I was running through a dense jungle. Large trees filled my vision, their branches twisting and turning and joining together to create a large network of interlocking branches that could only ever be created by mother nature. Many animals filled these branches, colorful birds hooted and cawed, brown-haired monkeys swung along the branches like, well, monkeys, and large snakes, boa constrictors several times thicker than the very branches they hung on, lazed about. The amount of noise these creature's generated pounded into my hypersensitive eardrums, though it did not bother me.
Humid air stuck to my fur, creating thick droplets of water that slid across my sleek body as my four pawed feet and powerful legs propelled me forward. Sometimes I would run along the ground. Other times I used the trees and branches to continue moving toward my destination. Leaping over large gaps to land on unused branches, using my sharp nails to stick to the surface of trees as I climbed up and down the trunks, ducking, swerving and weaving through vines and foliage, all of it was second nature to me.
My breath came out in thick, heavy pants, yet for I was not the least bit winded. It seemed that, for whatever reason, my capacity for taking in oxygen had expanded, and I could now intake much more air than I normal.
I paused in my trek through the jungle. Lifting my head I took several sniffs of the air. My nose, far more sensitive to smells than even the most well-trained dogs, picked up the scent I was looking for. It seemed I was on the right track.
My sharps claws unstuck themselves from the trunk I stood on and I landed on the ground with a soft thud. I bounded off once more, continuing ever onwards to my destination in long, loping strides.
Eventually, I reached my destination: a large pond being fed into by several streams. Reeds and grass stuck out from the water, swaying in the wind, along with the large humps of flesh from the hippopotamus lounging in the water.
There were many other animals present, mammals and reptiles, birds and bugs, very little escaped my keen eyes. I took note that many of the animals avoided me, but didn't pay them more than a cursory glance. They weren't worth my time right now, as I had no desire to hunt, not when there were more important things I needed.
Like water, for instance.
I finished my slow stalk toward the pond, stopping only when I reached the edge. Dipping my head toward the river, I made to take a drink when I paused.
My reflection stared back at me, its mirror-like quality distorted due to ripples on the waters surface. But even with my reflection blurred, I could still see my face. Glowing green irises set on a feline muzzle greeted me. The fur around my face and body was thick and black and shone with a glossy sheen, except for the center of my forehead, where a single patch of white fur stood out proudly in the shape of a lightning bolt.
My vision grew fuzzy, blurred. I blacked out for a second, and when my vision returned to me, the scene had changed.
No longer was I in a jungle, a mass of interweaving and connected branches and vines where thousands of animals live. Now I was soaring through the skies. Large white clouds hung around me, white vapors of water that coalesced into physical form. The air was crisp and cool, refreshing, and only the peaks of a mountain range several dozen kilometers below kept me company.
As I gazed upon the world around me, my eyes were inevitably drawn to the mountain peeks. I could not see anything below that. The thick cloud cover around the mountain range kept me from seeing the ground.
That was fine, I thought. My eyes were not focused on the ground far below, but the mountain peak closest to where I flew.
It was a strange flattop peak. There was no point at the top, and in fact, it looked less like the peak of a mountain and more like a valley. The peak dipped inwards, much like a volcano would, creating a deep valley within the mountain itself. With little more than a thought, my eyes zoomed in close and saw that the valley possessed a large, crystal blue lake surrounded by a copse of trees.
With a mild downward tilt of my wings, I descended into the small valley. The air whistled around me, shrill and loud as my descent came close to breaking the sound barrier. The wind before me parted as I focused my magic to the front of my body and used it to shield me from the effects. I could see small flames flickering at my magic as I reached terminal velocity.
And then I was at my destination. My dive took me to the lake, where I skimmed across its surface as I pulled out, my wings spreading to their fullest to slow my body while I used my magic to direct the flow of the air currents around me. The clawed talons of my front feet and the paws of my back feet skimmed across the water's surface, creating small waves in my wake.
As I flew along the surface of the lake, several animals that made this mountain their home came out to greet me. I recognized all of them, from the largest mammals to the smallest reptile, it was easy to recognize my subjects. And they recognized me as well, for when they saw me gliding along the lake, my powerful wings flapping only occasionally, they all bowed before me.
It was good to be king.
Looking down into the water I could see my distorted reflection upon its surface. It blurred due to the ripples, but nonetheless, I could see what all of my subjects saw. A glowing golden beak attached to a head of luminescent silvery feathers. Sharp, intelligent, and proud emerald colored irises. A pair of wings whose total span was easily twice as long as I was set into my shoulder blades, leading down into a pair of sharp, taloned feet. The silvery feathers became golden fur further down my body. Powerful hind legs and large paws with sharp claws were set into my hindquarter. And at the very end of my body, writhing and moving along with a mind of its own, a poisonous green snake with red slitted irises stuck out its forked tongue and tasted the air with a sibilant hiss.
XoX
Christmas had come and gone, and before long, Harry found himself back in school. The beginning of the second semester had been very pleasant.
One of the main incidents about the end of the holidays that pleased him to know end was the newspapers article on his appearance at the New Year Ball hosted by the Ministry. It had been a very flattering piece about him. Apparently, several very prominent witches and wizards he had spoken with during the ball had been more than willing to praise his intelligence and drive, stating that he was 'a young man with a keen intellect who was both polite and driven.' Andromeda had been very proud when she saw the article.
News must have also spread to his peers, because many of them had begun staring at him again the moment he arrived at platform nine and three-quarters.
Something else he enjoyed about returning to Hogwarts was getting to spend time with his new friends. During the train ride over all of Harry's friends had given him presents in return for the ones he had given them during Christmas. In all honesty, he had not expected them to have gotten him anything, nor had asked them to. That they had done so caused his heart to constrict with some unknown emotion, a strange but not unpleasant feeling that he had only felt a few times before—often in the presence of Lisa.
Classes hadn't changed much. In fact, they hadn't changed at all. The course work was slightly different, the subjects being the next set of spells and theory the teacher's wanted to teach, but that was about it.
Transfiguration had finally moved on from changing a match stick to a needle to the switching spell.
“Many people tend to think that the switching spell is actually swapping out one item for another,” Harry told Neville, Hermione, Susan and Hannah as he showed them how to perform the spell by 'switching' an apple with a glass vial. Of course, they were not the only ones paying attention to his lecture; the other students and even Professor McGonagall listened in, curious to hear his explanation. “But the truth is you aren't actually swapping two things around. It wouldn't even be a Transfiguration spell if that were the case.”
Harry paused for a moment, carefully considering how to explain his theory on the spell, then waved his wand and swapped the apple and vial again.
“What you're actually doing is simultanious Transfiguration. Transforming the apple into the vial and the vial into the apple at the exact same time to get the effect of 'swapping two items around simultaneously.' This is much more difficult than transforming one item into another. Not only because you are transforming two objects at once, but because they must be done at the exact same time.”
“Now the reason it's called the 'Switching Spell' is because of the method used to do the simultaneous transformations. Rather than actually imagining two objects in your mind transforming at the same time, you are picturing two objects in your mind trading places.”
Harry tilted his head for a moment.
“I personally find that the easiest way to do this transformation is to picture each object on opposite sides of the other in your mind, then imagine them simultaneously moving until they cross paths and both objects end up on the opposite sides they started. The only problem that may occur here is when you have to visualize the two objects overlapping each other, which is where most of the errors you might make when casting this spell will occur.”
“An excellent explanation, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall was practically beaming at him. Of course, beaming was very much an overstatement. She didn't beam. However, she did give him a smile, which might as well be beaming when it came to her “Very few people ever understand the particularities of this spell, even when they get older. Take ten points for Gryffindor.”
Harry inclined his head in a gesture of acknowledgment toward the Transfiguration professor.
“Thank you, ma'am.”
Classes ended that day with only Hermione Granger being able to accomplish the spell. The Switching Spell was much harder than changing a match stick into a needle. Even with Harry giving his peers whatever help he could, many still could not get the spell right. If the objects being 'swapped' didn't come out horribly disfigured, then the objects were entirely different than the ones Professor McGonagall asked them to swap in the first place. The only other person who came close to getting the spell right was Susan Bones, whose apple had a slight discoloration and the vial had several cracks in it.
“Remember,” Professor McGonagall called out as the bell rang and everyone began to leave. “I want a six inch essay on the Switching Spell done by the next class.”
“You guys go on ahead without me,” Harry told his friends as he slung his book bag over his shoulder. “There's something I want to talk to Professor McGonagall about.”
“Alright,” Neville said, shrugging his book bag onto his shoulder. Hermione bit her lip, clearly curious as to what he intended to speak with Professor McGonagall about, but didn't say anything as the round-faced boy continued speaking. “We'll see you in a few.”
“Bye Harry,” Hannah gave him a cheerful smile while Susan's smile was much more demure in nature.
When they left, Harry turned to Professor McGonagall, the book she had given him coming out of his book bag as he walked over to her.
“I wanted to thank you for lending this to me,” Harry said as he handed the book to the stern looking Professor. “It was very informative, incredibly so, in fact.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it, Mister Potter.” Professor McGonagall looked the book over, searching for any signs of damage. She looked up a second later and smiled. “And it's in the same condition when I gave it to you.”
“Of course,” Harry replied, before smoothly changing the subject. “However, while the book contained a lot of information, it did leave me with a few questions.”
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
“Such as?”
“The book often spoke of the process on becoming an animagus, namely how, through long hours of meditation the witch or wizard in question comes into contact with their animal form, often through the use of daydreams. I noticed, however, that the book only ever spoke of ones animal form in a singular tense, not plural. And I couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to have multiple animal forms.”
The Transfiguration Professor looked intrigued by his question. A thoughtful expression crossed her face as she thought on how best to answer him.
“If such a thing were possible it has never been recorded,” Professor McGonagall said at last. “Though that is not to say it isn't possible, just that we know of no one who has multiple animagus forms. I suppose, theoretically, it would be possible if the witch or wizard in question had two traits that were equal in prominence.”
“That was my thought as well,” Harry admitted. “The book spoke of how your animal form is connected to your base emotions. If someone is vain, or proud, or intelligent, or loyal your animal form will reflect that by being the animal whose emotions are closest to your most powerful emotional trait. So if someone had equal parts pride and cunning, they could theoretically have more than one form.”
The stern witch looked impressed by his deduction, if the smile on her face was any indication.
She also didn't miss what he was hinting at when he mentioned pride and cunning.
“It seems, Mister Potter, that the traits of both your parents run quite strongly in you.” She gave him a wry smile. “It is most disconcerting to see Lily's intelligence being combined with James' skills in Transfiguration.”
“You should just be glad I didn't pick up my father's habit of pranking,” Harry joked with a smile, “I've been told that he was quite the prankster in his youth.”
“Yes, he was.” Professor McGonagall grimaced, no doubt remembering all of the pranks Harry's father had pulled throughout his time at Hogwarts. “I can't tell you how pleased I am that you have not picked up his desire to cause trouble. And I should hope that you will not pick it up either.”
She gave him a stern look that caused him to shrug.
“I don't think you will need to worry about that.”
“Good,” Professor McGonagall nodded and plastered a more pleasant look on her face. “Now, was there anything else you wanted to ask?”
“Just one more question,” Harry replied, “I was wondering about the transformations themselves. According to the book and other books I've read, there have been animals of all kinds. Everything from falcons to polar bears to snakes and lizards, yet, in all those listings of animal forms, I have never heard of someone getting the form of a magical animal, like a Phoenix or a Griffin. I was just wondering if such a thing were possible.”
The Transfiguration Professor rubbed her jaw, thinking hard on his question.
“That, too, is unknown, however,” she paused, looking a bit pensive. Harry raised an eyebrow.
“However?”
“Well, there was a rumor of someone who had a magical animagus form,” Professor McGonagall admitted with a shrug. “There are several legends that speak of Merlin having the animagus form of a dragon, however, no one has ever found out if that is true, because no one has ever seen him transform—at least none that survived to tell about it.”
“Do you believe there is any truth to the legends?” asked Harry.
“I do not know.” Professor McGonagall shrugged. “However, I would hazard a guess that this is simply a case of myth. Morgana Le Fey was well-known as Merlin's greatest rival in magic. From my understanding, the two of them tried outdoing each other all throughout their time at Hogwarts, and continued long after they graduated. If anyone had any knowledge of Merlin's animagus form, it would have been her, and since she did not say anything in her book...”
Harry nodded, though on the inside he did have to wonder if perhaps Morgana had simply left the information out for some reason. It was hard to tell, as he had not known either Merlin or Morgana, but it was not impossible that she had decided not to reveal Merlin's secret out of respect for her rival. From what he read in her book, Morgana was a vein and prideful witch, but also held great respect for those who earned it. Several times she had written anecdotes that were often mocking and derisive when she wrote of other people. However, when she spoke of Merlin, while the quality held a similar mocking tone, there was also a hint of respect for his accomplishments.
Strangely enough, despite the book being about animagus, when it spoke of Merlin, there was not a hint of what his form might be, or if he had one at all. Which, of course, is what led Harry to believe Morgana had just decided not to tell anyone.
“Thank you for indulging me, Professor,” Harry said at last.
“It was no trouble at all, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said. “If you have anymore questions, please feel free to come to me.”
Harry offered the woman a genuine smile.
“I will most certainly take you up on that offer.”
XoX
Harry read through several lines of writing that told how to make the Wiggenweld Potion, as well as what it was used for. The writing was in very neat, beautiful cursive that spoke of someone who had practiced her hand writing for years. Harry would even admit to feeling envious, as the calligraphy was even better than his own.
Sitting beside him, Daphne Greengrass, her hands in her lap, she eyed him while he read over her work. The only signs that she was nervous being the way the pointer finger of her left hand would occasionally twitch. The blond pureblood was still not used to having any friends besides Tracey and Blaise, and certainly not someone so willing to help her in one of the only subjects she was not good in.
It was Saturday morning, and as per the usual, Harry and his friends sat in the library doing there homework, or having their work revised to make it better. Sitting on his left, Susan Bones worked on revising her essay on the Switching Charm, which she had mastered just yesterday with Harry's help. Beside her, Neville and Terry worked on their Astromony and Charms homework respectively. Blaise was being helped with his Transfigurations essay by Hermione, and Hannah and Tracey were diligently working on their respective essays for Herbology.
Well, Tracey was mostly complaining about how much work they had, but at least she was still doing the work.
Harry was pleased to note that all of his friends were wearing the presents he bought for them, except Neville and Hermione, who got several rare saplings and a copy of his personal notebook filled with theories and modifications on all of the first year spells respectively. Blaise wore the expensive Rolex watch Harry bought, Hannah and Susan were wearing their anklet and bracelet respectively, and Daphne had the snake earrings in her ears.
Not much had happened since school started, the most exciting event being the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff game. It had been a hard fought match, much harder than when they had faced off against Slytherin. The Hufflepuff team had already seen Harry in action, and had decided that the best way to keep Gryffindor from winning was to keep him occupied.
It hadn't helped that Snape had been the referee during the game. He may have stopped being mean to Harry, but he still seemed to hate Gryffindor as a whole. The man had tried to do everything in his power to keep them from winning, including calling fouls on them even when they had not fouled.
Thankfully, Harry had gotten a lucky break and, despite outside interference from Hufflepuff, managed to claim the Snitch before his team was far enough behind in points that it wouldn't have mattered if he caught the Snitch or not. As things stood, they barely scraped out a win of 150 to 130 points.
“This is a good start,” Harry told Daphne after he finished reading the essay, “but you may want to add more detail when describing the brewing process. For example, the heating process between each time you add Salamander Blood to the potion is done because Salamander Blood is an extremely viscous fluid, and if you add too much too soon, without using the heat to let the blood fully mix into your brew, it will turn into a disgusting goop that could permanently damage your cauldron.”
“So you're saying I should write about why the process is important?” asked Daphne, drawing her left hand up to take a strand of blond hair that wiggled itself loose from the ponytail she kept it in and tuck it behind her ear.
“Yes,” Harry answered simply, “Many people don't know it, but Professor Snape is a stickler for the 'whys' and 'hows' when it comes to brewing potions. Adding just enough detail to describe something, but not informing him why will get you an A since you're in Slytherin, but if you want an O than it would be better to add more theory to your instructions.”
Daphne nodded, looked at her paper, and sighed.
“It looks like I'm going to have to write smaller,” she cast a glance at Harry and gave him a tiny smile, “Thank you.”
Harry smiled back.
“You're welcome.”
“I'm beginning to think you have plans on stealing my best friend from me, Harry,” Tracey's voice brought the two's attention away from each other. They turned to see the brunette smirking at them, arms crossed over her chest. “Should I be concerned or jealous?”
Daphne rolled her eyes at her friend while Harry smiled.
“Both, definitely both.” Harry gave the brunette Slytherin a blindingly brilliant smile. “After all, I am, what was it you said? Oh yes.” He snapped his fingers, as if just now remembering something. “'The most awesome person since ever' I believe were your words. Naturally, being the most awesome person since ever means Daphne is bound to like me more than you.”
Tracey Davis gaped at her raven-haired friend as her words on the train were thrown back at her. That had actually been the first thing she said upon seeing Harry. No doubt she was beginning to regret those words.
Several of their friends began snickering at her expense, causing her face to take on a tinge of pink. She tried casting a glare at Harry, but it wasn't very effective.
“I take every good thing I said about you back,” Tracey mumbled lowly, “you're just a prat.”
Harry just smiled at her.
“Sticks and stones, Trace. Sticks and stones.”
While Tracey pouted at him, and Daphne began picking on her best friend—much to said best friend's consternation—Harry decided to have a look around the library. As surprising as it may have seemed, he had yet to actually see what books the Hogwarts library had to offer, as he'd brought a number of books from home, and the book Professor McGonagall gave him had taken up a large portion of his time. And that said nothing about the amount of time and effort he'd put into practicing his combat spell work and Transfiguration.
While wandering down the isles, Harry ran into someone he had never in a million years expected to see in a library.
“Hagrid?” Harry blinked several times in surprise as the giant of a man nearly jumped out of his skin.
“'Arry!” Hagrid nearly shouted in surprise, earning a stern glare from Madam Pince. The giant didn't even seem to register the irate look, instead focusing on Harry. “What are ye doing here?”
“Homework with my friends,” Harry replied, somewhat amused by how nervous the man seemed. He wondered why. “And what about you? I don't think I've ever seen you in the library before.”
“Ah, oh,” Hagrid's expression was that of a child who just had his hand caught in a cookie jar. A very large child with a thick beard and hands large enough to crush an actual child. “You know, jus' gettin' some readin' material for meself. Anyways, I'd better be going now. Ye be sure to come visit me when ye can, ye hear?”
Harry frowned as he watched the man quickly walk away. That had been a surprisingly strange and suspicious meeting, and not just because Harry had been under the impression that Hagrid wasn't much of a reader. Perhaps that had been a common misconception on his part, but considering he had never seen the half-giant in the library before, his theory held credence. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what Hagrid, who had never shown an interest in books before now, could possibly want with a book on raising dragons.