Chapter 15: Waiting
xxx
In the days that followed, it became apparent that almost everyone, for one reason or another, was waiting anxiously for the coming of the full moon.
In Draco's case, the reason was obvious. He was dreading the weekend, which rushed toward him like an oncoming train. Again, the useless, overpowering want came upon him, just like before. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to be normal again, wanted it with more force than he'd wanted anything before in his life.
But the wanting was impotent. The train came anyway, its headlights as bright and white as the glow of the moon.
Alone in his private rooms, he considered visiting the Slytherins, but soon dismissed the idea. Being around his friends these past few weeks was a fine and welcome distraction, as well as a foolproof way of convincing himself that nothing had really changed, but he was beginning to notice that he disliked company in the days before the transformation. It made him tense, always afraid the wolf was too close to the surface and would give him away at any moment.
This was related to the reason that Harry was awaiting the full moon. His plans for the DA had come to a temporary halt when the Slytherin had point blank refused to attend any more meetings until after the weekend, when he'd be returned to relative normalcy. Besides, Harry wasn't particularly keen on the idea of setting loose an edgy werewolf to curse his friends. He wanted to prepare them, but wasn't willing to go that far. Both he and Draco had visions of the things that could go wrong – visions that included the blonde's shorter than usual temper and what he might do if made angry. Also, neither wanted to risk the entire DA discovering Draco's curse.
So Harry waited to break the news of his plans to his friends. He'd decided to tell Ron and Hermione first, though only when it was closer to the time. He didn't want to spend days listening to them try and dissuade him. He could just imagine Hermione's scandalised protests and Ron's choked indignity. No, better to wait.
With him waited Remus Lupin and Severus Snape, though for different reasons entirely.
How considerate, Severus had thought cynically, when Albus had first told him they would wait until he'd recovered somewhat before beginning this… experiment. He would have the week to go about mending his injuries and his frazzled nerves before he was subjected to another round of torture, this one involving that pathetic excuse for a man.
Shrewdly, Severus guessed that his own damaged state wasn't the only reason they were being instructed to wait. Albus might like to make himself out to be merciful by considering his Potion Master's ill health, but there was more to it than that. He was worried about the nearness of the full moon. Merlin knew what effect it would have on mental magic.
Severus didn't really want to know. He didn't want to know anything about Lupin's mental world. He didn't want to know Lupin, damn it all! The man was a plague; a pest that had followed Severus throughout his life.
But this time… This time it was worse than ever, if only because it would be so much more personal. Always before, he'd been able to disassociate himself, even physically distance himself. But now… He was being asked to enter the wolf's mind, submerge himself in thoughts that weren't his own in order to protect that mind and those thoughts. It felt… intimate. Horribly, disgustingly intimate.
And in the name of duty he couldn't say no.
Albus had cornered him there. Given him that look that was pointedly unassuming, making it clear that the choice to say yes was his alone, even though it wasn't really a choice.
Meanwhile, Remus was as nervous as Severus was angry. No, strike that – he was terrified. It was hitting home now, as the days passed, exactly what he'd agreed to. Oh, he was still quite determined to go through with it, of course, but the thought of letting another person into his head... Letting Severus into his head!
He hadn't minded the idea of the other man teaching him Occlumency, even though that would have involved a fair share of Legilimency. At least then the object would have been to guard his own thoughts. But this new idea, this experimental process, it meant purposely taking down any and all defences, leaving himself thoroughly vulnerable and allowing the other man in. It meant giving him free reign and a front row seat to all of his thoughts and memories. It meant trusting him to an awful degree.
There were things Remus didn't want Severus to see. Lots of things.
And so, in these states, they waited for the moon.
xxx
"Bishop to D3. Checkmate."
Harry watched resignedly as Ron's white bishop bashed aside his pawn and claimed the square, finally cornering his king. He hadn't really expected any other outcome, so wasn't too disappointed by his third loss in a row. Sighing, he sat back in his chair, half smiling as he watched the white chess pieces give their silent victory cheer.
"You're getting better," his redheaded friend offered.
Harry grinned. "No I'm not," he admitted freely. Closing his eyes, he raised his arms above his head and stretched.
Hermione glanced up from her book, noticing their game had ended. "That didn't last long," she commented.
"It never does," Ron teased. "Harry, great duellist, mate, but you know squat about chess."
Harry narrowed his eyes, but before he had a chance to return the playful banter, he was interrupted by Hermione, who abruptly sat forward in interest. "Speaking of duelling, when do you want to set up the next meeting? I was thinking this weekend. Tomorrow would be good –"
"No!" he cut her off swiftly, earning him a surprised look. "I, uhm, was thinking of next week sometime, actually."
The redhead nodded. "Yeah, give him a break, Hermione. Weekends are meant for relaxing. Besides, it's the Hogsmeade trip, isn't it? No one's gonna want to show up when they could be down the pub instead."
She rolled her eyes, but backed down. "Fine. Just let me know when you pick a day, Harry, so I can set the new date and time into the Galleons."
He nodded vaguely, his mind wandering.
"So where are we going tomorrow?" Ron asked them. "I think I might stop off at Zonko's and Honeydukes. Run out of Fizzing Wizzbees. Either of you have anywhere particular in mind?"
But Harry wasn't listening. He stood up, extracting himself from the squishy embrace of the Gryffindor armchair and oblivious to the faintly surprised expressions his friends wore. "Listen, I'm going out for a while. I'll try and be back by –"
"Harry!"
He blinked, cut short by Hermione's sudden high-pitched protest. She was staring at him with wide eyes, her book clutched in too-tight fingers.
"Harry, this has to stop!"
"Sorry… what?" he asked, feeling lost.
Ron was looking anxiously between his friends, obviously unsure whether or not to interrupt. Not that Hermione would have let him, judging by the look on her face. "Harry James Potter! For months now you've been wandering off on your own like this! It has to stop! You can talk to us, you know!"
He frowned in bemusement. "Hermione, what –?"
She sighed and shut her book with a snap. "I understand it must be… hard, but honestly, we're here if you need us –"
"This isn't about Sirius, okay?" he snapped, realising what she was driving at. Not entirely, anyway, he added silently to himself.
"Then what?" she demanded. "Why are you being so secretive?"
"I'm not!" As soon as the denial left his lips he realised it was a lie, but couldn't bring himself to retract it. He sighed, reaching up to rub his eyes. "Look, I just want to be on my own sometimes. It's nothing to worry about. Really."
She was looking at him sadly, obviously not believing.
Annoyed, he turned away. "I'll see you later." And with that, he left, feeling vaguely glad that the common room was empty, and no one had witnessed the brief, tense interaction.
xxx
While Harry was making his way towards the secluded Room of Requirement, Draco was slipping unseen out onto the castle grounds and making his way reluctantly towards the little hut near the edge of the forest.
He'd been determined not to do this, if only for the sake of defying Lupin, who had dared to give him an order. "I expect you here Friday," he'd said. Indeed! Draco had scoffed, not for a moment intending to obey.
He sighed. In truth, he wasn't sure why he'd changed his mind. He certainly hadn't meant to. He was indulging this on a whim, really. Or so he told himself. No way did he believe Lupin could actually help with this madness. It was just morbid curiosity, agreeing to go along with it.
Sneering at his own justifications, he shook his head and quickened his pace. The sun was just touching the lake, seeming to drown and bleed into the water.
xxx
He was ready. He could do this. He knew he could.
Book in one hand, held open to the significant page, wand in the other, he stood in the centre of the Room with his eyes closed, concentrating. Under his breath he murmured words long committed to memory, ever since he'd started this study, in fact. It was the spell that would activate the very first transformation. Cast it right, and he'd never have to use it again, but would be able to change forms with a simple thought.
He'd spent week after week learning it in detail. Having started reading the book even before he'd returned to Hogwarts, he was finally finished, and sure that he could do it.
In his mind he held the image of the animal he'd eventually determined to be his Animagus form. That part had taken the longest and most patience. It had required something akin to meditation, during which he'd had to wait until the dim shape of it came together in his mind's eye. For some wizards, it was impossible to move any further than this. They found their animal representative distasteful or, in their opinion, degrading, and so couldn't accept it.
Harry had had no such trouble. Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd been thrilled with his.
Currently, he held that shape behind his eyes, focusing on it intensely, all the while muttering the words to make sure he remembered them correctly.
Rationally, this was a stupid thing to be doing. He knew that, on some level, but ignored it. He ignored the fact that he was attempting a potentially disastrous spell, in a place where no one could reach him if he needed help, and was technically committing a crime by not informing anyone of his studies. If this worked, he'd be an unregistered Animagus.
Just like his father and Sirius, he told himself as comfort.
Sighing, he pushed thoughts like that away. He pushed all thoughts away, trying to empty his head as the book advised, filling it only with the words of the spell. Finally, raising his wand from where it hung loosely at his side, he initiated the casting with a sharp, precise flick upwards.
Instantly alerted to his intent, he felt his magic rush toward the length of wood, gathering beneath his skin, almost humming as he began to speak, haltingly at first, but growing stronger as the hum of the magic increased. Seeming to encourage him, it thrilled through his veins as it surged towards certain points on his body, creating nexus points of power. He felt it in his throat, twining around the words as he voiced them, giving them meaning and energy. It pooled somewhere near his stomach, at the core of him, radiating warmth. And as he manoeuvred his wand through the intricate flourishes and flicks, he felt it as a hand clasped around his own, guiding the gestures.
The words, ingrained into him, came easily after the first initial stumbles. He intoned the flowing Latin without fault, and sensed it combine with the magic in the air around him. A reasonably long spell, his only problem came as he struggled to keep in place the image of his animal as he spoke.
So focused on this was he that he barely noticed the odd sensations at first. Assuming that the effects of the spell, if he was successful, would begin promptly after finishing the incantation, he wasn't prepared to find they were beginning halfway through.
But sure enough, as he murmured lowly, the creeping feeling that he was suddenly weightless came upon him. His stomach flipped uncomfortably, as if he was falling, and he had to concentrate even harder to keep the spell under control. He fought to keep the words and the image in mind as the odd sensations grew stronger.
It occurred to him, for possibly the first time, how seriously wrong this could all go. He was alone and trapped if this failed. A spell supposedly out of his league and he'd tried it in the most isolated place he could find. Panic joined the floating sensation in his stomach.
But no, he couldn't afford panic. He struggled for calm and concentration, pushing away the rush of nervous adrenaline that had started to surge through him.
In this way, he forced out the last few lines of the spell, ending with a breath of sheer relief.
He waited. The Room was distinctly silent now, without his quiet chanting. He barely dared move, in case he broke the stillness. The weightlessness was still present, sickening him slightly. But other than that, nothing.
He continued to wait, holding his breath. Had he done something wrong? Mispronounced a word? Flicked his wand in the wrong direction? No, he couldn't have. He knew, off by heart, every nuance of this spell. He'd studied for this harder than he had for exams. He couldn't have gotten it wrong!It was–
Something seemed to collide with his stomach. Not painfully, but the feeling of impact was so real he doubled over, gasping. As if he'd been hit by a Bludger, it winded him, and he expected at any moment to feel the aftershock of pain. It didn't come. Instead, it stunned him to feel another impact strike at him from behind. Arching, he grunted in surprise and fell to his knees, trying desperately to keep his wits about him, instead of losing them to fright.
He wasn't sure if this was supposed to happen, and that scared him.
Everything seemed to start falling away from him. The world flickered and fractured in his vision, and he had to close his eyes, the sight making him nauseas. His sense of sight removed, he was left with nothing to concentrate on but the sudden feeling that he was flowing and shifting. Everything was changing, leaving him alone and floating in empty space and magic.
Abruptly remembering the advice the book had given him, he brought to mind the traits and characteristics of what he was about to become. He thought of four legs and fur and running and strength. He thought of scents, sight and sounds.
Taking notice of the impression he created in his head, his magic leapt upon it, taking it from him and twisting it into reality. The flowing sensation increased and he realised it was the feeling of his body changing shape. It didn't hurt – not like the Polyjuice transformation in second year – but it was strange enough to disorientate him.
He started to stagger, dizzy, somehow on his feet again. Only he wasn't, not really. Limbs tangled beneath him, strange and unused, clumsy and awkward. He fell, gasping.
Was this right? Was he supposed to feel like this, ill and light-headed? Desperate to know if it had worked, he opened his eyes hesitantly. The world was in shades of grey around him. That was a good start – right?
Responding to his need, as it was designed to do, the Room took it upon itself to conjure a mirror. Harry blinked, and in a second the full length, ornately framed glass stood before him.
Even though he'd expected it, he tried to swear in surprise. Instead, the sound came out as a sharp yelp.
The only thing he recognised about his reflection were his eyes. As ever, they were the bright, verdant green that was his trademark. They looked quite strange on the face of the massive black dog he'd become.
Staring in amazement, Harry wasn't sure what reaction to give. With an effort, he managed to coordinate his four legs enough to stand, and was shocked simply by his own size. Standing like this, he'd be almost chest-height against someone like Hermione, able to tower over her if he balanced only on his back legs. Coarse black hair was as untidy as ever, sticking up at odd angles all over him. Long muzzle ended in a wet nose, and was filled with teeth unmistakeably canine.
He gaped at the mirror, unsure if this was real.
He'd done it. He was an Animagus! An unregistered Animagus, but one nonetheless!
He'd long familiarised himself to the fact that his animal form was very much like Sirius's had been, possibly even influenced by the man, but seeing it in real life was something else. He spun around, trying to catch a glimpse of every new angle of himself, large padded paws almost tripping him at first.
Excitement and exhilaration rushed through him. This was it! He'd actually done it!
Maybe it was the amazement, new and fresh, or something he'd been intending all along, somewhere in the back of his mind – but suddenly he wanted out. Out of the dark, isolated Room, out of the castle, out of the monotony he'd come to think of as life.
He wanted to run. Wanted it instinctively, as if urged by this new body. So, padding carefully towards the door, still adjusting to the use of four limbs, he reached out a paw and scratched it open, before bounding out into the corridor. He was sure no one would see him, this time of night – and really, couldn't much bring himself to care if someone did. Giving way to the want, he made his way towards the castle foyer, and then out onto the castle grounds.
And then, just for the joy of it, the rush of it, he ran.