, even with Veritaserum, because she’s been Memory Charmed. Dumbledore was reluctant to use the Veritaserum. He said he’s never used it on a student before and really didn’t think it was right to do so, but since you’ve been attacked by students twice now, he thought it was necessary to try it." Ron sighed. "It’s just not fair that she should get off, any more than Malfoy should, but they’re not getting any punishment beyond losing house points."
"That stinks."
"Too right it does."
Hermione came through the screens, burdened with books, as usual. "Oh, you’re awake! That’s wonderful! Feeling better?"
"Yeah," Harry replied with a smile.
"I brought your homework. Do you feel up to working on it?" she offered.
"I’ve missed so many classes, I don’t know how I’ll ever catch up," he grumbled feebly.
"Well, if you feel strong enough, we can start catching up now," Hermione said brightly, spreading books, parchment, ink bottles and quills on the table by his bed. "I think you’ll enjoy what we’re doing in Transfiguration," she commented as she pulled out a small wicker crate that had tiny mewling noises coming out of it. "I brought one of the animals we’ve been working with for you to practice on. Professor McGonagall said I could teach you this spell." Hermione was clearly delighted at the trust the professor had expressed in her abilities.
"So what are we doing?"
"This is a mammal to mammal transfiguration, a preparation for the Animagus transfiguration. She’s going to start talking about that in a few days. What we’re doing here is turning a kitten into a monkey, and then back again." She pulled out a small black kitten with green eyes. "Isn’t he cute?"
Harry scratched the kitten behind its ears, making the little cat purr loudly. "Shame we have to turn him into a monkey," he commented as he stroked the cat. He looked up at Hermione. "What kind of monkey is it supposed to be?"
"That’s a good question. Most people concentrated on the transformation itself rather than the right type of monkey. Since they didn’t have the monkey’s details in mind, they made an awful mess of things. It should be a spider monkey, those sweet little ones with white around their faces. Here’s a picture of one so you can get it in your mind."
"How’d you get on with this, Ron?" Harry asked as he looked from the picture to the kitten and back to the picture again.
"My monkey had a cat’s head and body and monkey legs and tail," Ron said with a disgusted look on his face. "It was awful. I never did get it right."
"We’re all going to practice with this kitten," Hermione said. "We’ll show Harry how to do it and we’ll take turns until we’re really good at it. I’d love for all of us to be able to be Animagi!" She handed Harry his wand. "What you do is, think very clearly of the animal you want it to become, then tap it three times with your wand."
"What’s the incantation?"
"There isn’t one. When an Animagus is in animal form and wants to become human again, he can’t say an incantation. This spell is practice for that kind of transfiguration, so it’s done the same way."
"If you’re an animal, you can’t tap yourself with a wand three times either," Harry said reasonably.
"Once you get proficient at this, it’s wandless magic," Hermione explained. "You should be really good at this, Harry."
After several tries, Harry managed to get the kitten to change its colouring to that of the spider monkey, but that was all. He threw his wand down in frustration. "I’m not getting anywhere with this," he muttered.
"Try turning his paw into a monkey hand — just that much. Start small," Hermione suggested.
"Let me see you do it," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t feel well, had tons of homework to do and this spell just seemed to be beyond him. He was getting grumpier by the minute.
"OK," Hermione said, then tapped the kitten three times with her wand and a spider monkey sat where the kitten had just been.
"Whoa, Hermione, that’s cool," Harry said, impressed with how easy she made it look. "OK, I’ll try it again."
"Just a paw at first, Harry," Hermione reminded him.
"’K." He concentrated hard, looking at one of the monkey’s delicate hands. One, two, three taps of the wand and suddenly the monkey had a black cat’s paw where its hand had been. "Wow, I did it!" He chuckled at the quizzical expression on the monkey’s face as it examined its new paw.
"That’s great! Now try to do more of it. Little steps at first," Hermione encouraged him.
"That’s a lot faster than I managed," Ron grumbled.
"You want a go?" Harry offered.
"No, you go ahead and work on it. I’m doing my essay for Snape," Ron replied with a heavy sigh. He turned back to his parchment, but kept watching Harry’s progress out of the corner of his eye.
Three more tries and suddenly Harry had a kitten where the monkey had been. "I think I liked the kitten too much and didn’t really want to turn him into a monkey," he said, smiling at the happily purring little cat.
"That could be," Hermione agreed. "Can you turn him into a monkey now? Concentrate!"
A monkey sat in Harry’s lap where the kitten had been. "Fantastic! Well done, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Cool," Harry said as he turned the monkey back into the black kitten. He slid down in his bed, still holding the kitten. "What a cute little guy," he murmured sleepily as he cuddled the kitten and tried to get comfortable in his bed.
"I think we’ve worn you out, haven’t we?" Hermione said, helping Harry get his pillows rearranged.
"Yeah. But this transfiguration was just amazing, Hermione. You’re a good teacher. Thanks," he said with a smile, giving the kitten a last pat as Hermione took it from him.
"OK, Ron, your turn," she said, handing him the kitten. Laughter rang through the hospital wing as Ron attempted to change the kitten into a monkey. Some of the transfigurations he came up with were amazingly bad, but finally he, too, had it. By the time he got it, Harry had fallen asleep, so Ron and Hermione kept their celebration to a quiet kiss.
"He’s right, you know," Ron assured her as they stood in a warm embrace, his chin resting on top of her curly hair.
"About what?" she said, pulling back to look up at him.
"You are a really good teacher — and you’re lots prettier than anyone on staff here. I’ll bet the boys in class would pay lots more attention if you were teaching."
Hermione blushed in pleasure at the compliment, then said, "Yeah, I’ve been thinking about being a teacher. I think I’d like to do some other things first, then maybe come back to Hogwarts and teach," Hermione mused as she gave Ron another kiss, then turned to put the kitten back in the wicker basket.
* * * * *
A few days later, Madam Pomfrey thought Harry was strong enough to be let go. She made him wait until mid-morning before he could go so she could make sure he ate enough porridge and got another dose of his pain potion. Ron had brought his robes and books to the hospital wing before breakfast. Now, Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed, already dressed and eager to leave when Ginny arrived to take Remus’s place sitting with Harry.
"Oh! She’s really going to let you out?" Ginny exclaimed, her face alight with excitement. "Ron said he thought you’d get out today, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up."
"Yeah," Harry replied, grinning. "I’m a free man at last! Madam Pomfrey says I have to eat only soup or porridge the next two days, but other than that, I’m fine."
Remus picked up the homework he’d been marking and smiled at Harry. "It will be good to have you back in class," he said. "And Ginny — I appreciate you being here to walk Harry to his class, as I don’t have time to take him myself. I suspect he won’t be able to stride down the hall with his usual energy yet, so take your time"
"Don’t worry," Ginny replied. She and Harry smiled at each other. "I’ll look after him."
Remus smiled, a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, I’m sure you will," he said. "Take care of yourself, Harry. I’ll see you later."
"See you, Remus," Harry replied, then looked at Ginny. "He says you’re doing really well in class."
"That’s all down to you, Harry," she said modestly. "The D.A. meetings, and sitting here with you explaining things to me — well, when you’ve been able to, anyway — I’ve learned a lot."
Harry blushed a little, then said, "Ready to get out of here? I am!"
"Absolutely!" They picked up their bags and walked out of the hospital wing and headed toward Harry’s first class, Transfiguration. The corridors were empty, with most of the students well into their first morning classes. As they crossed the entrance hall, Harry looked wistfully at the main doors to the castle.
"Let’s go outside," he said suddenly. "We’ve still got a little while before my next class. It’s been absolutely ages since I’ve seen the sun or smelled fresh air." They went out and sat on the front steps of the castle. It was a beautiful morning. After several days of rain, the sun shone brilliantly in a clear blue sky, and the air smelled of damp earth and fresh cut grass. Harry breathed deeply, a contented smile on his face. "I’ve missed this," he said simply.
"Sitting on the steps smelling the air?" she teased.
"Being anywhere there’s fresh air and sunshine," he replied, looking fondly around the grounds. The giant squid was sunning its tentacles, waving them gently above the surface of the lake. The trees were robed in scarlet, gold, orange and brown. Autumn flowers sprinkled the gardens with colour. The cool breeze put colour in Harry’s pale cheeks. He sat contentedly for several minutes, enjoying the peaceful scene, then sighed.
"What’s wrong?" Ginny asked, concerned. His face had changed from the peaceful look of happiness of a moment before to one tinged with tension.
"I need to talk to you," he said seriously, not looking at her, but studying his shoes instead. His hands had hung relaxed between his knees as he sat on the steps, but now he clasped them together tightly, as if he were about to face something difficult.
"About what?" she asked, her stomach clenching anxiously.
"About us. I mean. . ." he seemed to search for the right words. "About us pretending you’re my girlfriend. My feelings have changed."
Ginny’s heart sank. "Oh," she said in a small voice, her eyes filling with tears. She blinked back the tears savagely, straightened her shoulders and held her head up high. If she had to face this, she’d face it proudly. She was a strong young woman, after all. "So you want to break up our pretend romance?"
He looked up at her, startled. "No! No, that’s not what I meant." He pounded his fist against his knee. "I knew I’d get all wrong-footed. Damn."
"I’m confused," she said carefully. "What are you talking about?"
Harry turned to her and took both her hands in his. "As I said, my feelings have changed. It started quite a while ago, apparently, but I was too thick-headed to notice." He saw the bewilderment on Ginny’s face, and felt the nervous tension in her hands. The breeze was lifting her hair, blowing glittering red strands across her eyes. He reached out and tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear. "When you fell . . . ." He stopped, took a deep breath and soldiered on. "We’ve been good friends, you and I, for a long time now, and become better friends this summer and autumn. When you fell, I realized I hadn’t been just your friend for weeks. I fancy you, Ginny. I’d like you to be my real girlfriend."
Ginny gasped, her face lit with joy for a moment, but then she forced down her elation. "Oh, Harry. I’ve. . .well. . . . Oh, I hope I’m not going to hate myself for this," she began hesitantly, chewing her lip anxiously.
Harry stiffened, and then his shoulders slumped as if all the air had gone out of him. When he found his voice, he said, "Oh. I see. Hermione was right. You don’t fancy me anymore." He started to get to his feet. "Right. Well. Um. . ."
"No! Oh, no, Harry, you don’t understand!" she replied, then wondered how she was going to manage what she felt she needed to say.
He sat back down. "What don’t I understand?"
"Um. . .I have to ask this. I’m sorry. Have you been working with your Pensieve at all?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yes, why?"
"And. . .um. . .do you remember Casey?"
"Yes. I remember her now." His expression went from confusion to understanding. "Oh, I know. You want to know if I’m over her?"
"Well. . .yes. It’s only been a short time, really."
Harry dropped his head, studying his hands, then looked off in the distance. "Casey was . . . I really did love her. It just destroyed me when she died." He glanced at her for a moment. "You know that." He dropped his eyes again. "The memories I have of her are all happy ones. I’ve been working my way through them, putting them back in my head little by little. I don’t want to forget her — she deserves better than that." He glanced at Ginny again, then looked down and watched his hands twisting together nervously between his knees. "I don’t know how to explain it. I know it was only a short time ago, but it feels like months, or even years, honestly. I think it must be The Refiner’s Fire that caused that. It’s as if I’ve lived five or ten years between then and now. I feel that much older, as if that much time has passed in many ways. It still hurts that she died — it may always hurt. But I can remember her fondly now, enjoy the memories, at least a little at a time." He looked up at Ginny again. "What I felt for Casey was so special — but she’s gone. I didn’t think I’d fancy anyone again for a long time, but then when you fell, I realized I’d fancied you for quite a while already. It scared me to death to think I might lose you."
"You were probably just afraid of another girl dying. You were feeling responsible for both of us," Ginny offered hesitantly.
"No! That’s not it at all!" He paused in thought for a moment. "Well, maybe a little," he allowed, "but not all of it, no. It scared me into realizing how important you’ve become to me, how much you add to my life . . . how much I care for you. I had a flash go through my mind of how life would be without you, and I. . .I couldn’t bear it." He looked at her shyly, taking her hands in his. "I do fancy you, Ginny. Casey is a dear memory, but I don’t think she’d want me to mourn her forever. She was too generous for that."
Ginny nodded. "Yes, she was very sweet."
"So are you. And you’re spicy too," he teased gently, hope lighting in his eyes as her fingers hesitantly entwined with his. "A perfect blend of sugar and spice." He sat smiling at her, then said, "Do you fancy me at all?"
"Do I fancy you?" she said with a sudden laugh. "When have I not? And it’s just gotten stronger as I’ve gotten to know you better." She blushed as she said this.
"So would you be willing to be my girlfriend for real?" he asked again, then laughed as she pulled her hands from his and wrapped her arms around his neck in a bone-crunching hug. "May I take that as a yes?" he asked as he returned her hug.
"Yes!" said Ginny with laughter in her voice as she pulled back to look at him. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" She hugged him again.
"Whew!" Harry said, teasing her. "I’ve been thinking about having this talk with you for days now. I have to admit, I was a bit worried!" They ended the hug and sat holding hands.
Ginny tilted her head, a puzzled look on her face. "Worried? Why?"
"As I said, Hermione told me you didn’t fancy me anymore," he said with a shrug. "She said that was why you were finally talking in front of me, and going out with all those boys." He ducked his head a moment, then looked up at her again, a bit shyly. "I was afraid she was right and that you were just being a good friend to me, pretending to be my girlfriend to get those girls to back off."
"Ha. Shows what Hermione knows!" Ginny beamed. "I went out with those boys when I realized pining after you was getting me nowhere. You had too many other things on your mind to notice me. I got over my shyness by going out with those boys — that’s why I was able to talk in front of you then."
"Oh, fantastic!" he replied brightly. "It’s nice to hear Hermione doesn’t really know absolutely everything." His smile softened as he leaned in and studied her mouth quite seriously.
Ginny lifted her face for her first real kiss with Harry. When they’d been pretending to go out, he’d kissed the top of her head or her cheek, but never a real kiss. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, once, twice, then opened his mouth and ever so delicately touched her lips with his tongue. She responded with heated passion, taking Harry’s breath away. When they broke the kiss, his lips travelled down the side of her neck to the delicate skin behind her ear, then he gently nibbled her earlobe. "Mmm, you taste good," he murmured playfully.
She laughed and nibbled his ear in return. "You, too. I think I’ll have an ear sandwich for lunch, please," she teased.
"I might need that ear later," he protested mildly, "but I can always use yours." Their laughter died at the sound of the bell. "Uh-oh, I need to go. I’ve already missed enough classes this year," he said reluctantly. "C’mon, Miss Weasley," he said, standing and offering her his hand to help her get up. "May I carry your books?"
"You’re the one who’s been sick. I should carry yours," she protested, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder.
"A gentleman never lets a lady carry her own books," Harry said, trying to sound posh and dignified as he took her bag from her. Ginny laughed and they walked back into the castle with Harry’s arm draped around her shoulders. "By the way, would you like to go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and widening his eyes, playfully acting very hopeful, as if afraid she might refuse.
"I might consider it," she teased.
"Please, please, please, please, please?" he begged, his eyes wide and sparkling with suppressed laughter.
"Just the two of us?"
"Well, Ron and Hermione might go with us, but I suspect we can ditch them at some point if we want to — they won’t mind time alone together," he replied with a chuckle.
"I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Harry," she said with a warm smile, her face alight with happiness.
At the door of the Transfiguration classroom, Harry cupped Ginny’s face in his hands and kissed her gently before handing her bag back to her and entering the class. "See you later," he said over his shoulder as he opened the door.
"Yeah," she replied, a dreamy smile on her face. "Later." She watched him enter the room, and heard the explosion of sound that greeted him.
"HARRY!" "HARRY’S BACK!" "Hey, Harry, good to see you!" the calls came from his classmates amidst wild applause. Professor McGonagall was actually smiling despite the din, rather than having her usual stern face on.
"Yes, Mr. Potter, it’s very good to have you back," McGonagall said with a warm smile. "As you can see, your classmates missed you."
Harry was stunned by the reception. He walked slowly up the aisle to where Hermione and Ron were saving him a seat near the front. He shook hands and had his back pounded so often it was getting sore again. He was laughing long before he sat down with his friends. "What’s all this, then?" he asked.
"Colin worked out how to make copies of the Omniocular pictures," Hermione explained. "He’s threatening to make posters of the catch you made when Ginny fell — but he did say he’d talk to you and Ginny first. Everyone in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff has seen the pictures by now. And then when Millicent poisoned you — well, let’s just say the Slytherins don’t have many friends right now. People have asked us about you every time they’ve seen us. Loads of them wanted to come and visit you, but Madam Pomfrey only allowed a few people to see you."
"You should see the list of those who want to be in D.A. now," Ron added. "It’s HUGE! The people who didn’t believe all the stories about you finally have proof that you really are a hero and are under attack. They want to be on our side now."
Harry was uncertain how to respond to this news. He didn’t know if he wanted friends who had to be convinced he wasn’t a liar by witnessing him doing something brave. And he didn’t consider his catch of Ginny to be brave — it was something that needed to be done, that’s all. His musings were cut short by Professor McGonagall calling the class to order.
"Now, class, I told you we’d be starting on the Animagus transfiguration soon. Today is the day." She waited for the excited whispers to die down. "I know you all want to succeed at this spell, but I must warn you. The Animagus transfiguration is an extremely difficult one to master. As you know, we talked about it a bit your third year, but you need to have a good bit of practical magic experience under your belts before attempting it yourself. We introduce the practical application of the transformation in sixth year, but many students don’t succeed with it until seventh — and, I’m sorry to say, the vast majority never manage it at all."
Seamus had his hand in the air. "Yes, Mr. Finnegan?"
"So you’re saying most of us won’t be able to do it?"
"That’s right."
"How many people per year manage it?"
"In the last century, there have been only seven Animagi registered," she replied.
"Seven?" Seamus’s voice cracked in astonishment. "In a century?"
"Yes. Of course, there may have been more who managed the transformation but didn’t register for whatever reason. I know of three such cases myself."
"Why didn’t they register?" Seamus asked.
"They were students here and taught themselves how to do it for their own reasons. We only learned a few years ago about these boys’ success with the transformation."
Parvati’s hand was in the air. "So did they get in trouble for not registering?"
"They might have done, but two of them are dead, and the third is working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," she ignored the gasp this statement caused and ploughed on, "so he’s out of Ministry reach at present. When they do capture him, they will have many more charges to bring against him besides his non-registration as an Animagus," Professor McGonagall said, her nostrils white with disapproval.
"Were the other two dark Wizards too?" Lavender asked nervously. "So maybe those with Dark tendencies do better at the transformation?"
"No, no, not at all. The other two young men were both wonderful students, the best in school, actually. One was head boy, the other his best friend. The third one was a good friend of theirs too, but he turned out badly." She glanced at Harry a moment, saw no disapproval there, then went on. "I suppose there’s no reason not to tell you who they were. James Potter, Harry’s father, was a stag when he transformed. Sirius Black, James’s best friend and Harry’s godfather — who was not a murderer, no matter what you’ve heard — became a great black dog when he changed. They were both good men and are sorely missed by those who knew and loved them." She looked kindly at Harry as she said this, her eyes sad and a bit misty, remembering two students who she had been quite fond of. She took a deep breath, collected herself and got back on topic. "The third one is Peter Pettigrew, who faked his death and framed Sirius Black for it. Pettigrew’s Animagus form is a rat that’s missing a toe on his right front foot and has ragged ears. If you see such a rat, catch it. He needs to be punished for his crimes." Her lips drew into a thin, angry line.
The class looked from McGonagall to Harry in amazement. Ron ducked his head, hoping nobody remembered his old rat’s missing toe and ragged ears.
McGonagall shook herself out of her suppressed rage at Pettigrew and got back on topic. "The Animagus transformation is essentially wandless magic, as I’ve told you before. That aspect alone will prevent some of you from managing it. Not all Wizards are capable of the higher forms of wandless magic. Whether you are or not is no reflection on you as a wizard — oh, and just to ease your worries, the Animagus transformation is not in your N.E.W.T.s. If you do succeed with it and can demonstrate it, you will most certainly get extra credit, but it will not be held against you in any way if you can’t manage this spell. At any rate. . .just as some people can sing beautifully, some can write excellent poetry, and some can fly brooms with far more skill than others, some wizards are naturally skilled at wandless magic and some simply are not. I am introducing this transformation now so you can practice it for a long time before you leave Hogwarts. By having so much time to work on it, you may have a better chance of success. And, as we saw from Mr. Krum’s performance in the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament two years ago, partial transformations are entirely possible and can be quite useful. Now, to the transformation itself." She moved to the board and tapped it with her wand. A numbered list of words appeared. "There are certain things we must consider when thinking about the Animagus transformation. As you can see, number one is ‘Purpose.’ Can anyone tell me the purpose of becoming an Animagus? Yes, Miss Granger."
"Animagus skills allow the wizard to move secretly, to spy, to do research quietly, to get into places he normally couldn’t go," Hermione said.
"Well done, Miss Granger. Five points," McGonagall said approvingly.
Harry raised his hand and McGonagall called on him. "Being an Animagus means you can do things you couldn’t do as a human."
"Exactly, Mr. Potter. Five points," McGonagall said with a smile.
Neville had his hand in the air.
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"
"What Harry said — what does he mean, you can do things you can’t as a human?" Neville looked genuinely puzzled.
:McGonagall studied Harry for a moment. "Mr. Potter, would you like to answer that? Or shall I?"
Harry thought a moment. She’d already brought up his dad and Sirius. "I can do it." He turned to Neville. "You all know Professor Lupin is a werewolf. My dad and Sirius were his best friends and they decided to become Animagi so they could keep him company when he was in wolf form. Werewolves only attack humans, so they were safe from him, and when they were with him, he was better able to control himself. This was all before the Wolfsbane Potion was invented that keeps him calm during the full moon. He doesn’t need that kind of help now, with that potion. And when Sirius was on the run, he could live as a dog, eating rats and things a human wouldn’t want to eat, and take care of himself that way."
Some in the class reacted with "yuck" or "gross" when they heard about Sirius living off rats.
"Mr. Potter is quite correct. When you take on the animal form, you gain the abilities of that sort of animal. Therefore, Harry’s father, being a stag, was large and strong and could run very fast. He could leap large obstacles with ease, live off the land and fight with his antlers like a stag, if he needed to. Sirius Black, being a dog, could run quickly, live off the land, and fight like a dog if need be. And, being a dog, he could pretend to be a friendly stray and stay near people, where James’s stag wouldn’t have been suited for staying in a village."
Harry’s hand was up.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"Can you become a magical animal, and if so, do you take on its abilities?" he asked.
"I recommend you choose a normal animal for your Animagus form, because a magical animal would be more difficult to hide. One of the best uses of the Animagus transformation is stealth. However, if you could manage to transform into a magical animal — and very, very few wizards have managed this feat — then yes, Mr. Potter, you would take on their abilities."
"So if I was a phoenix, I could fly, have healing tears, carry heavy loads, and all that?"
"Yes. But before you go too far wanting to be a phoenix, Mr. Potter, I must remind you that changing into a normal type of animal, particularly a domestic animal, is a much safer choice."
Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned. When had Harry ever taken the safer choice?
Professor McGonagall had picked up her wand. "Now, as we did with the kitten to monkey transformation, we will start with something smaller. There is no incantation. You tap your wand three times on your non-wand hand and think of the paw or foot of the kind of animal you want to become. I would recommend starting with something familiar, like a cat’s paw, since we’ve just been working with cats. Give it a go, then. And don’t worry. If you can’t reverse it, I will take care of it."
The class went to work, with no luck and lots of frustration. Near the end of the class period, Hermione suddenly exclaimed, "You did it!" and Ron said, "Bloody hell!"
"Language, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall called from across the room. "What’s going on over there?"
Harry sat in wonder, looking at his left hand which was now a black cat’s paw, if a large one. At the professor’s question, he mutely held it up for her to see.
McGonagall was delighted. "Oh, well done! Twenty points!" She inspected his paw thoroughly, then had him stand up in front of the class. "Show the class your paw, Mr. Potter." He held it up and turned it around so they could see all sides of it, blushing at the attention. "Now show us what it can do."
Harry glanced at McGonagall, not sure at first what she meant, but then he understood. He stretched his "fingers" and long, sharp claws popped out of the fur. An amazed sound flowed across the room as everyone goggled at the claws.
"Excellent! Now let’s see if you can change it back," McGonagall instructed.
Harry tried several times unsuccessfully. It didn’t help that he was still standing up in front of the class.
"Concentrate, Potter," McGonagall encouraged. She leaned in and whispered to him, "I know you can do this. Don’t think so hard about using the wand, just think of the transformation."
Harry nodded and waved his hand more than tapping with his wand, and suddenly the paw was his own left hand again. "Wow!" he breathed.
"Very good, Harry. Sit down and practice. Don’t overtire yourself," McGonagall said kindly.
"How did you do that?" Hermione said, rather miffed that she wasn’t having any luck at all with the spell.
"No idea. It just . . . worked!" Harry replied, both delighted and astonished.
"Do it again," Hermione insisted.
"’K" Harry agreed, then turned his hand into a black cat’s paw again.
"Whoa, Harry, you’re good at this! Maybe because your dad was, eh?" Ron said, his eyes wistful as he looked at Harry’s paw. He hadn’t changed a single hair on his hand no matter how hard he’d tried.
"I dunno. Maybe."
Neville leaned forward to ask, "Does it hurt your hand when you change it?"
"No."
"Oh. Then I’ll try harder. I was afraid it would hurt," Neville said timidly.
"What’s it feel like when you put your claws out, Harry?" Seamus asked excitedly.
"Like I’m spreading my fingers open wide, sort of," Harry explained. "I don’t know how else to explain it. It doesn’t hurt."
"Bet those claws would, though, huh?" Seamus said with a grin. "You could take out Malfoy in a heartbeat with those!"
"Yeah, and I suppose she isn’t teaching them the same subject?" Ron grumbled. "You watch. I’ll bet Malfoy will be good at this too. And he’ll become something really nasty like a dragon or something, and there’s Harry with cat’s claws to fight him."
"Who said I was going to stay a cat?" Harry asked reasonably, stroking the fur on his paw and feeling the strength of his claws.
"So what are you going to become?" Seamus asked.
"Dunno. A cat would be cool, but I love to fly. Maybe a bird of some kind, I dunno," Harry answered, still amazed by his paw.
"Can I see your claws, Harry?" Parvati asked.
"Actually, that’s a good idea, Miss Patil," Professor McGonagall said. "Harry, would you please walk around the class and let them see how well your transformation worked." Harry got up and started walking desk to desk, feeling odd that so many people were handling his hand and fingers. "Ask Mr. Potter whatever questions you think of. I can tell you about the Animagus transfiguration all day, but it won’t have the impact of your hearing about it from a classmate. I’ll start. How does it feel when they inspect your paw? How does your paw feel?"
"It’s weird," he said as Seamus held Harry’s paw in both of his hands, pressing on the pads to make the claws pop out, then flicking the ends of the claws with his fingernails. "It feels. . .as if they’re holding hands with me."
Seamus dropped Harry’s hand as if it was hot, which evoked a lot of laughter from the class.
"And when they flick the claws like Seamus was just doing, it’s. . .it feels weird. It feels like my fingernails are really long and are being tapped, I guess you could say."
"A very apt analogy, Mr. Potter. And you say the transformation wasn’t painful at all, nor is it uncomfortable for you to have that paw right now?"
"No, not uncomfortable or painful. Sirius told me he didn’t mind being a dog, and that he even enjoyed it. All he minded was the fleas." Harry smiled sadly at the memory. "He could transform in an instant. It was amazing."
"Very good, Mr. Potter. You may take your seat and transform your paw back into a hand. Class, your homework will be for you to list at least three animals you think you would like to try to become as an Animagus, and why you think each animal would be a good choice for you. List the reasons as stated on the board: 1. Purpose; 2. Effect; 3. Usefulness; 4. Abilities; 5. Potential Problems. This is a two week assignment. I expect you to make good use of the library to research the animals that interest you. You will need to include a drawing and detailed diagrams of each animal chosen. I would like you to choose three animals so you have a choice of which animal to transform into. Sometimes our first choice isn’t the one that will work for us. If you don’t succeed with your first choice, perhaps you will with another. I expect at least three rolls of parchment for this assignment. Be sure to do your research thoroughly. That will give you a much better chance of success. When you hand your homework in, we will discuss which animals you picked were good choices and why. There’s the bell. Good day."
As the students gathered their things, the professor said, "Mr. Potter. A word, please."
Harry walked up to her desk. "Yes, Professor?"
"Harry, I’m very pleased with how you did today." She actually smiled at him.
Harry knew this was a rare moment. McGonagall wasn’t known for giving praise or smiles, and she’d done both several times today. "Thank you, Professor," Harry said, beaming.
"You have a natural talent for this skill, I suspect. I would like you to work with Professor Dumbledore on this spell during your wandless magic lessons. I think he will be able to accelerate your learning. I know you have a great deal of homework to catch up on, but do spend as much time as you can practising this spell. Try turning your feet into paws, for instance. Try turning both hands into paws. That kind of thing."
"Yes, Professor," he agreed. This homework assignment actually sounded like fun!
* * * * *
At the evening meal in the Great Hall that night, Ron and Hermione noticed something different about Harry and Ginny. They’d been pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend to avoid Harry’s fan girl problem, but they’d also become closer friends, especially recently. But a close friendship didn’t explain the glow on their faces, the giggles when they caught each other’s eye, or when their hands brushed accidentally while passing food around.
"All right, what’s up with you two?" Hermione said, tilting her head and trying hard not to laugh.
"What?" said Ginny, blushing furiously.
"Huh?" said Harry intelligently.
"I know something’s up. Something’s different. What happened today?" Hermione hissed, leaning across the table toward them. "Tell me!"
"Tell you later, OK?" Harry said after a nervous moment when he glanced at Ginny and they both blushed as a result.
Hermione sat back and crossed her arms, a knowing smile on her face. "It isn’t pretend anymore, is it?"
"What?" Ginny said again.
"Huh?" Harry repeated, apparently at a loss for words.
"Uh-huh. I thought it would happen sometime. You’ll have to tell us all about it after dinner," Hermione said with a smug smile.
"What am I missing?" Ron asked, looking from his sister and his best friend to his girlfriend, a befuddled expression on his face.
Hermione tugged on his sleeve. He leaned down to her and she whispered something in his ear.
"No way! Really? Well, bloody hell, it’s about time!" he cried, reaching across the table and thumping Harry on the head. "Bit thick, aren’t you?"
"Huh?" said Harry. "And that hurt! Ow!"
Ginny was giggling by now. "We’ll talk about it after dinner," she agreed.
After dinner, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione went for a walk by the lake. With a bit of prodding from Hermione, Harry finally spoke.
"You remember I asked Ginny to be my pretend girlfriend to avoid the fan girl problem?" His friends nodded. He glanced down at Ginny and blushed, but reached for her hand, lacing her fingers through his. "When she fell. . . ." He stopped speaking, then swallowed hard and soldiered on. "After that, I realized I felt differently about her than I thought I did. So today I told her I fancy her and asked her to be my girlfriend for real." Ginny blushed prettily as he said this.
Ron whooped with joy and went leaping down the path for a while, leaving the other three laughing at his reaction. He raced back and enveloped Harry in a back-thumping hug.
"It’s about time, you great git! Welcome to the family!" Ron chortled.
"Huh?" Harry said again. He’d said all he could manage, and now he couldn’t seem to come up with an intelligent response no matter how hard he tried.
"Ronald Weasley!" Ginny cried, standing with her hands on her hips and sounding just like her mother. "You will not give us a hard time! You will not tease us! You will not make Harry uncomfortable in any way! Is that clear?"
"Uh. . .yeah!" Ron said, momentarily abashed, but then grinned at her cheekily. "I’m really happy for you, Ginny. You, too, Harry! And I’m glad you both finally came to your senses and got together for real! Whoopee!" he cried, bounding down the path again.
Hermione stood there shaking her head, watching him bounce around like a four-year-old on too many sweets. "He’s so silly sometimes."
"And that’s one of the things you like about him, isn’t it?" Ginny said wisely.
"Yes, it is," Hermione said fondly, smiling as he bounded back toward them, more like an overgrown puppy than a nearly grown young man.
Harry chuckled at Ron’s antics, then wrapped his arm around Ginny’s shoulders and smiled down at her. "D’you suppose that means he approves?"
She turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. "I think so. It’s a good thing. I’d hate to have to hex him."
Ron finally calmed down enough to put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, and the two couples meandered down the lakeside path until the sun went down, laughing and teasing and enjoying each other’s company.
* * * * *
On Sunday morning a week and a half after Harry got out of the hospital wing, Ron got up and wandered over to his friend’s bed. "Hey, mate, get up! You OK? You’re usually up long before me. We’ll miss breakfast!" He pulled aside the heavy drapes from round Harry’s bed and was astonished to see a phoenix lying on the coverlet.
"Fawkes? What are you doing here?" Ron asked. "Where’s Harry?"
The phoenix shook its beautiful red and gold head, its green eyes glittering as it stared at Ron.
"Do you understand me? You do, don’t you?" Ron asked.
The phoenix nodded, and got to its feet, staring hard at Ron.
"Where’s Harry?"
The phoenix looked from Ron to its own chest, then back at Ron.
"Huh? Wait a second, Fawkes doesn’t have green eyes. Are you Fawkes?"
The phoenix shook its head hard, and stared at Ron, then bounced up and down on its feet, spreading its wings and flapping them a bit.
"You’re not. . .you’re never. . .no way. . .Harry?" said Ron, aghast, as the bird leaped up and fluttered its wings as it nodded. "Harry? Is that you?"
The bird bobbed its head vigorously.
"Whoa! You turned into a phoenix? That’s bloody brilliant! Change back and tell me how you did it!"
The bird hung its head and shook it, rather sadly.
"You’re not. . .stuck. . .are you?"
The bird gave Ron a squinting look of disgust that he recognized as Harry’s.
Ron laughed. "Yeah, that’s Harry, all right! You want me to take you to McGonagall?"
The bird nodded and leaped onto Ron’s shoulder.
"OK, let’s go! I never thought I’d be walking around with a phoenix on my shoulder. Wicked!" Ron chortled as he pelted down the stairs, making the bird lift off his shoulder and take flight briefly. It was about to crash into a wall when Ron caught it. "Whoa! You can’t fly properly yet, eh? OK, I’ll be more careful."
"Hey, Ron," Colin called from across the common room. "Where’d you get the cool bird? What is it?"
"It’s. . ." Ron hesitated because the phoenix was pulling his hair with its beak. "It’s Dumbledore’s phoenix. I guess he flew in our window by mistake. I’m taking it to him."
"Wow, I’ve never seen a real phoenix before," Colin enthused starting to come toward Ron.
The bird pulled mightily at Ron’s hair. He got the hint and hurried toward the portrait hole. "Ow! I’ve got to go, Colin, Dumbledore will be wanting him. See you later."
"’K! Wow, I can’t wait to tell Dennis I saw a real phoenix!" Colin exclaimed as he ran back up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory.
As Ron walked down the hall, the phoenix moved restlessly on his shoulder. "What’s the matter, are you crowded up there?" Ron asked. "You are a bit big to ride on my shoulder. Ouch, don’t pinch me with your talons! Here, get on my arm, and be careful — those claws are sharp!"
The bird looked up at Ron and blinked, then flapped its wings again.
"Ah, you want to fly! I knew you would," Ron said, laughter in his voice. "OK, I’ll launch you like you do Hedwig. Is that what you want?"
The bird nodded.
"Here you go!" Ron said as he pushed his arm up quickly to help the bird get airborne. The phoenix spread its magnificent wings and flapped, falling nearly to the floor before it managed to catch some air and coordinate its movements. For a few joyous moments, Harry flew as a phoenix flies. Then he sensed someone coming and thought longingly of McGonagall’s office. He needed to get there, and in secret, but how? With a flash of light, he disappeared.
"Harry? Harry!" Ron called, frightened that something had happened to his friend. He didn’t find any sign of Harry, so he sprinted down the hall to McGonagall’s office, barely apologizing to Snape as he rushed past him. He banged on McGonagall’s door. "Professor! Professor, I need to speak to you!" he called.
McGonagall opened the door and looked at him oddly. "Mr. Weasley, do you have any idea why there’s a phoenix in my office - one that that clearly is not Fawkes?"
Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew! I was hoping this was where he got to."
"Please come in, Mr. Weasley. I believe I’m due a bit of an explanation?" She gestured toward a chair by the fireplace as she closed her door.
Ron came in and sat down on the chair, the back of which was occupied by the phoenix. The magnificent bird was preening its wing feathers with obvious self-satisfaction. "That’s Harry, Professor."
"No. It can’t be," she said adamantly.
"Do phoenixes normally have green eyes?" Ron asked, honestly curious. Fawkes was the only phoenix he’d ever seen, and his eyes were black, not green. "When I saw this one on Harry’s bed this morning, and saw it had green eyes, I asked it some questions and it answered as if it was Harry. I think it is Harry." He turned to the bird. "Are you Harry Potter?"
The bird nodded emphatically. Professor McGonagall gasped.
"I think he’s stuck, Professor," Ron said matter-of-factly.
"P-p-potter? Are you. . . stuck. . . in that form?" she asked nervously.
The bird nodded again and jumped down to sit on her knee and look up at her. He nudged her wand hand.
"You want me to change you back?" she asked.
The bird nodded and nudged her wand hand again.
"Very well." She got her wand and tapped him, changing him back to Harry. The real Harry Potter was far too big for her skinny lap and fell to the floor in a laughing, delighted heap.
"Thanks, Professor!" he said as he sat up and rubbed his elbow, which had hit the table as he fell. "Ow!"
"Potter, I am astounded. How did this happen?"
"I finally got the hang of transforming in my lesson last night with Professor Dumbledore," Harry explained. "I turned into a cat, then a raven. Both of them have green eyes and a light zigzag in their colour where my scar is, so I think those are my ‘identifying marks’ for the registration. Then Professor Dumbledore and I talked about transforming into magical creatures, and I was thinking about that as I returned to my room. After I went to bed, I changed from myself to a cat, to myself, to a raven, to myself, then a dragonfly. That was brilliant!" He looked at Ron. "I landed on your nose and you tried to swat me in your sleep," he said, laughing.
"I woke myself up hitting my face," Ron grumbled. "So that’s your fault, eh?" He tried to act angry but couldn’t manage it, so he just sat grinning at his friend.
"Sorry," Harry said breezily, then went back to his story. "Then I thought I’d try some magical transformations. I became a thestral and a phoenix, but I was so excited that I’d managed the thestral, I forgot to become human between thestral and phoenix and I think that’s why I got stuck."
McGonagall was beyond speech. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to say something. Finally, she managed to croak out, "You did. . .five. . .transformations in quick succession?"
"Oh, I was transforming all night. I wanted to be as fast as you or Sirius in changing form, so I was practicing, and then it just became so interesting, I didn’t stop," Harry said simply, shrugging his shoulders as if what he’d done was the easiest thing in the world.
"How many times did you transform?"
"I lost count. I was trying to go faster each time. Then I started adding other forms."
"And you became a thestral as well as a phoenix? Truly?"
Harry grinned cheekily. "D’you want to see?"
"Of. . .of course!" McGonagall replied, still looking stunned.
"Clear some space, it takes a lot of room. I thought I’d break my bed. They’re heavier than I thought they’d be." Harry suited action to words and shoved some furniture aside to make a clear space in the middle of the room. "OK, here goes." The black of his hair seemed to spread all over his body, becoming shinier and slicker with each second. His arms became the forelegs of a reptilian horse and soon a splendid thestral stood before them. Its eyes were a sparkling green full of mischief instead of white and dead-looking, and it had a lightning bolt shaped mark above its right eye. Professor McGonagall’s jaw dropped in amazement.
"Where is he?" Ron complained, reaching out to try to find the invisible beast.
"He’s just there, Mr. Weasley. Reach out. His shoulder is next to you."
Before Ron could move, he was soundly bumped by the thestral’s head. "Whoa! Harry! Don’t hurt me!" He felt the head rub his shoulder more gently, then the light brush of a bat-like wing over his hair. "Crikey, he is a thestral!" With that, Harry changed back to a tired but very happy Harry Potter.
Author Notes:
Many thanks to my Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my beta readers, Blakevich, Starfox and Pilar!