The Spirit of Gryffindor

-A Harry Potter Fanfiction-

-Story Collection-

Episode 1 / Prologue: Whispers of Destiny

Rating: K+ (mentions of child abuse)

Genres: Friendship/Family

Set: Pre-Fifth Year (OotP)- Summer after Fourth Year (GoF).

Summary:

In the dead of night, Severus Snape rescues Harry Potter- who, he knew, would soon fly with Wings of Destiny.

Xx-xXx-Xx

A/N: Yes, I'm new to the fandom… Greetings to my fellow Gryffindors! Although I must say, nice to meet all you Slytherins and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws- yes, even the Slytherins… Come on, you can't all be bullies! XD But that aside, a quick note about this story- the very much majority will all take place in the Harry Potter timeline, going from here. This is something of a 'Prologue', so how it all gets set in motion. This chapter- or episode- starts during the summer after the fourth film/book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. This story is what I call a 'story collection', so one and two-shots (different plot points in standalone parts, for the majority) in, well, the same AU.

'The Spirit of Gryffindor' is my first HP fanfic, so please, take it easy if you'd like to review… Constructive criticism is welcomed, I hope I haven't made anyone too OOC… Although judging by all the caring Snape fics I've read, no one seems to mind. XD

Themes in this; the old cliché that Snape gets to know Harry a bit better, with some Animagus thrown in there, some good old Godfather and Godson bonding- oh you gotta love that stuff, it makes my little fangirl heart go crazy and mushy- but, I do think I've got some neat things planned… For one, has anyone (someone most likely has; Merlin, this fandom is HUGE) seen a fic that's added Lily to the Marauders? Something like that? Oh well. We'll see.

Normally, if I do a A/N, it'll be at the end of the chapter, but this is a more… 'In advance' thing, ya know? So now I'll shut up and let anyone who wants to read advance forth- oh, and, if it wasn't obvious, spoilers for GoF in this one.

-Crystallion12

-Xx-xXx-Xx

Harry Potter, Triwizard Champion and the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived', was a bit miserable. A few factors contributed to this.

His fourth year at Hogwarts would end soon, and he'd be tormented by another horrible summer with the Dursleys. The young wizard wasn't sure what would happen- the last time he'd seen them, well, it didn't end well. Nothing seemed to end well with them. He sighed, burdened. His fork stabbed his dinner.

Another thing had to be Cedric Diggory's death.

It hadn't been much of a surprise, honestly, that Lord Voldemort, or, rather, 'He-who-must-not-be-named' or in a quicker sentence, 'You-Know-Who', had yet again cheated death. At this stage, it was scary, creepy, and quite exasperating, just like how the wizarding world loved titles with lots of hyphens in them. But how did Voldemort do it? How did one continuously avoid their own demise?

This was ironic, considering Harry's own streak of near-death but not fatal encounters with danger. Danger must like him. The student gave an amused, yet bitter laugh at that.

His life had never been full of dancing unicorns, rainbows, and lollipops or the usual, for either muggles or magic folk such as those at Hogwarts- and really, he would have preferred the latter over the first, but in the nagging, wanting voice in the back of his head, he would have taken either.

What was it, that Sirius had once muttered darkly? 'You should be fretting about snogging girls and passing exams, not Basilisks and Dark Lords and a possible new death threat! Every year!'

Yes, that was it. Or, something similar to that. A smile did come to Harry's face now, thinking of his loving and hilariously over-protective godfather. And he knew that, even with all the drama and chaos of his life at Hogwarts, he wouldn't have changed many of the events. Sure, some things he wished didn't happen, but really, what was it compared to the friendships he had, magic, and the good moments?

The young Potter couldn't complain drastically… Yet.

He was still smiling. As long as he kept smiling, then he could be sure that not all was evil in the dark world of reality.

With a self-assuring nod, he lifted his head to smile and talk to his best friends, Hermione and Ron, forgetting, for now, about what he believed would be another disastrous summer ahead- but little did he know, (as cliché as that line is) that it would, instead, be not so bad- and it would come with a selective few interesting new additions to his life…

Xx-xXx-xX

"Professor Snape?"

Harry walked into the Dungeons, eyeing the room. Hadn't the Potions Master said to be here for eight 'o'clock sharp? Where was he?

He was startled and snapped to attention by the familiar, cold, and silky voice of Severus Snape behind him. "I am thoroughly surprised you came exactly on time. I thought you would be moping still."

The young Gryffindor bristled, sensing a reference that he didn't want to think about.

So, he was plain about how he went.

"What do you want me for, Professor? What did I do wrong?"

This caused the Potions Master to pause. In the few minutes before the boy had arrived, he had tried to cumulate how to explain Potter's summoning. He couldn't reveal anything. "There is a matter that we must discuss." The dark-cloaked man inspected the teenager who, honestly, he expected to look far more depressed than he really did. The haunted glint in his eyes did remain, however, and this he acknowledged to report to Dumbledore. That was, under the confusion and the undoubtable 'oh great. What did I do now that I don't know about?' look.

He continued, and chose his words with drawled out care. "There has been a change of plans, however. I have… Something, to attend to now, but I will be back by twenty past eight," he emphasised the time perhaps a little louder than he meant, earning an involuntary curious look from Potter, "and by then I expect you to have made that time efficient. You know the rules in my classroom." Harry nodded silently to the last phrase, deciding he'd rather not get into more trouble than he already was in.

After this ominous statement, the even more so mysterious teacher turned on his heel, black robes billowing as he most likely went into his private quarters, and used the floo system to travel to who knows where.

Harry sighed and looked around the classroom, searching for somewhere to sit and wait (that wouldn't be noticeable) until Snape returned.

There wasn't really one. With another sigh, the young wizard opted to lean against a wall.

It was cold in the dungeons, but somehow, without the presence of his classmates, cauldrons at work, or even the Professor himself, it was even less merciless. He shivered and pulled his robes closer to his body, frowning as he repeated his professor's words in his head. For once, they didn't feel malicious… And Harry felt they also didn't lack meaning. Why else would he put emphasis?

He wondered if he even was in trouble.

The man hadn't been snarling, and he hadn't asked him to do anything- on the rare occasion it had happened in the past, whenever Snape had left during a detention, he would simply growl at him a warning, and leave him to it alone.

Didn't make it any warmer in the room. Oddly enough, it felt colder.

Shivering, Harry stood, and randomly, he started to pace, occasionally glancing at the door the Potions Master had left through, watching in case he returned early. It'd be odd explaining why he was doing circles and squares around the room. Oh well, he thought, at least it might warm me up some.

And it still didn't make sense. He even tried repeating those vague words out loud, albeit a bit awkwardly.

It was by dumb luck he discovered Snape's intentions, and really, it didn't meet Snape's expected criteria in the end.

That coincidence- accident or not- was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, and also the boy-who-can't-stop-getting-injured-somehow, tripped, hit the wall, and got a half-ish-empty bottle smash directly on him. He yelped, falling with a thud, and the container shattered as it hit the ground. He took some deep breaths and groaned.

"If I'm in for detention, this is NOT going to help…" Harry muttered after he managed to find a towel and wipe off the wet, cold blue liquid from his clothes. Judging by the stinging sensation that was already throbbing through the fabric, it'd be worse later.

Especially if it had affected the long gash left by the glass on his left shoulder.

He gulped and stared at the blood staining through. It creeped him out that the blue liquid appeared to have completely avoided the crimson cut, as if it was forcibly unable to connect with it, but, he guessed it was a wizard potion. He sighed and decided that he'd spend the next few minutes trying to clean up his mess.

Wincing as his shoulder burned, he got down to his knees, and carefully, used the towel to absorb the potion until the floor was as it had been before- surprisingly, it was done easily within seconds. He gave a 'huh', and ran a hand through his hair, which had since been cut short after the Tournament, like it normally was. His decent day had turned to miserable day.

His emerald eyes eventually landed on the shattered fragments of glass. Not good. He searched the room for a trashcan and didn't find one, although granted, Snape would easily find out if he left it there.

The Potter sighed. Yay. Extra detentions for me, he thought grudgingly, and hurried to hide his mistake.

Xx-xXx-xX

"Potter!" Snape charged into the dungeons, and froze, seeing without close inspection something had happened, and not all was right; and Harry Potter was not present. He cursed in a hiss and looked around with slight panic. The precious boy was a trouble magnet, and Lily's son- maybe he was also James' son, too, but that didn't erase the mother from the equation, or the fact he did have a hint of concern for the Headmaster's Golden Boy.

Then, he noticed it. A missing bottle on the shelf, and the smell of a familiar potion in the air. Barely distinguishable, but it was there, and Harry Potter was renowned for causing trouble wherever he set foot. Even in situations such as these. Or, perhaps even more so. He cursed. He should have known…

"P-Professor!"

His head shot up, his eyes landing on that of the latest Triwizard Champion, who had come out of no-where. He was paler than before- so that confirmed what he feared.

"How long?" Snape hid his worry, leaving only the bitterness. Harry flinched, with one hand tugging the left side of his robes close. The teacher could have smirked. Did the foolish boy really think he could hide something like that from a Professor with the expertise of this room's features?

"I don't know what you're talking about, s-"

Severus groaned, grabbed Harry's right hand wrist, and ignoring the boy's shock and slightly annoyed remarks, tugged him into his Quarters, sitting him down on the comfortable plush coach. The man smirked when he saw the Boy-Who-Lived's shock visibly etched into his expression, unhinged. "Wait here, Mr. Potter. Try not to put pressure on the bodily area affected, or touch it due to your true Potter nature that allows you to stick your nose into trouble." Snape paused, wondering if the last combination of mutual concern and advice blended successfully with the drawling sneer at the end.

Judging by Potter's face, it was just a chaotic and scrambled jam of confusion and disbelief.

Xx-xXx-xX

"This may sting a bit for a short expanse of time," Severus explained, dabbing the green tinted, clear liquid onto a cotton pad. Harry watched silently, his head hanging, perhaps embarrassed or guilty. He paused to let the teenager lift his head and realise Snape was looking at him accordingly. "Potter, I need you to take off your robes and shirt so I can apply this to the wound."

The Potions Master didn't blame the boy when he bit his lip at his question, but it did give him a hidden frown.

While he didn't expect the boy to be the type who boasted about his muscles (which he knew would have been gained through Quidditch), that nervous, shaken look concerned him. He recognised it from his own past. But… It couldn't be. Not for Harry bloody Potter. Golden Boy. The Boy-Who-Lived. The modern legend of the wizarding world. Surely he was raised in luxury?

"Potter," He muttered, not wanting to provoke the clearly uncomfortable Gryffindor, "The potion does not work through clothing."

Harry nodded feebly, murmuring quietly, "Yes P… Professor…"

The next few moments, the teacher watched intensely with extreme care and silence. He prepared himself, should the worst reveal what he now feared. Harry Potter slipped out his wizarding robes, wincing at his shoulder's stab of pain, and tried not to look at the dark blue stains as he pulled his shirt over his head and closed his eyes. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath, and he simply hoped the Potions Master ignored the view of the Dursleys' abuse, just like how he ignored the rest of him on a regular basis.

And somewhat, at least to some part of him, he was surprised when Snape answered his wish.

"I will repeat what I said before," The head of Slytherin murmured, "That this will sting for a while. The potion that you broke and somehow got on yourself is not a friendly concoction, but it will not cause you fatal or permanent damage. It may scar- at least, for now, you can expect any part of your body affected to be stiff, sore, numb; temporarily paralysed, perhaps, within moments throughout the next week."

Harry nodded slightly, quite deeply regretting the fact he couldn't just stay still and be cold. He suddenly preferred the idea of just being cold.

"I also warn you- sudden changes in room temperature may also be quite painful."

Cold dungeon to the cosy, warm tower of Gryffindor?

Not good.

The young Gryffindor restrained a distressed moan. He knew he shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning, he knew it.

"Potter. You will not like this."

Harry opened his mouth to utter a retort and it almost turned into a scream. He bit it down and almost choked on the agony, if it were possible.

He shuddered and looked to his Potions Professor, who briefly met his gaze while gently wiping away the spilt liquid over left pectoral muscle, shoulder, and down his back slightly. It did come off swiftly and easily, but the stone floor certainly couldn't feel what he felt- the sting and burn in his skin, of what he believed could be a relatively harmless and simple potion some dozen minutes ago.

"You… Said… It would… Sting… A bit…!"

Despite it only being a dab of a small cotton pad that graced over the cut, it still hurt like the devil. Perhaps not as severe as something like a Cruciatus Curse, but still in the extreme. He barely restrained his cries, and for a moment in his haze, he swore he could see a sad or worried look to the normally cold and passive Professor's expression.

"I did-" Severus muttered, "-And I may have underestimated this."

"Great!"

Sarcasm appeared to be Potter's other best friend, Snape decided. Harry gritted his teeth, giving a glance of gratitude when it was over, letting him sink into the soft couch. His back and chest were on fire- his shoulder numb. In full honesty, the Professor had been aware of the healing potions' non-friendly side effects; he had faced them himself in his younger days by the morbid taste of clumsiness.

Severus released a long breath, and looked to the young Gryffindor. "Are you cold?" He asked briskly.

Harry slightly nodded, and stared up at the man, wondering what was going through his head. Part of him was almost frantic to escape, and scurry back to his common room, and another part didn't care and wanted to fall asleep, without delay.

The Professor made the decision for him. He found a blanket, draping it over him before handing him a small flask. "The potion will help you rest, and dim the pain. I will be in my office, so if you decide you have found trouble yet again, Mister Potter, you may come and get me."

Briefly, the Boy-Who-Lived was astonished. He was to stay here?

"Seriously, Potter. I am not trying to intensify the outcome of your foolishness by sending you off."

And with that, Snape exited, leaving The-Boy-Who-Lived quite baffled.

Xx-xXx-xX

Harry awoke to a puzzling sight- resting, snuggled into an unfamiliar couch in what must have been a teacher's room.

"Do you not remember last night's events, Potter?"

He blinked, breath caught in his throat, seeing none other than Severus Snape standing over him, one curved eyebrow raised. He almost looked amused, he realised, and awkwardly, his hand clutched the blanket. "N… Not really, Sir…"

"Humph. Well, I won't repeat, so sit still while I explain." The ex-Death Eater sat, proceeding to recount the previous events, and tending to the teenager's injuries. Harry sat and listened silently throughout, slightly more understanding. "Do you understand?" He asked at last, and the Golden-Boy nodded.

"I do, Professor, but…"

"Go on."

He took a deep breath.

"Why did you call me here… In the first place? Was I- am I- in trouble?"

There was a heavy sigh, and Harry frowned, watching as Snape placed a book in front of him. "Animagi…? What about them- Why? I don't understand- Hold on, isn't this something that would be in the Restricted section…?!"

"You may understand," Snape said, "If you'll let me explain."

The fourth-year looked slightly bashful at this, and Severus smirked before continuing. "I called you here in hope your rude nosy curiosity would lead you to find this, which, while not quite as I anticipated, has come to. Although now, I realise I probably should have guessed it may happen." He paused briefly to contemplate the boy's surprise, at the end with some bitter amusement that he wouldn't deny. He knew he was a troublesome boy. "Slytherins are cunning, often quick to plans, Potter. Didn't you know? But that aside, the summer holidays are drawing near. You know this, and, you also know what you dread in that time."

Harry felt meek, small, and nervous. Snape knew, and the reference didn't need to be voiced aloud. He stared at the blankets, but nodded in response.

"There are two months approximately over this time period- and only one is required to complete the Animagus process."

He blinked at him, the outcome sinking in. Professor Snape smirked.

"You'll need the book."

Xx-xXx-xX

Ducking his head slightly as he walked by an ex-Death Eater's side, Harry Potter was silent, making their way to the Hogsmeade Station. Severus Snape was flanking on his left, face as still as ever, and Harry's friends were on his other side.

"Remember, Potter," Snape drawled out, murmuring quietly so only the Golden Trio could hear. "For a full month. Approximately three hours before you must start the potion with the Mandrake Leaf, I will collect you from Privet Drive. You have the book, but I will remind you in person once more. Do not remove that leaf for anything. Eating, sleeping, and so on. You are prepared for the month with the supplies and enchantments Professor McGonagall and I supplied you with. The Dursleys will not disturb you."

Harry nodded. He had, of course, made Hermione and Ron aware of the decision, as was the Headmaster, the Gryffindor Head of House, and many of the Professors.

"I will see you halfway into the summer, Mr. Potter." Snape finally said curtly, coming to a halt before the station.

"Okay… Professor Snape? Thanks… For… You know. Everything."

The man nodded, watching silently as the boy made his departure alongside his loyal Gryffindor friends once they had said their goodbyes.

Snape sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. He would house James- and Lily's- son while he went through the stages of becoming an Animagus, and he was more than aware of just what upcoming madness he had dragged himself into.

Damn you, Albus.

Xx-xXx-xX

He released a sigh, but didn't open his mouth.

Laid on his bed in his room, Harry finally decided to submit and say this was harder than he had originally thought. Chanting the necessary incantation frequently was fine- it was only like talking to himself, which he did any way (although as of the last few years, he had Hedwig to confide and talk to). Maybe after a few days it became a bit annoying, however. He leaned back, deciding to occupy his boredom by yet again moving the leaf in his mouth around with his tongue absent-mindedly.

It was a vain attempt to cease said boredom.

Harry looked up as his pet Snowy Owl, Hedwig, hooted, ruffling her feathers from within her cage. She gazed at him with her intelligent yellow eyes, as if asking what troubled him.

Glancing at the door, Harry contemplated if he could let her out. Snape had said they wouldn't disturb him… He'd risk it. Besides, it was late at night; they were probably snoring their heads off by now.

Smiling a little, the boy got up and strode over to Hedwig. Putting a finger to his lips to ask her to be quiet, he unlatched her cage and offered his arm. She gave a quiet, happy chirp, nipping lightly at a finger. The Snowy Owl shuffled her wings, stepping onto his offered perch. He walked back to his bed, sitting cross-legged on it, smiling at her as he stroked the fluffy, silky, milky-coloured feathers of her chest that held a silvery sheen from the moonlight's rays.

He wanted to explain it to her, but chose against it. Oh well. He would be able to tell her another time- soon, hopefully. It was like this that the boy and his owl stayed for the next few days, mostly silent in each other's company.

Harry began to feel hunger starting to creep up on him, and for once, was grateful he had experience with the feeling.

An upside, however, was that Snape's words had held steadfast. He hadn't seen his dreadful relatives ever since they had silently driven back the residence, which he was grateful for as he had taken his stuff and hid in Dudley's second room, they had reluctantly sorted out for him after his first year at Hogwarts.

Harry sighed. Not much longer, he reminded himself mentally. And I'll be out of here.

Xx-xXx-xX

"Wake up, and come, Potter."

A silky, blatant voice suddenly awoke Harry.

Gasping, his hand quickly grasped his wand. He bolted up in his bed, panicked eyes darting around the dark room that was lit by Professor Snape's lumos.

Wait… What?

"Is there something wrong, Mister Potter? Did you forget when I said I would come?"

Harry cursed under his breath and shook his head, which was dizzy. The mandrake leaf remained in his mouth, although it had been charmed so he couldn't swallow it, for precaution. This made him silently grateful- he could swallow a fair couple times in his terrible nightmares. Despite the fact, a rather amusingly (at some times, it was also tiring) motherly, installed protective streak in Professor McGonagall had caused her to have several other charms added to it for her 'little roaring cub'.

Harry hadn't quite paid attention to that- something about the leaf reminding him of the incantation times, allowing him to eat and drink. Not that Harry had done much eating, but he wouldn't let that slip.

Getting out of bed, he frowned. "The Dursleys-"

"-Are unaware of this transaction. When they wake up, they'll believe you have left for some reason. To the Weasleys, perhaps, or back early to Hogwarts. Their petty thoughts matter not to me, and they shouldn't to you, either. I trust your trunk is ready? Good. You still have some brains left. Get dressed and take your owl as well- and, if not already, any belongings you wish to take with you from this wretched place. You will not be returning here again."

Harry blinked as Snape walked back down the stairs. Sighing, he bustled Hedwig into her cage, and dressed quickly before heading down with his trunk.

The Potions Master, as always, was not one to waste time. He flung the front door open, leaving it open for the student to follow into the deserted night.

Said Gryffindor stared back at the house, finally realising that if what he believed about the Professor's last sentence was true, then it was also the last time he'd ever step foot into the Dursley's home again.

Xx-xXx-xX

The youngest Champion of the Triwizard Tournament swallowed. Sweat trickled down his forehead, but was heavier on his chest, his shirt damp. His shoulders racked with shivers, his breathing heavy but quiet. He glanced at the dark-cloaked man standing by the doors of the huge, empty room.

"Try again," Snape encouraged. "I could have sworn I saw something different there. If I am incorrect, we can finish here for today."

The smooth, silky voice that had accompanied him for the last eight days was now snappier than earlier that afternoon, but he still sounded softer than he had once been.

He'd been like that ever since he had seen the orphan for what his home life truly had been- and somehow, Harry forgave him. That didn't mean that, at times, he didn't still glare at the Hogwarts Professor, but it was only usually when either were tired or stressed. Right now, he considered it to be one of those times, but if the man was right, he'd instead have something to celebrate and excitedly tell- or maybe even show- Hedwig, who had become quite close with him in recent days. He wondered why, and Snape had briefly possessed a curious, thoughtful expression. The Golden Boy then noticed the ex-Death Eater was waiting with a tapping foot, and embarrassed, he began to prepare himself for an attempted transformation.

But I'm tired… Harry tried to ignore that little voice in his head.

Concentrating his mind, he once again got down on his hands and knees- on all fours- and tried to relax his muscles. They had become tight and quivering since the hour had begun, aching for rest.

And you got it- Harry grunted in his head, -for half an hour, at 3. Beginning the second day when Harry arrived at Snape's settlement, he had been given a timetable for the lessons:

On Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, it went from 2 PM to 5 PM; three hours in the room of 'hard work, sweat, and a whiny Potter' with a 'completely unnecessary, Dumbledore suggested' half hour break at quarter past three. On Wednesday, it went from 2:30 PM to 4:15 PM, but without a break; instead he had a longer amount of time to freely occupy himself and rest his body. On Fridays, however, his training session lasted from 11:45 PM to 5:30 PM, with three fifteen-minute breaks- one at 1 PM, another at 2:30 PM, and the last at 4 PM.

Today, it was a Thursday, giving him a decent experience. He had woken at eleven in the morning, had breakfast, and studied a bit in his room, sat outside with Hedwig, and then proceeded to the room for his usual routine. Snape had been quite forward, surprisingly, with the lesson- no reading or taking quizzes today- instead, letting him practise some flexibility (you never knew what animal you'd be, it could be anything) and getting him to try and summon what Animagus forming he could.

He had fifteen minutes to warm up in each lesson, before Snape proceeded with exercises and activities that would help him learn about his Animagus and, what it may be, or what certain aspects came through.

His weekends had half an hour each of quick revision, which he could do at any time, except for an hour before dinner and after, or after curfew, which was at 9:45 PM. Not that he went to bed for another hour or so, usually… Actually- He mused, glancing at his Professor waiting and watching patiently, Snape probably figured that for himself… And did so deliberately. Typical.

"Well?"

He focused his gaze on the man, frowning slightly- his glasses must be smudged, Snape almost looked blurry at the edges.

"Oh… Eh… Sorry. I was distracted. Sorry- but- alright, one moment… Professor Snape?"

His response was sharp and clear. "Yes?"

"You're blurry… Oh… Hold on… You're not now- wait- no, you're fuzzy again…"

The Potions Master was slightly ticked. Of all the things to complain about, when concentration was key- if he hadn't suddenly realised why the boy's vision was so bizarre, he was sure that a good lashing of the tongue would have rolled out. But, alas, he did see it- how Harry's green eyes changed, the bright green emeralds expanding into the full circle of his eye, which left its more ovular shape of a human, into a sphere with sharp corners on either side- and the black circles in their centre became compact, larger and forming the pupils of a bird.

Snape found himself somewhat astounded, although, he wasn't sure why in that very moment.

Quietly bending down, he gently pulled off Harry's glasses- guessing he wouldn't need them.

"Snape-! I can- what the- whoa- my glasses- but- but I can SEE!" The Boy-Who-Lived was unquestionably shocked. "Oh Merlin… What just happened?! Snape? What just happened to me?!"

He rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, noting with another wave of confusion that he could feel slightly strengthened bone and muscle there- meaning that he had to have forelegs in his Animagus form, or else, like the other muscles of his body did at the first few attempts, they would have dimmed out and become weaker. They wouldn't stay like that while fully human, of course, but this rose many questions- what four-legged creatures had the eyes of the winged creatures whom soared the skies graciously?

"Relax, Harry," He murmured, and stared into those intelligent, green eyes that yet remained like Lily's. He marvelled how, despite being that of a creature not human, they always held that truth.

"It's normal for things like this to happen- especially if you are a bird of sorts, as your eyes now resemble perhaps an owl- or even something else, I can't be sure. They have very good vision- so you should, too. You've seen McGonagall as a cat, no? You must have noticed she has no need for spectacles, but their presence remains in markings… I wonder if it will be the same for you."

Calmed, reassured he hadn't suddenly gone through something awful, the teenager let his fear inch away, smiling as he looked at Snape in what he considered real high-definition.

Even the tiniest details, such as an amiss speck of dirt, or a stray bead of sweat, were plain to his new vision. The colours were vibrant and truer than ever- while those stayed relatively the same, and blue didn't become yellow or sunset orange like blood, he realised there were a lot more shades of the rainbow than he thought he had once known. It was a whole new experience, a fluttering and wild sensation in his chest- his aching chest, but what did he care when he could see again? And like this?

"I see you are quite enjoying this newfound sensation, Potter… But perhaps it is time we close up for this evening, and settle down for dinner?"

Harry hesitated, but nodded. He could try it again later that night, and show Hedwig.

"Okay… Just please don't tell me we're having Sushi again tonight..."

"What, you don't like it, Potter?"

"Damn it…"

A smirk grew on Severus' face. Harry decided, in an instant, he shouldn't have said that.

Xx-xXx-xX

Friday morning. Harry awoke to the smell of bacon cooking from downstairs, which was as pleasant as ever- he had always had to cook for the Dursleys all his life, so when Snape had strongly told him that he didn't have that responsibility from day one, Harry had later realised how much he appreciated it. Sometimes Snape would take up chef, and others, when he wasn't available or too tired, the kindly House Elves would instead.

Glancing at the time, he saw it was just past ten in the morning.

He then grinned, smoothing down the soft feathers in-between his fingers. The young man's hand rested on a snoozing Hedwig's soft back, her wings laid over his chest like she was hugging him- maybe it was even her imitation of one.

She gave a content sound, a humming, one talon brushing over his bare skin. He smiled, wondering what the Snowy Owl was dreaming about. She had awoken from her previous slumber, in the early morning, while it was still dark (she had recently become accustomed to sleeping all the time while staying in the same house as the fat, nasty muggle, and his family- but, thankfully, she was slowly coming out of it, as was natural) to see her owner in a very distressed state, and had immediately flown over and plopped down on his bed to wake and comfort Harry. She could sense his change of mind and heart, how he kept concealed and secretly mourned over tragic, terrible things- the passing of 'Cedric', as he had told her quietly some time ago. If no one was there to truly give her Harry a gentle moment, she would have to do.

"Morning, Hedwig," He murmured. Harry then began thinking about last night, before he had slept.

Beckoning the owl over, he had shown her how he now had the eyes of birds- her reaction had been rather hilarious.

First, she had squawked, somewhat loudly. He was surprised that Snape hadn't woken up, but then again, maybe he wasn't even asleep at that hour. She had then opened her wings, stuck between panic and confusion. It had been amusing, watching her hop around with flapping wings, debating whether she should retrieve that cloaked man, 'Snape', find one of those people that aided the strange or injured, or, set back down and stare at Harry until he told her she must be hallucinating.

Of course, then, Harry did explain it, before wondering aloud to her what he might be in full transformation- a bird, probably, considering recent events, but he felt it wasn't that…

After all, it didn't feel like that later in Friday's long lesson.

If anything, it felt like he was a big and hulking beast on two golden hind-paws, and silver talons to the front, which started to show that very day.

Xx-xXx-xX

On a pleasant, casual Summer Sunday morning, Severus Snape never thought, in all his lifetime, he'd be having this conversation, with one of his old childhood bullies, who now also happened to be the first to ever escape the dreaded Azkaban, and an unregistered Animagus himself- both had the utmost drastic and dramatic tales to tell, but that was not why they sat across from each other at a table, staring each other down before Snape coolly explained. Half an hour or so later, he finished and went silent.

"My little Pup," Sirius proudly murmured, his eyes slightly misty, "Becoming a Animagus like me and his father… I would have never imagined…"

Snape glared, but much to his annoyance, he felt it wasn't as cold and malice-filled as it once had been. Albus had given them both a long talk about forgiving old, now silly-grudges. Well, if the mutt could do it, so could Severus.

While the escapee took a silent moment to delve into tears and to think sentimental, mushy things, Severus was grudgingly allowing Black happiness- after so much time in Azkaban, and innocent all along, anyone would deserve to at least smile. And when both returned to the manor, he had silently decided he would just keep his insults shut and stay on Sirius' 'mutual respect' side, even if it was just for Harry. It had, though, been many years. And so many ground-breaking changes had formed for each party since, so it wasn't that fair to honey coat it… Perhaps Albus was right. Again. Old coot…

"Do we know what he is yet?"

The ex-convict snapped him out his stupor. Looking at the man, he could see that the man wasn't like the others; expecting to be wowed and all admiring.

No, it was more than the desire to be proud, and for the new Animagus to be in turn- and even if Harry miraculously, somehow, turned into a fluffy white bunny in the end, Sirius would probably still be smothering him with all sorts of affection and praise.

Excitement had also brewed with concern and sensibility- he really did care for his godson, Snape had to hand him that.

"No," Snape replied silkily at last, and no trace of a lie stood. "I am not certain what Mr. Potter's Animagus form will be- and this is one of the reasons I came here, and to request you to return with me."

Sirius frowned. "What's that meant to mean?"

Across from the Marauder, Severus grunted. As thick headed as ever, he wanted to mutter, instead secluding it to his thoughts.

"I'll first tell you what I have seen- a bird's keen eyes, the slight sloping of a nose that could be a beak, and, a four-legged, powerful structure. I believe it will have two paws, like that of a big cat, while its forefeet will be talons." Snape paused- for once, the Marauder was fully absorbed in what old 'Snivellus' had to say. "For this, I believe- with the fact taken into consideration just how baffling it is- Harry Potter may have the Animagus form of what his own Hogwarts House is named after."

"A… A Griffin…? But- what? That's never been recorded- ever-"

He was met with a snort. "I know that, Black. Perhaps, the glorious 'Boy-Who-Lived' has found another reason to be admired and ogled at, but at least this one he's seriously had to work at. But, at least, he's staying as loyal as Gryffindors get, even if it wasn't precisely intentional…"

"Now-" Snape didn't give him a chance to interrupt, "-I shall explain the reasons."

"For a start, you are a Animagus yourself, one with the time and dedication to do this- you have the personal experience and preferences- and, he trusts you, far more than he ever will for me," He paused- and allowed that to sink in, earning a slight pang in his heart. "That, and he needs the company, and moral support any ways, regardless of the Animagus factor. He seems to trust and confide a lot in his owl, she was there for him each time he woke up screaming from those blasted nightmares. But- Hedwig- and I hope that is correct- cannot offer everything... I believe Voldemort's return, and the death of Cedric Diggory struck him hard, and he has not quite recovered- not fully. Also, if I am not correct, he has not yet enjoyed a summer vacation very much- do you believe would he prefer it if you were there?"

Sirius nodded slowly- he appeared deep in thought, stroking his jawline. He glanced up at the Potions Master.

"I'm coming. When do we leave?"

Xx-xXx-xX

To say, point blankly, Harry hadn't expected his Godfather, Sirius Black, to show up at the front door, when he went to answer it.

Upon seeing Snape, he nodded, began to say 'I was wondering where you were off to- we're late for our lesson' when his eyes landed on the handsome, smiling Marauder behind him. For a moment, he didn't even dare breathe, as if it was a trick, before he said something rather stupid in his stunned state.

"I thought you didn't like checker shirts?"

At this, Sirius promptly burst into laughter. Pure, unrestrained laughter. Even Snape, while shaking his head with an eye roll, cracked a rare smile.

Harry turned pink, wondering if he suddenly looked like Ron. "Whoops…"

"I see how serious our situation is, now, Snivellus," Sirius said with a grin, "Poor Harry can't even greet me properly? What did you do to him?"

Plainly, although he did seem to have merit in his tone, "I have no idea."

"Awww…"

Harry grinned and opened the door properly, letting the two men inside- the manor did not belong to Snape, Harry believed, but they could reside within it. For a moment, he believed he spotted a look of recognition in his godfather's eyes, but it was completely silenced- including their mouths, which then hung wide open at Snape's next comment.

"Lighten up, Black… Why so sirius?"

They stared.

The Potions Master smirked, turning to exit through a door to his left. "What now? Can't a wizard just tell a joke these days?" He made a tut-tut sound of disapproval, as if he simply could not believe it.

"A cheesy pun, more like, served with a side of my surname used with irony," Sirius managed to mutter, still in disbelief.

"Well, if you're done gaping, I do believe I'll leave you two be for now." Snape paused.

"And Black, no coddling Potter too much- he better not be a cuddly marshmallow who likes to play Quidditch and point a stick at things by dinner."

"…Well, that does make me wonder if I'd be a tasty dessert, actually."

Xx-xXx-xX

The rest of that day, surprisingly, was spent in peace. Snape busied himself with his potions, and Harry spent some much-needed time with his godfather. His Monday lesson had been cancelled- and Sirius would be joining him for all lessons ahead, as well as the shorter lesson on the next day, where Snape was unsure if he would be able to join them. It had slightly disappointed Harry, as he had grown used to the Professor's silky voice guiding him through the activities.

However, looking at Sirius when the teenager made a rather cheesy joke (that was their new thing, now) and seeing him merrily laugh, his own eyes sparkled- no, he had Sirius. Either were good, although, just in brutal honesty, he did like his godfather more. That only made sense, he knew.

"So," Sirius began, the two walking side by side in the lush gardens. The green leaves were bright and rustled to the wind gently, which swept around them like his invisibility cloak. Harry remembered with a smile all he'd done with that. "Have you had any ideas what your Animagus Code-Name shall be?"

"Sirius!" Harry laughed; he had sensed that question would pop up somewhere.

"It's completely necessary."

He rolled his eyes.

"Uhuh… But Sirius, do take note- this one Harry Potter has yet to even complete his little 'transaction', and he is not quite an 'Animagus' yet. Forgive me for the delays. Have a good evening." He did a mock little bow, and both chuckling, he followed Black further down the winding paths. A tall, white-marble, large fountain rested in the centre of the gardens, and a bench was just in front of it. Leading his deceased friends' child to it, they sat, watching the fountain and the fine waterfalls of water from it.

Finally, the older of the two men spoke. "Have you been happy here, Harry?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived seemed a little taken back by the question, he required a moment to think about it- was he happy here?

"I… Well, yes- I am- but- it's complicated, but-" Seeing his godfather's confusion, he hung his head a little and muttered, "It's complicated…" Harry paused before looking back to the fountain, not meeting those grey eyes that would definitely hold concern and confusion. He sighed deeply. "I'm not good at explaining… My feelings, Sirius… And except for Ron and Hermione, I've never… Really had anyone to… It's always been labelled to others as a 'bother' and 'nuisance'- that's what's drilled into my head."

"Harry, what do you mean? You've never- what about your Aunt and Uncle?"

There was a deadly, quiet tone to Sirius' voice. He knew what would come if he said that the Dursleys were the worst people he had ever known, as a family- tying just with the Malfoys, although he considered them a bit different- Draco's father was very likely to be evil, Uncle Vernon seemed more like an abusive, raging dementor wearing layer over layer of blubber and fat… And, the Dursleys were muggles; they shouldn't even be able to touch him, let alone scar him so badly.

"I don't like to talk about that," He said softly, "But I do know how I've felt since Snape took me away from them."

"At first…" Harry took a deep breath- still not looking at his godfather, he concluded that the man wouldn't insist on the previous topic avoided, instead sitting in silence to listen. He decided to be relieved. "I was just nervous and confused, at first. Jumpy and nervous, I think. Snape has always been the 'complete git' type of guy and has hated everything about me, until now- but since that night I broke one of his potions on me, he's changed, in a way. I called it tolerable, until I… I started to enjoy his company. He wasn't always… Just… Cold. He didn't… I don't think he hates me anymore… The glares I once sent him- not that I don't still get annoyed with him sometimes- when he sent harsh criticism in lessons, it turned into some quiet sit-downs where he'd do his best to help, and I'd listen."

"My godson, Harry Potter… Listening… And to Snape. Dear lord, the apocalypse is here."

Harry cracked a smile, finally looking at Sirius Black. The man was smiling weakly, although there were a few tears prickling his eyes, for whatever reason.

"I guess… I guess I just took the risk to let him in, if for help. I don't really like help, I can't stand being a bother or a nuisance or- well, you get the idea…"

Sirius looked troubled. "I do…" But that was all he said.

Wondering briefly if it was a cue to continue, Harry suddenly felt uncomfortable. "It's not been too long since then… A bit over a week… And he says I've made some good progress so far."

"You have," Sirius responded, ruffling his jet-black hair fondly. "I'm so proud of you, Prongslet."

Harry felt his heart glow. Smiling with watery eyes, which he found embarrassing but didn't hide, he sniffed and shivered as his godfather's warm, gentle hand found its way to rest on Harry's. Before he knew it, they were locked in embrace, Harry quite frankly snuggled as far as he could, sniffing with tears slipping freely from his eyes. Sirius rubbed his back, rocked him gently and stroked his dark, unruly hair.

Everything will be all right, Sirius thought, smiling down at the boy's head as he murmured.

"It's going to be all right, Pup… I promise."

Xx-xXx-xX