The nearly full moon shown down that night upon another figure lying anxiously on his bed. The man whimpered under its light, glaring towards the orb in defiant fury, a sharp contrast to the whimpers that continued to escape his throat. A second man reached out his hand with hesitant, jerky movements to run dirty fingers through the other’s hair. He continued this as well as crooning a soft lullaby despite the way the other man would occasionally turn his head to snap at his fingers. This went on for a while until someone else came into the room.

The first two figure’s claim to humanity was dubious. This third creature also stood upon two legs with two arms and opposable thumbs but despite this no one could possibly think it human. It’s ears were long and pointed, not quite those of a beast but the resemblance was obvious. Its hair was thick and wild, though surprisingly soft in appearance, and its stature was bulky and only barely erect.  The fingernails were yellow and pointed, and its smile held fangs. But the most obvious deviance from humanity was its eyes. They were the eyes of a beast, green and feral. Altogether, it might remind one of a man caught in the middle of his transformation into a beast. The standing figure ducked subserviently before it, backing away. The other made no notice of it at all, his eyes still upon the moon.

The creature walked in slowly, like a hunter stalking its prey. It ignored the man cowering in the shadows, instead looking intently upon the other lying upon the bed. It reached out a clawed hand and ran it over the manacles.

“Tsk, tsk,” it muttered in a guttural growl, “Are these really nessessary?”

“I had to s-secure him…” the cowering one answered, but the creature was already pulling the manacles free. At first the man didn’t even seem to notice, nor did he move. The creature waited. Suddenly, the man bolted upright, leaping away from the bed and in the general direction of the cowering man. The man squeaked in fright and melted away into the shadows, but despite his bid to escape the other man soon came up again with a rat tightly clutched between his fingers. The creature laughed as he watched them, still not making any move. The rat squirmed in the others grip before suddenly transforming back into a man, forcing the other to drop him.

“W-wormt-t-t-t,” the man growled, looking half feral himself. The one called Wormtail fled behind the creature. Now, at last, the man turned to look at it. He shuddered but did not cower at the sight.

“Welcome, little brother,” the creature said, “I am glad to see your strength returning.”

“Th-the moon,” the man answered, his voice haunted, “It-t…” But then his eyes narrowed upon the creature.  “I am not your broth-ther.”

“Hasn’t your little rat friend told you?” the creature asked, sounding slightly amused, “Poor little puppy, not knowing what you are. But you are my brother. And when the full moon comes, we will hunt together, and you will become one of us. You are nubis’wi!” And then, not bothering with more talk, it stalked out of the room, followed shortly by Wormtail.

“The shackles!” Wormtail cried with alarm, “He will escape!” The creature laughed but otherwise didn’t bother to answer. They continued in silence down the empty halls for a ways. But finally the other deigned to speak.

“Why would I wish to chain my brother?” it asked, its voice gruff and dangerous, “We who are meant to run free, now, while the moon calls to us? In a few days, he will no longer wish to leave.”

“B-but,” the rat stuttered, “What if he runs to Hogwarts? Y-you said, you have a wolf there. Y-you said, you wanted the cub. H-he could stop you!”

“He won’t run,” the creature answered, “He can’t. There are more than shackles holding him here, just as we let you run free but only where we let you. Even if he fled us all, he knows nothing. No, it is you who are afraid, you who would imprison my brother.” The creature growled then, low in his throat and Wormtail scampered away, not daring to say more.

In his room, the recently freed man looked warily about his room before he tried the door. He was surprised to find it open. Grinning triumphantly, he left his prison for the cold empty halls, instinctively walking in the opposite direction the others had taken. But his limbs were still feeble, without the moon on him he felt his strength draining. Feeling that he was going too slow, he finally dropped down onto all fours, reaching for his animagus form.  What came was not what he expected.

The dog inside him came quickly, more quickly than ever before, but something was changed. He had always been large and black and a dog, easily mistaken for a grim, but still he was a dog. Now, he felt sleeker somehow, less clumsy. He ran down the hall, sensing the presence of wolves, but no matter which way he turned, he couldn’t seem to track the way out. All too quickly, even on all fours he felt his strength draining. The moon was setting as morning came. Finally, just as the first rosy rays of the sun penetrated the hallway, he had to rest. And that was where the others found him.

He smelt them before he saw them, the wolves he had sensed all along. But the creatures that rounded the corner to greet him were not like any wolves he had ever seen. They were large and black and sleek, and their eyes held an intelligence that no wolf could ever know. If the man hadn’t been sure that the moon was yet to be full, that it was in fact morning, he would probably have taken them all for werewolves. One of them spoke into his head.

‘Welcome, little brother,” it whispered, “Come, meet your pack.” The man whimpered but did not run. They looked dangerous and dark, but his strangely honed senses did not feel any danger from them. His pack. It was wrong, and yet it felt right. Cautiously, he approached them and as he did, he saw for the first time that a wolf could grin, albeit with far too many teeth.

At the same time, many miles away, Severus walked with Harry to his first class. Never in his life had Harry spent a first day of school with a parent of any sort walking him to his class. His aunt had only ever gone with Dudley and his uncle never went to a school at all if he could help it. And of course Harry’s real parents had died long before any sort of schooling would be an issue. So the feeling of utter embarrassment mixed with relief that he wasn’t alone was a very new feeling, though one Harry was rapidly becoming accustomed to.

He had Transfiguration first thing that morning, along with Hermione and Ron but not Neville. Hermione, like normal, was already there, going over last year’s notes while the current book was open in front of her. At least, she was making the attempt. For once, Ron was early as well and doing his best to distract her from her studies. They both stopped when they saw Harry arrive.

“Hello, Harry!” Hermione said brightly as she swiftly closed her book, “We missed you at breakfast.”

“We ate in our rooms,” Harry answered as he settled his rather large backpack on the ground next to his desk. It was charmed to be light enough for him to carry, no matter how heavy the books were inside it, but that didn’t make it any less awkward for his small arms to handle. Ron said nothing but stared guardedly at where Severus still lurked in the doorway. Harry avoided looking towards his phiter. If he did, he was afraid he’d suddenly lunge at him and beg him not to leave him alone. If he didn’t look, he could pretend like he didn’t care, just like any normal seventeen year old wouldn’t care.

‘I won’t be far, Harry,’ Severus spoke directly into Harry’s mind, reminding him that with their link his phiter wouldn’t really be leaving him. Harry took a deep breath and finally turned his eyes to the doorway. He couldn’t yet answer properly with mindspeak, especially when in his boy form, but he nodded his head. Severus nodded his head once in return, gave his friends a dark, pointed look as a reminder, and then left. It was easier than Harry had expected. He could feel Severus still, even if it was muted, and he was more at ease with the castle itself than when they first arrived. He was sure he could do this.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione whispered softly. Ron had an odd expression on his face, a mixture of concern and unsettled confusion, as though he didn’t quite know what to think about the situation. Harry nodded his head jerkily towards Hermione and began to arrange his own materials on his desk. He sat down without thinking and found his chin level with his desk. Cruel snickers came from the doorway.

“Need a baby seat, Potter?” a falsely sympathetic voice asked with a high pitched giggle. His face turning red, Harry didn’t even need to turn to see Pansy Parkinson and some other Slytherins standing in the doorway. Luckily Malfoy wasn’t in this class, but Parkinson and Knott were along with two other Slytherins Harry knew by sight but not their names. He clinched his teeth, but didn’t turn to face them. As long as they couldn’t see his expression, he could at least pretend that they weren’t getting to him. Ron had no such compunctions to hide his feelings about them insulting his friend.

“At least he can grow bigger,” he said, stalking towards them despite the way Hermione had latched onto the back of his robe, “Too bad there isn’t a cure for ugly.” Luckily, before the Slytherins had a chance to respond, Professor McGonagall entered and everyone fled to their seats before she started taking points. Harry silently slid from his chair, pulling out his wand. Severus had shown him several helpful spells, including one to resize his chair. It would probably have been easier for him to work at a shrunken desk, but what pride he had left had him only resizing the chair like the one he used for meals so that he could reach. He cast it silently, glad to have learned how the year before and quickly climbed up into it before the teacher began class.

His two morning classes went without incident. A few of his classmates, notably the Slytherins, commented on his reduced size. Others whispered behind his back. Quite a few of the girls giggled when he passed them in the hall. But as Harry was always surrounded by his friends, no one dared to approach him with the desire to cuddle him or to harm. In fact, his worst enemy, as he soon discovered was a shortened attention span. Classes were generally boring on the first day of school; on this first day Harry found them tortuous. He wanted to run around, to doodle on his parchment, to do just about anything but sit calmly in his chair, listening to every word his teachers had to say.

Lunch time did not come too soon. Harry sat with his friends this time, after Hermione had discretely offered him one of her larger books to sit on so he could reach the table. It was embarrassing, but no one made a big deal about it. Nor did anyone remark upon the way he kept turning his head to look at where Severus sat eating, giving him a small wave whenever he caught his eye. Severus did not wave back, not in a way any of his friends could see, but Harry felt his response all the same. They were halfway through lunch when a group of Slytherins approached them, Malfoy in the lead.

Harry felt the other boy before he saw him, not because he felt dark or dangerous or evil like he would expect, but because he felt different, like he wasn’t quite human. It was a strange notion, though he didn’t feel precisely like a sphinx.

“Potter,” Malfoy said when he was close enough. Harry’s friends all turned to watch the Slytherins, Neville even nervously drew a wand. Even Luna looked on the developing scene with interest.

“What do you want, ferret?” Ron demanded, sliding into a defensive position before his petite friend. Harry frowned. He may have been shorter but that didn’t mean he had to be coddled and protected. Defiantly he slid off the bench, only just saving the book from sliding off with him, and moved in front of Ron to confront Malfoy himself.

“Does he need a stool, do you think?” Parkinson said, snickering over Malfoy’s shoulder, but the blond boy didn’t join in.

“I just wanted to know how you got out of doing all your homework,” Malfoy said, “Still getting the star treatment?” Harry blinked. Where were all the baby jokes, the allusions to his abysmal Potions skills? Just a jab at his change in how he was taking classes, and a small one at that. On the other hand, he was at a loss of how to answer without making himself sound like a baby, though his first instinct was to stick out his tongue. Luckily, he reigned that in.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” he finally said, “At least I get star treatment for a reason, not because my daddy pays for it.”

“What would you know about daddies?” Malfoy answered with a sneer, “Unless it’s trying to get other people’s put in prison.”

“Poor baby, without your daddy,” Parkinson added and many of the Slytherins snickered, though not all. Harry wasn’t the only war orphan, after all, and some of them looked uncomfortable with Harry’s size. Or rather, they looked stoic but Harry could still sense it. It was strange but, with only a few exceptions, most notably Pansy Parkinson, he had felt far more malevolence from the Dursleys than he did from the Slytherins now. He couldn’t quite figure out what he felt from Malfoy; in fact it was hard to read Malfoy at all, as though he knew how to block. It was disconcerting; especially with the way he physically towered over him now. He would have been taller than Harry even if he hadn’t become a sphinx, and as it was it felt like being confronted by a giant, or perhaps more accurately, a grown up. It was far too reminiscent of his first childhood with his uncle, and he found himself resisting the urge to go running for a cupboard. Instead he did something equally as childish; he responded to Parkinson’s comment without thought.

“I do too have a daddy!” he screamed at her, “And I’m not a baby.” This got more laughter than her comment did; even a few Gryffindors who had rallied to his side had to hide their amusement. Belatedly, it occurred to Harry how he sounded. He stood up straighter, and spoke more carefully. “Just because my father is dead, does not mean I don’t have him,” he said, though what he wanted to do was tell her he had a phiter, and if she insulted him, she’d be in detention for a month. Before Malfoy or Parkinson could think of another retort, though Malfoy already had his mouth open, Professor Snape suddenly made his presense known.

“Is there a problem here?” Severus asked, his voice soft but dangerous. Many of the Slytherins backed off at once. Parkinson left more slowly with a dark glare in Harry’s direction behind the professor’s back. Malfoy was slow to leave as well, his expression unreadable. Severus faced the Gryfindors with a raised eyebrow and most of them turned hurriedly away to their lunches. He held Ron and Hermione’s gazes the longest, before turning to look at Harry. Harry squirmed under the silence.

“They started it,” he finally said. Severus’s eyebrow raised even higher and Harry found himself blushing.

“If I catch you fighting, you will have detention,” was all he said before he walked away again. Most of Gryffindor sighed in relief that no points were taken, but Harry continued to squirm. He wanted to talk to Severus properly, to explain everything that had happened. He knew that the professor tended to favor Slytherin, but had had been more fair last year, and now that Harry was his…musoi…now that things were changed he didn’t like seeing him act like a professor. Then Harry felt his phiter, reassuring and gentle. Way over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy continued to watch him. Then another, unexpected person came to sit at the staff table, right next to Severus. Remus Lupin had come to Hogwarts.