The Pharaoh's Animagus

Summary: He had a tail! What happened? And what's with all the sand? There is a strange dog that won't leave him alone and even this strange man who likes to pat him on the head and talk to him. Life had definitely reached its most amusing point, even if he was recovering. After second year.

Disclaimer: I don't own the wonderful worlds of Harry Potter and Yu-Gi-Oh, but I do own the characters. MWAHAHA, they are mine! (not really)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, language and some boy/boy cuteness in the later chapters. You have been warned. Don't like, don't read.

Chapter 1

We all want something out of life. Money, fame, acceptance. All Harry Potter ever wanted was a family or someone he could rely on. Someone he could tell about his troubles and who would heal his wounds. Harry knew that this would never happen though as he bandaged his fresh wound and he winced slightly at the pain. He had only suffered at the hand of his caretakers since he was brought into the Dursley household almost twelve years ago.

He had experienced real family life last summer as he spend the last three weeks of August with the Weasleys and he understood how family life was supposed to be like. Mr and Mrs Weasley were great parents and had looked after him like no-one else had done, besides his own parents. Or so he had always imagined for he could not remember his parents at all. He had wished for it, ever since he was little, that he had been loved by his parents and maybe even by their friends.

Harry sighed and he turned to the soft hooting that was coming from the window. The bars had been replaced, serving as a reminder not to step out of line again. Hedwig had been locked outside and silently Harry was glad the Dursleys had done this. He shuddered at the thought of what would have happened had she been in his room with him. Maybe his uncle would have taken his destructive anger on her as well as him. The rescue of last summer had not been forgotten and he had been warned in the beginning that his uncle would not tolerate it again. The look in his uncle' eyes had smothered any protests Harry might have had. He had seen that look many times before he went to Hogwarts. He was now closely watched by his aunt and locked in his room over night.

Hedwig was tapping softly on the window and Harry's gaze softened. "I'm sorry girl," he whispered, his voice cracking. He swallowed, licking his lips only to taste the blood from his split lip. "Please go to Ron or Hermione. They will look after you." Her amber eyes were shining with something that looked like worry, but Harry just shook his head making him feel slightly dizzy. "Just go." He finished caring for his wounds and left his room.

… that evening …

"Boy!" Vernon entered Harry's room again. "We're leaving for Marge'." Harry looked up from where he had been staring at the ceiling. "Since you will be looking out for the house for the next two weeks, we thought we'd leave you with a present."

(I won't describe the scene)

Harry whimpered, clutching his broken arm to his chest. He hadn't heard the Dursleys leave, but judging by the silent house and the lack of light, Harry guessed that they had left hours ago. He squeezed his eyes shut again. Every time he tried to move, he could feel his broken ribs. It could have been worse of course. His legs didn't seem to be broken at least. Maybe a battered ankle, but his knees seemed to be in good condition still. Harry moved his back and neck, careful not to jolts his broken ribs, and breathed in relief as they felt normal. Painful but normal.

Harry whimpered again as he tried to move. It was then that he realised his voice sounded different. He tried to make another sound only to hear a dog growl. Harry's eyes flew open, the action dizzying him slightly. Something was wrong. Harry franticly looked around his room until he discovered his wardrobe door open. The mirror inside the door seemed to tell him a different story. Instead of a nearly thirteen year old boy, Harry saw a large black dog lying on his bedroom floor. Wow, I must have hit my head harder then I thought, Harry muttered, but instead of words a string of whines and growls came from the dog.

Harry sneezed, as did the dog. Harry tried to move his leg, yelping out in pain, as did the dog. Oh hell, Harry thought emitting another low whine. Of all the things my magic could do for me and it turned me into a dog! Couldn't it have been a cat or something, so I could fit through the cat flap? Harry wagged his tail and got up slowly. He swayed a little and tried to balance his weight so his broken arm and battered ankle got as little weight as possible. His stomach was growling and he sniffed the air to see if he had any food left in his room. Nothing at all. Not even a few scraps. Tired and in more pain then he was before Harry rested himself on the floor again. Darkness took him.

…

Harry awoke again, blinking slowly at the blurry vision. He lifted his head and saw that the dog in the mirror did the same again. He was still stuck in this form then. Something about this form of transfiguration seemed familiar to him and he drew in a rattling breath, winching from the pain. He had to try something though and so he tried to stand again. Harry whimpered at the pain the movement brought him but he had to push on. He hadn't survived Voldemort and a Basilisk only to give up now. Harry forced himself to stand with that thought and tried to not think about the pain as he moved to the door. He had tried to force his head through the cat flap. Why was he so damn big! I could have been anything, but no I had to be a Labrador! Harry growled and tried to knag at the door with his teeth.

It didn't work but he had to try something. Harry tried to push at his magic, but it seemed extremely weakened by keeping him alive. Maybe if he searched his mind, he could find out how he had become a dog. Then he could surely turn back into a human. It took him a while to find the feeling and as he pushed at the magic something happened that Harry hadn't expected. He shrunk and glowed. He felt his perspective move from middle high to down below.

When the glow faded Harry moved to look into his mirror once again. I never heard of this before, Harry thought as he stared at his body. A black cat with intense green eyes stared back at him. Harry let out a breath. At least he could get through the cat flap now. And so he moved, pushing the flap open with his head. Harry laughed silently to himself, feeling quite embarrassed as a low purr was heard.

The moment he had made it to the hallway, he felt his body change again. His perspective was at middle high again, but he didn't care about that at the moment. Harry sunk back to the floor, panting in exhaustion. His tongue was almost on the floor but he didn't care at the moment. He was too tired, the shift between his two forms had taken more energy out of him then he had imagined. The smells suddenly hit him. Blood, sweat, tears, seamen and food. Harry licked his nose in a desperate attempt to block the scent. He moved his paw slightly, but the smell of blood increased.

I can't keep lying here, Harry thought forcing himself to stand again. Harry crept down the stairs, careful lot to injure his arm/paw any further and not to fall down the stairs. Finally downstairs Harry moved towards the kitchen only to find himself in another predicament. How was he going to open the fridge or cupboards and eat anything that was sealed? With his injuries there was no way he would be able to do anything like that. Maybe he could find something outside the house. No-one would look up at a stray rummaging through the bins and the Dursleys always dumped out food without a second thought.

Harry looked at the door and he sighed. It was locked of course. The Dursleys would not return for another two weeks so they made sure Harry wouldn't be able to get out or have anyone getting in. Maybe if he pushed against his magic again then he would be able to open the door. It didn't seem like the Ministry was able to detect the magic he was using at the moment or they would have been here already. This was a relief as well as a pity. They would have been able to help him if they had come to check on him. Not that anyone ever did, but since he had gotten an official warning last year when Dobby smashed the pudding. Maybe that was different somehow…?

The nearly thirteen year old sighed, causing a pained whine to come out of his mouth. He didn't know enough of magic to say for sure what it was that caused Dobby' magic to be picked up by the Ministry, but worrying about it wouldn't solve his current situation. He closed his eyes and tried to follow the flow of magic within him. Pushing out towards the door and wishing for it to open, Harry couldn't believe his luck when he heard the door click and swing open. He didn't really care about the fact that he left the Dursley's house unlocked since everything he owned was in his old 'bedroom', locked away safely. He did try to close the door behind him though as he walked out into the garden.

If it had been during the day he would have caused the rumour mill of Privet Drive to run in full force, but the cool blessing darkness of the night welcomed Harry. The wizard made his way towards the road when he felt his body give out again. Panting, letting his tongue roll out of his mouth, Harry felt the stone of the pavement cool his heated body slightly. Maybe he should just stay here and wait for the morning. He closed his eyes, waiting for his erratic heartbeat to slow and his breathing to even.

Harry hadn't noticed it at first, but lying there on the cool pavement in the moonlight he became very aware of all the noises around him. An engine cut out and doors opening, raised voices before the doors slammed shut. Heavy footsteps before the sound of keys dropping. The clinking of keys again, one scraping in the lock successfully unlocking it. Once the door closed Harry wondered how far down the street it was and if he could get to them somehow. They might be able to help him by sending him to the hospital. Or a veterinarian at least.

The newly turned Animagus lifted his head, turning it towards the direction of where he had heard the sound from. He sighed softly, gathered all his strength and lifted himself up once again. Pushing his good legs to work, he started to limp in the direction of Magnolia Crescent. Harry whined softly as a few lighted darkened as he passed a few houses. The residence seemed to be going to bed, already in bed or away by the looks of it.

The journey to Magnolia Crescent, which was only a street away and would usually take no longer then a few minutes, now seemed to take forever. With each step pain shot through Harry and if it wasn't for his will to go on in the hope of finding help, he would have given up again. Once he finally reached Magnolia Crescent he quickly found the recently parked car. He could tell, because the warmth was radiating off it and it seemed to be leaking oil. He swayed his head towards the house it was parked in front off and couldn't help but let out a desperate whine. The lights had already been turned off!

Seeing the hope for help being ripped away from him again, Harry let himself drop painfully onto the sidewalk again, tears of desperation mixing into his fur. Why? Why did life do this to him again? Hadn't he suffered enough? They had taken his parents, his family! The only blood relative he had left hated him with a passion, submitting him to various degrees of torture and torment. Even in Hogwarts, where he thought to have found a home and family of friends, he hadn't been happy all the time. Especially last year when everyone had turned his back on him except for Ron and Hermione. He kept pushing on and on, coming so close to dead at the end of his school year only to nearly die again at the hands of his keepers. Why couldn't they just cut him some slack! He just wanted a family, someone who loved and cared for him because he was Harry, not because he was the Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die!

Tears were flowing freely now, mixing themselves with the sweat in his fur, stinging as they reached his wounds. So consumed by his own misery he hadn't noticed the approaching sound of paws until he heard a soft whine above him. Harry hadn't even realised he had closed his eyes until he opened them at the familiar sound. A large black dog, similar to him but a lot larger and Harry guessed older, was hovering over him. His stormy grey eyes were staring at him questioningly. Are you alright?

Harry whimpered softly and wagged his tail against the cold stone, unable to do much else. I'll be fine in the morning. Don't worry about me.

The larger dog nudged his head with its nose showing his concern. You don't look to good. What happened?

Harry let out a soft sigh, whimpering again at his painful ribs. It didn't matter anyway. Just couldn't keep my mouth shut as usual. He stared at those grey eyes, raising his head slightly. Now I'm stuck, so I took off. My keepers weren't home. Harry placed his head back on the cold stone, the chill finally making its way through his body and he couldn't help but shiver because of it. Closing his eyes, Harry wondered if he was going to die of hypothermia before he bled out when he felt something warm shift against his back. He held back a flinch at the sudden touch, welcoming the comforting warmth but still winching when the other dog moved against his wounds. You don't have to do this.

The other dog was now curled securely around him, tail resting near his hind legs over his stomach and head behind his own. Don't worry about it, I haven't got anywhere else to be anyway. Oh and you can call me Padfoot. What's your name young one?

Harry felt his mind get a little fuzzy, as if the name Padfoot should mean something to him, but he couldn't remember so he figured it wasn't important. He probably heard it in passing, maybe someone shouting it at the dog as he walked past. It could even further in his past he had once heard the name. He was good at remembering things like that, even if his memory failed him at other things. I don't think I have a name anymore. I've been called boy and freak for most of my life and even scar-head by my rival. When my friends tease me they call me a reckless fool and I've even been called the Golden Boy. You can call me anything you like.

He felt Padfoot shift behind him slightly, especially when he confessed being called a freak by the Dursleys. I would rather know your true name. The name your parents gave you.

Harry tried not to flinch when his new companion mentioned his parents. They were dead and not coming back, but he still missed them every day. Especially on days like these, when he wondered if they had loved him in the year that he was with them. He had no memories of them at all and he often wondered if he was ever going to find out more about them. No one had openly confessed to him that they had known them apart from Hagrid. Gifted people, he had called them. Kind-hearted but nothing else. He hadn't dared to ask anything else; he hadn't even asked any of his teachers if they might have known them.

Those two unknown people who warmed his heart every time he thought of them. When he had gazed upon those images of his parents in his first year, being separated from them by the cold mirror, he had wished desperately to fall through it. That he finally could be reunited with them. Or at least someone who he knew would care for him. And now this strange dog, Padfoot, had curled up behind him in an effort to take care of him. Or that's what he thought it was anyway. He had never felt like this before, not even with the Weasleys who had been there for him last summer. There was a difference between giving him food and really taking care of him though.

Harry hadn't noticed he had been sleeping until Padfoot woke him up again, nudging him softly with his nose. The young wizard opened one green eye and huffed softly, winching at the pain. A soft voice awoke him further. "Your companion woke up again I see." Harry raised his head slightly too finally noticed the strangest man kneeling next to him. He was wearing what Harry recognised as Egyptian clothing, though the names were lost on him. The extensive amount of jewellery was complimenting his tanned skin, but those crimson eyes reminded Harry slightly of Voldemort. The man before him had the strangest haircut, long black purplish spikes with blond bangs. He felt warm and powerful.

Feeling weaker then he had before he went to sleep Harry struggled to keep his head up and both eyes open. He had noticed that Padfoot was standing beside the strange human, looking at him with concerned grey eyes. You have to stay awake now. You've lost a lot of blood and if you go back to sleep I'm not sure if you'll wake up again.

Harry sighed softly. Surviving Voldemort and a Basilisk only to die at the hands of his uncle. Who is your friend? Is he your master?

Padfoot chuckled. I don't have a master. He sounded awfully smug about this fact. But he is here to help you. He'll be able to bring you to a doctor. He promised he would.

Humans often don't keep promises. Harry knew he sounded bitter and probably like an old man too, but he didn't care. He was going to die soon anyway, whether it was here or by the hand of others. But he would at least be able to see his parents again. He didn't notice the exchange between Padfoot and the human as he kept trying to keep himself awake. For a person/dog that was so ready to die, he was fighting rather hard to stay alive.

Pup, can you get up? The voice of his new friend cut trough his daze. Padfoot was nudging him with his nose again as if he was silently trying to encourage him to stand up. He tried, he really did, but his legs just didn't want to move at all. He let out a soft whine, winching at the pain this caused him.

"Shh, it's alright," the man said, stretch out a hand. This time Harry couldn't help but flinch, causing him to whimper again at the pain. The hand from the Egyptian froze mid air before withdrawing it. "I only want to help. I know a healer who is very skilled. She even healed me of many injuries. I'm sure she could help you if you want."

Please pup, let him help you. The pleading sound of his companion almost made him cry he sounded so desperate. He licked his nose and coughed softly. Harry swore he could taste blood. If you trust him. And that was the last thing he remembered.

A/N: read and review