Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, huddled under the bed. He was afraid to come out and find out exactly how much of a freak he was. He was afraid to come out and find out how the Dursleys would react. But in the end, he couldn't stay hiding forever. Already his stomach was growling and the dust was making his nose twitch and really, it wasn't very comfortable down on the floor. Harry slowly began to creep out from the corner and towards the edge of the bed. He peaked out cautiously but it was soon evident that he was alone in the room. Somehow, he was able to sense the very emptiness in the space around him. He left his sanctuary behind.

The first thing Harry did upon leaving was to sneeze violently and to shake himself, trying to get rid of all the dust and cobwebs that now coated his body. Then he cautiously looked down at what had been a hand. It was now a black furred paw. Harry quickly closed his eyes then opened them again, but the sight did not change. Whatever he was, he had paws and black fur. It was at that moment that Harry suddenly realized he was naked. His robes were lying in a heap near the door, obviously having fallen off of him after the change. This bothered him far more than he thought it should have. After all, he was well acquainted with many animagi, and none of them ever wore clothes when they were in their animal forms. Telling himself this didn't help; he still felt entirely indecent.

Harry bent his head about further to look at his own underbelly. He had four legs and four paws, all covered in glossy black hair. His private parts, on the other hand, were fur free and left him feeling worse than ever. Not only did they not look right but now they were uncovered for anyone to see. Then Harry caught sight of his tail and was so startled he forgot all about being naked.

If he had thought about it at all, he probably would have expected something like a dog tail. He wasn't expecting something long, black, and sleek. He made a noise which came out as an odd mix between a growl and a mew that was meant to mean something along the lines of “What the heck have I become?!” The noise itself startled him so mush that he jumped and tripped over his own paws. The tail looked like something belonging to a feline, but Harry didn't feel like a cat, or anyway how he always imagined what being a cat would feel like. His new body felt clumsy and awkward. If he was going to become an animal, he had always thought he might be a stag like his father, or a dog like Sirius or even a wolf like Remus. Cats always brought to mind McGonagall or Mrs. Figg, and Harry had a sudden wild thought of being taken to Mrs. Figg's house and posing for photos. Harry shook his head to clear the image. He had to find out what he looked like.

Harry looked about his room as though he expected a mirror to conveniently appear on the wall. The walls were bare, however, except for his calendar and the shelves. Those shelves only contained books; Mrs. Dursley had long ago cleared away all of Dudley's broken toys. Harry tried to remember if he even owned a mirror. Then he did remember and wished he didn't. The broken pieces to the mirror Sirius had given him were still in his chest somewhere. Sirius would probably think it was great fun that Harry had suddenly turned into some weird animal. Or maybe he would turn into a dog and try to chase him. Harry shook his head to free it of morbid thoughts. He still couldn't think about his godfather without a terrible sadness seizing him.

'Mirror', he thought to himself, trying to keep his thoughts on track, 'Where is a mirror?'. The closest mirror he could think of was the one at the end of the hall. It was a full length one, too, so he shouldn't have any trouble looking into it even this close to the floor. Then he turned towards the door and saw that it was closed. Even assuming the Dursleys had left it unlocked Harry could no longer reach the doorknob.

Harry let out another mewling growl in annoyance. Surely there was something he could use in the room to see himself! He looked around the room again until his eyes alighted upon the window. Perhaps he could manage to see himself in the reflection! Now he only needed to get up high enough to do it. He walked slowly back to his bed, trying not to trip over his own paws. Then he jumped up so that his front paws rested on the top of his bed. They barely reached. Taking a deep breath, Harry leaped for it anyway, scrambling with his back legs to make it over the top. Claws he didn't even know he had sank into the sheets as he struggled to pull himself up until finally he rolled over the edge and onto the bed. That was a good deal harder than he had been expecting; if he was a cat then he had to be the least graceful feline ever to walk the earth.

Having taken a moment to catch his bearings, he made his way to the other side of the bed where the window was. And came face to face with a mesh screen and a cool breeze. The window was pushed up, the reflective glass far beyond his reach or strength to pull down again. Harry sat down on the bed with a huff.

Well, maybe he didn't have to see what he looked like if he could manage to change himself back. Being on the short side didn't seem nearly so bad when compared to not being a boy at all. Maybe all of this was just some strange accidental magic, like blowing up his aunt, and with a little effort he could un-accident himself. Harry frowned to himself thinking that didn't sound quite right, but somehow it was harder to think the same way as before. And he was still hungry.

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to remember everything Professor McGonagall and Hermione had ever babbled about animagus forms and how to change out of them. Then his stomach growled and he opened his eyes. He still had four legs and fur. Then he heard a bird singing right outside his window. Harry leapt for the bird in one quick motion, ran headlong into the screen, and bounced back onto his bed. Then he felt slightly sick. For one brief moment, he had actually wanted to eat a bird. Still hungry and with no mirrors in sight, Harry curled up sadly on his pillow. His thoughts returned to the strange things Sirius used to eat when he was a dog and before long Harry felt tears seeping out of his eyes. The day of his death was now a national wizards holiday. While the entire world was rejoicing the end of Voldemort's reign, their saviour was in mourning.

Sad thoughts were startled straight out of his head when the doorbell rang. Harry rose to his feet, half hoping it was Dumbledore. How many hours ago had he sent Hedwig with his letter? Then he shook his head, there was no way an owl could fly that fast. Still, he couldn't help but hope.

“Where's my favourite nephew!” a voice screeched from downstairs and Harry visibly drooped. Then he heard sharp barking and all of his hair stood up on end. He dove instinctively to hide underneath his pillow. Aunt Marge had come. And she had brought her dog.

“Does that boy still live here?” Harry heard, even with everything muffled by the pillow. Fighting his instinct to hide, Harry poked his head out and listened for his relatives' reply.

“The freak isn't a boy any...” Harry heard Dudley say before his voice was suddenly silenced.

“No, no he has left for good,” his uncle answered quickly, “Let me get your things.”

“Here, pumpkin, come have some ice cream,” his aunt said, obviously distracting Dudley from whatever he was trying to say. Then the dog barked again and Harry found himself diving beneath his bed covers.

“And I hope you're making a good use of that room now that it's empty,” he heard Aunt Marge say, much closer than before.

“Oh, we're still considering the possibilities,” his aunt answered, “You really don't need to...” And then the door opened. Harry heard a low growl and his heart began to beat very fast. He wasn't alone in the room any more. He heard people talking, Aunt Marge calling her dog, and then suddenly the sheet was swept away for all to see him huddling naked with hair on end. Harry yowled, Marge shrieked, and the dog growled more fiercely.

Harry scrambled backwards, desperate to get away from the loud and threatening noises but there was nowhere to go but off the bed and there was a creature down there that wanted to tear him to pieces.

“Wild animal!” Aunt Marge screamed and her dog managed to pull itself up the sheets and onto the bed. Harry growled at the animal and ran for the first safe haven he could find, which happened to be his aunt. She screamed as he climbed her, finally holding tightly to her dress about her shoulders. He had to hold on extra tight because she was flailing around trying to knock him off. Luckily she was too panicked to be effective. Unfortunately Marge was not so hindered, and a sudden sharp swipe with something long and hard sent Harry flying towards the ground.

He landed on his own robes, dazed and winded but somehow on his feet. Then the dog was lunging at him teeth bared and before Harry could escape again he felt those fangs sinking into his shoulder, only barely missing his neck. Harry yowled even louder than before in agonizing pain, even as he swiped with his own claws outstretched, hitting flesh. The dog refused to let go, trying to shake Harry in its mouth but Harry was too large for that. It still hurt so bad Harry almost felt like passing out.

“Kill it!” Marge screamed, “kill it!” and Harry yowled again, trying to claw at the dog but not having a good angle. Just when Harry thought the dog was going to rip his shoulder to shreds, he heard an answering yowl. It wasn't a mewling frightened sound like Harry, however, it was deeper, more of a snarl, and in the next moment the dog was gone. Harry didn't quite see how it was done but one moment he had been in the clutches of a ferocious beast and the next he felt waves of gentle concern caressing him. Something warm and wet was nudging his hurt shoulder and Harry mewled pitiably in response. He focuses his eyes just enough to see an enormous black panther standing over him. In the reflection of the eyes he finally caught a glimpse of his own face.

He wasn't a cat, harry realized at once, or not just a cat. That was why his body seemed all wrong for a feline. He was the size of a house cat because he was still young. Just like the body he had woken up to that morning had been young. Then he closed his eyes again, trembling from emotions and pain. Arms surrounded him, wrapping him in something soft and holding him close. They were human arms, not the arms of a feline of any sort, but they still gave off feelings of safety and he let himself be taken up. The arms smelled like the panther.

Outside the arms there was shouting and threats. He heard his uncle's voice and his aunts and Marge's. The arms kept him safe from the voices, shielding him from dark emotions and hatred, and Harry found it hard to understand the words. They didn't seem important.

He heard another familiar voice, not shouting but cutting, driving Harry's attackers away. Then they were moving, away from the room down the stairs and right out of the house. Harry was finally free of the Dursleys, huddled safely in the arms of Professor Snape.