Harry got out of bed early on his seventeenth birthday and promptly tripped over a tangle of clothing that had somehow fallen about his ankles.

“What the hell!” he gasped, pulling himself up off the floor and back onto his bed. Now thoroughly awake, he quickly became aware of a draft, as well as the reason for his tumble. His pyjama bottoms and underwear had fallen right off of him the moment he had stood up. He pulled them up now and found them entirely too large, as though an engorgement charm had been cast on them. Harry was no stranger to ill fitting clothing, growing up with Dudley's hand-me-downs had insured that, but these particular clothes should have fit as Harry had bought them himself.

It wasn't just his bottoms either; he soon realized that his top as well was extremely loose on him. The head opening was now wide enough to hang over one of his shoulders and the bottom was so low that even without his underwear he managed to not be entirely indecent. This was lucky as his uncle chose that moment to barge in, demanding to know what the crash was. He only got part of a bellow out, however, before he got a good look at Harry.

“Sorry!” he squeaked out as he stared at his nephew, his face turning red, and he disappeared again, slamming the door behind him. Harry looked down at his ill fitting clothes and then back again to where his uncle had vanished. He hoped that the look on his uncle's face was entirely due to his state of half dress and not anything else, but he was beginning to have his doubts. One did not go to bed in slightly loose pyjamas and wake up in mammoth sized ones unless something drastic had happened in the night. Just to be sure of things, he unpacked clothes to wear for the day and found them, too, to be too large. It wasn't until he had almost resorted to a wizarding robe just to be decent when he remembered. He was now seventeen years old; he was allowed to use magic! This excited, fluttering notion filled him with warmth, only to deflate when he realized his wand was still locked up under the stairs. He was lucky he still had a spare robe that had gotten mixed up with his regular clothes.

“Robe it is, then,” he muttered to himself and he pulled it on. Like the rest of his wardrobe it was too large on him, the majority of it flowing behind him like some kind of bizarre bridal veil and the arms needing to be rolled just as far as they could go, but at least it wasn't falling off. Now that he was more or less decent, there was nothing to distract him from the problem at hand. Unless this was some highly ingenious prank set up by the Weasley twins, or else some bizarre new plot by death eaters to undo him, then he could not think of a single reason why his clothes would suddenly grow several sizes too large. Determined to see if it was only his clothes that had changed, he finally left his room and walked into the bathroom. He valiantly ignored the fact that he was reaching up to grasp the door handles, determined to make it to a mirror. If his fall in his bedroom hadn't woken the entire house, his scream from the bathroom would have.

It wasn't just his clothes and the doorknobs that had grown. So had the bathroom. The sink and corresponding mirror were much higher up than he remembered. Even ignoring the implications of this, of everything that had confronted him since he woke up, Harry couldn't ignore the change in his reflection.

His hair was still its usual black and his eyes were green and that everlasting scar had not changed. The problem was his black hair, normally a complete disaster at this time in the morning, had somehow grown several centimetres and developed into ringlets of all things. Nothing quite so pronounced as curls, yet something a bit tamer than his usual mop, as though the individual strands had decided to team up into something more cultured. His eyes, still his mother's green and framed behind his glasses, also managed to take on a changed appearance. More shocked by his hair, it took him a while to even decide what appeared so off about the rest of his reflection. His eyes were too big for his face, the green too startling. It made him look younger.

Harry knew now that this was a dream. It had to be a dream. He was not really standing on the toilet to get a glimpse of this pale-skinned, fragile imp in the mirror. Everything was wrong, he could see that now that he wasn't caught by the hair and the eyes. The skin was too pale; hadn't he just spent most of his Summer outdoors? Not to mention, as he was desperately trying not to notice, he was too short. Last he had measured, he had finally and proudly managed to reach six feet, nearly equal to Ron. And then there were the ears; he had missed them at first behind the hair. They weren't his ears; his ears weren't so pointy. No, all in all, this was not Harry. This was some artist's fantastical, youthenized version of Harry but it wasn't him. Harry pinched his right arm. It hurt. He failed to wake up.

“Open up, Freak, I hafta go!” his cousin howled, pounding on the door. Harry jumped, nearly falling off his perch, and then suddenly realized he rather had to go himself. Just as suddenly, he found himself afraid to. Suppose he discovered that he had changed further...down there? His features seemed so feminine now; what little facial hair he had begun to grow over the summer seemed to have vanished. He hadn't been turned into a girl, had he? Quickly, Harry's hands flew to his chest, not yet ready to check the rest of his anatomy. He found hard flesh, nothing squishy or bouncy as he had feared. He still couldn't manage to check elsewhere.

“Come on!” Dudley cried again, pounding on the door.

“Let Dudders in!” his uncle bellowed from downstairs.

“Use the other toilet!” Harry called back, hopping a little in his own effort to hold it in as he climbed back down to the floor. Finally, unable to hold it any longer, he pulled open his robes and looked.

“What the fuck!” he shouted in horror, even as he took aim to relieve himself. His bladder wouldn't stand for anything less no matter what other inner turmoil Harry was feeling. At least he was still able to piss while standing, but what he held in his hand had at least half the mass of what he was used to handling. It was as though he had literally gone back in time, to before he hit puberty.

“Freak!” Dudley screamed from outside the door before he stomped off at last for his parent's bathroom. Harry whimpered slightly at the word. He was a freak. Only he could go to sleep a normal teenager and wake up as a pointy-eared prepubescent. Obviously, something had happened in the night. Harry stood up again, closed up his robe and washed his hands. Then, taking a deep breath, he walked into the hall.

No one was about, luckily, and he dashed back into his room. Unable to comprehend what had happened, he laid back down on his bed. Perhaps if he managed to go back to sleep, he would be normal again when he woke up. The plan was thwarted by a scratching at his window. He looked up to see a flock of owls bearing gifts.

“Happy seventeenth birthday to me,” he mumbled, finally forcing himself to the window to let them in. Some he recognized, his own Hedwig among them, but there seemed to be more than the usual number this year. Harry quickly accepted their various packages and letters, giving them in turn the bowl of owl treats he had gotten ready in anticipation of their arrival, and then sent them all on their way with the exception of Hedwig. Then he stared dismally at his pile of gifts, no longer really in the mood to receive them. Finally hoping they'd at least be a distraction, or perhaps an admittance on the twin's part to an elaborate, shape shifting prank, he began to open them.

Fred and George did not admit to anything, but they did send him a shrunk assortment of their newest products. Harry would have had an easier time inspecting them if he had been able to unshrink them with his still locked up wand. In fact, most of his friends had shrunk their gifts, obviously assuming that with the arrival of his birthday he'd be able to use magic. Hermione's was a book, too small to read the title of, and Ron had sent the usual supply of sweets. Hagrid, too, had sent a basket of rock cakes. That was the extent Harry managed to unwrap before he finally came across an official looking letter from the ministry. Opening it, he found something helpful to his situation at last.

“Congratulations Mr. Potter,” he read, “On your coming of age. As you may have been informed, a witch or wizard's coming of age is an important process. It is the time when a witch or wizard will come into their full power. It is also a time when latent genetics may make an appearance. If you find yourself to be unexpectedly powerful, or to be altered from your human state, please fill out the proper form included in this letter and return it within the envelope provided. All non-humans must be registered by law with the ministry and their magical signature processed and recorded. If you notice nothing beyond the common changes that arrive at a coming of age, please disregard the enclosed forms. Common changes are as shown below:

-Sudden increase in height by one to seven centimetres

-Sudden development of increased body mass

-Slight increase in power levels

-Hair growth of up to thirty centimetres in length

-unexpected correction of physical disabilities (such as eye-sight correction or regrowth of previously missing minor limbs)

-the unexpected healing of minor and sometimes major ailments you were experiencing prior to your coming of age

If anything beyond the above listed changes have occurred, please note them upon the proper forms.

Once a witch or wizard has come of age, you are entitled to the rights of all of age witches and wizards, including the right to the use of unsupervised magic. Remember that this does not give you the right to displaying magical ability in the vicinity of Muggles, besides those specifically informed of our world, and to do so could result in legal intervention.

Harry stopped reading at that point to sort through the enclosed forms the letter spoke of. He hoped that they would be clearer on what the letter was talking about, concerning unusual changes. As far as he could tell, his coming of age had resulted in none of the usual developments. He had shrunk instead of grown, his hair was different but not particularly longer, he definitely still needed his glasses, and his body mass was mostly definitely not greater. The only part he hadn't been able to test was his magical ability, but he didn't feel particularly more powerful. The forms, however, were entirely unhelpful and just the slightest bit alarming. They wanted knowledge of family genetics, which Harry didn't know, as well as a check-list for developed characteristics such as fangs, wings, fur, and the like. This led to Harry checking his teeth, which were luckily fang free, but otherwise did not enlighten him as to what he was.

Harry didn't think he wanted to register himself anyway; he had experience with how the ministry treated those they considered non-humans and wasn't eager to find out how they would classify him. Besides, if he wrote them it would only be a matter of time before the press found out. Far from reassuring him, his coming of age letter left him in even more of a panic. This wasn't some bizarre dream or prank; he was able to read in black and white what had happened even if he didn't understand it. Something in his genes had taken him over. For the first time, thanks to the letter, he wondered if he really might not be human any more. It was not a very pleasant notion.

Finally, he realized he had no other choice but to inform someone of the changes. He would have to write to Dumbledore. Pushing aside his shrunken birthday gifts, he rummaged around to find a piece of parchment. His quills and ink were all locked up downstairs, but he still had a regular ballpoint pen to write with, if only he could figure out how to word it.

'Dear Dumbledore,' he began, 'As you probably realize, I've turned seventeen today. Well, something has happened that I don't think is normal. I seem to have shrunk. And have other changes. Can you please explain? Sincerely, Harry Potter.' That was as clearly as he was willing to write it. He tied the letter to Hedwig, apologizing for having to send her off again so soon, and then sat on his bed and waited. Hopefully, Dumbledore could sort it out, Harry could be changed back into his normal self, and everything would be all right.

Everything was not all right. Harry sat on the very edge of the chair with his arms crossed defensively and his toes barely touching the floor. From the other side of the room the Dursleys stared at him.

“Look,” Harry said, trying to sound reassuring, “I know I'm a bit...”

“Freakish?” Dudley supplied from across the room.

“Shorter,” Harry finished, glaring towards his cousin before he remembered he was trying not to antagonize, “But really it's all right.” Dudley, looking anything but reassured, dove behind his father.

“How do we know it's really you?” his aunt demanded, her voice high pitched and suspicious, “And why can't you just change yourself back?” Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I told you, I need my wand to do any magic,” he explained, yet again. He decided against mentioning that he probably couldn't change back even with his wand.

“Now hear me, you...impostor boy,” his uncle growled, “There will be no talk of...of that stick in this house!”

“Wand!” Harry exclaimed, unable to resist, “Wand,wand, wand!” Then he clamped his jaw shut before he could give in to any other infantile urges. He seemed to be getting a lot of those recently. All three Dursleys ducked backwards at his words, as though he were shouting something very vulgar while wielding a gun. His uncle's face began to turn purple and he took half a step towards him before thinking better of it.

“Tell us something only Harry would know,” his aunt demanded suddenly, her sharp eyes glaring at him. Harry thought for a moment.

“I used to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs,” he supplied at last.

“Ha!” his uncle cried, “Any of you freaks could know that. It was on those freak letters!”

“My favourite colour is green,” Harry offered, trying to think of anything he could say about himself that didn't involve magic. This statement created a hushed conference between the Dursleys. It seemed that none of them knew whether this was true or not.

“Not good enough,” his uncle proclaimed at last.

“It's not my fault you lot know nothing about me,” Harry answered. His uncle considered this. “I'll be gone soon anyway,” Harry continued, “Dumbledore said this was the last summer I have to spend here. You'll never see me again.” His uncle seemed to cheer up slightly, though he still looked suspicious.

“You'll stay in your room,” Mr. Dursley insisted, “You'll keep your freakishness away from us.”

“I won't have the neighbours seeing a strange child in this house,” his aunt added, “And you'll keep away from Dudley.”

“If he keeps away from me,” Harry agreed, sighing. He still didn't have his wand but at least they weren't throwing him out of the house. Even though Voldemort had been dead for over a year now there were still many deatheaters on the loose. This house, even without the blood protection which supposedly dissipated last night at midnight, had an elaborate system of wards that had taken years to weave together. This was, according to Dumbledore, one of the most secure locations in all of England. “No locks this time,” Harry added. Finally, not able to take their stares any longer, Harry stood up. All three Dursleys jumped backwards. Harry ignored them and walked up the stairs.

Back in his room, he listened for a moment to see if they were going to come after him before falling climbing onto his bed. Then he looked over at where his presents were dumped in a heap. They were still too small to be practical. He could always try and experiment with wandless magic, but even as the idea formed he thought better of it. The way his birthday was going so far he would either over enlarge them and crush himself beneath them or he would make them explode. Besides, he wasn't really interested in the presents. He wanted to hear back from Dumbledore.

Feeling suddenly tired, he rolled his head lethargically to the side so that he could look at his calendar. He had one more week until the agreed upon date when he would leave this house forever. Yesterday, there had been nothing more he had wanted. Now, he was suddenly nervous. How would his friends react when they saw him? What if they thought he was just as weird and freakish as the Dursleys? What if he stayed short and strange forever? Harry curled up on his bed, trying hard to stop the tears from coming. He was seventeen years old, he didn't care what age he looked like, he was the saviour of the wizarding world, and he was not going to cry.

He stayed there, curled up on himself, until a loud crack exploded from his doorway. Harry leapt up, twisting automatically for his non-existent wand as he searched frantically for the threat. Seeing no immediate threat within the room, Harry tried to figure out what woke him. The crack resounded through the room and this time Harry recognized the noise of a hammer at his door. He jerked the door open and found Dudley apparently trying to nail his door shut with a board. What Dudley didn't seem to realize was that the door opened inwards and he would need many more boards if he hoped to stop Harry from coming and going. Harry and Dudley stared at each other for a long moment.

“You really are small,” Dudley said at last before driving the nail he was working on the rest of the way into the wall. Harry watched his cousin, feeling very strange. Only yesterday he had about matched Dudley for height, if not in bulk. Today, he felt like he was facing a Hagrid sized man. Harry knew, intellectually, that he was shorter. All of his clothes and the furniture of the house attested to that. But it wasn't until this very moment that Harry really felt small. He really hated that feeling.

“What in heavens!” a shrill voice screeched and his aunt and uncle appeared in the hallway. Now that they were no longer cowering at the other end of a room Harry could truly see how large his relatives were.

“What did you make Dudley do, boy?” his uncle growled.

“I didn't make him do anything!” Harry exclaimed, annoyed, until his uncle marched up to him and towered over him. It was like being a little kid again at the mercy of everyone. Harry shrank back in spite of himself.

“Listen here, boy!” his uncle bellowed, his face large and red as he glared down at him, “I won't have this in my house! I told you to keep away from Dudders; I won't have you contaminate him!”

“He's the one nailing boards in the wall!” Harry yelled back, refusing to be intimidated, or at the very least trying very hard to not show that he was. His uncle's face turned purple in rage and he made a move as though to grab Harry. Harry jumped backwards, his heart racing. His uncle was huge. And it was at this point that everything became very strange.

Harry could taste fear. There was his own of course, the fear of being different, of being a freak, and the very real and sharp fear of being hurt by the raging giant towering over him. Then there was fear outside of himself. He could almost taste his relatives' fear of everything that Harry represented. Harry was the freak, and he was a threat to their well ordered world. This fear radiated off of them and rained down upon Harry, along with darker globs of hatred and disdain. Sharpest was his uncle's anger, a veritable onslaught of emotion that attacked just as viciously as any sword. Harry felt this, all in a matter of seconds, as he found himself suddenly hunched down close to the floor. Instinctively, Harry moved to escape, scrambling away from the threatening rage and diving underneath his bed. It wasn't until he was huddled deeply in the shadows in the farthest corner that Harry realized something was very very wrong. Even more wrong than waking up one morning a shrunken girlish imp.

Harry had run on all fours. Not crawled on his knees or hunched up like a frog but very literally he had run using four equally proportioned limbs. Not only that, but the bed he was now hiding under was small. Even at his smaller size he shouldn't have been able to fit so securely within such a small corner. He should have barely been able to squeeze under the bed at all. Harry had changed again. And this time he was most definitely not human.

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.

Harry's journey away from the Dursleys grew hazy after that. He distinctly recalled being told to drink something at one point, and after that only a sense of peace and a very vivid dream where he was hunting in a jungle. He never did catch his prey.

When he awoke again, truly awoke not drifting in a state of half sleep, he found himself lying on something soft and warm and so comfortable that he almost went straight back to sleep. Then he felt his bed move.

This ought to have alarmed Harry, but all he felt was an overwhelming sense of peace. Just as the Dursleys had given off waves of anger, hatred, and fear, Harry now felt only calm and warmth and safety. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no harm would come to him. Unfortunately, he was now awake enough to notice the nagging ache in his shoulder. The pain sparked a memory of teeth and tearing and Harry's eyes shot open in alarm.

'Relax,' a voice whispered, caressing and gentle, and the momentary panic left him. Now that he was awake, however, he wasn't about to fall back asleep. Looking at his surroundings he found himself to be curled up next to a large, warm body of black fur. Harry pushed his head free of the large panther and found that they were lying together upon a bed to a perfectly normal looking bedroom. This surprised Harry slightly. He had been dreaming about a jungle and had half expected to wake up there. Wanting a better view, Harry struggled to climb the mound of soft fur and rippling muscles, only to collapse back again at the jolt of sharp pain when he put weight on his left front leg.

He could feel as the dark panther sighed, and then his momentary bed was shifting and gently extracting itself from him until he was left lying on a mound of blankets with a great feline towering over him. Under normal circumstances Harry would have been terrified. The panther was enormous, all sleek muscle and black silk and exuding a grace that Harry had been imagining when he first realized he was a cat. Large and dangerous looking though the creature was, however, Harry could sense nothing of danger coming from him. Harry sat up, this time careful not to put weight on his left leg. Suddenly the panther rippled, shifted, and transformed into a man in a long black robe. The man's hair was the same glossy black as the panther's and his eyes did not seem to have changed at all except to fit his very familiar face.

Neither did the smell of safety and comfort change. Harry stared up at him, puzzled and vaguely glad that the man wasn't naked. This wasn't a man Harry had ever particularly liked or gotten along with, even if he had drastically toned down his classroom favouritism with the end of Voldemort. Professor Severus Snape allowed Harry's slow inspection with an unexpected patience. Then he stood, adjusted his newly formed robes more comfortably, and walked over to a desk where several vials of potions were laid out as well as what appeared to be a baby bottle. It was the bottle that Snape was going for, as well as his wand. He laid a charm over the bottle that Harry didn't recognize and then made his way back towards the bed.

“I know you are very confused right now, Harry,” Snape said, speaking to him directly for the first time, “And I will explain everything, but first I want you to take this potion.” Then he pulled Harry into his lap and offered him the bottle's nipple. Harry eyed it dubiously and then looked up at Snape. The man rolled his eyes, obviously recognizing Harry's reluctance.

“It's the best way while you're still injured,” Snape insisted, “Unless you want to risk choking or drinking too fast and getting sick.” Harry thought he would very much rather risk that than to drink from a bottle. If he could figure out how to speak without the proper vocal chords he would be informing Snape of that, vehemently. Snape growled softly under his breath, but he did finally unscrew the nipple and offered it to Harry again. This time, Harry opened his mouth and allowed the liquid to be poured down his throat. Despite Snape's muttered threats of choking or spilling, the man was very careful that he didn't drown the cub and Harry managed to swallow it easily. It turned out to be milk with the faint taste of a healing potion.

After Harry finished Snape laid him gently back onto the bed while he put the bottle away. Harry immediately tried to stand up, favouring his left leg. He tried to twist his head about to get a good look at the wound only to be stopped when Snape returned to the bed, this time sitting next to him.

“Let me begin with the obvious,” Snape said. Harry looked up at him attentively, feeling strange to see him in professor mode without the malice or the constant threat of detentions. “You are not entirely human,” Snape continued, “Neither are you entirely not human. Genetically speaking, you are a throwback to the dawn of magic. I do hope you paid some attention during your history lessons?” Harry simply stared at him, his confusion evident. All he could remember from history was a long bout of goblin wars. Snape sighed in apparent disgust at his ignorance but Harry was too curious at the moment to care. Besides, he got a distinct sense that Snape didn't really mean it.

“At the dawn of magic, witches and wizards were created when humans mated with creatures of magic. The veela, the vampires, giants, centaurs, and even goblins or house elves can be found within a witch or wizard's genes. Sometimes certain traits of these creatures will crop up, especially if the witch or wizard's relation to the creature is very recent. I believe your friend Hagrid is proof of this. Very, very rarely, so rarely in fact that it is scarcely heard of, these genes become completely dominant during your magical awakening, which happens around your seventeenth birthday. In your case, your blood can probably be traced back to the sphinx.”

Harry considered the professor's words. At least they made more sense than his coming of age letter had, and it certainly explained a good deal more. He did not, however, understand what some Egyptian statue of a part lion part woman with no nose had to do with him and Snape turning into panthers. And it certainly didn't explain why Harry had turned into a youth or why he made such a small panther. He was certain that seventeen was entirely too old to be considered a cub. If anything, he aught to be an elder among panthers. And he still hadn't managed to really look at himself to see what he had become. Being unable to voice any of his curiosity or frustrations, he had to settle for continuing to listen and hoping that Snape happened upon his questions.

“And I suppose the half giant never got around to the sphinx in all his lessons,” Snape remarked, his tone surprisingly more resigned than condescending before he went on to explain. “A sphinx is widely considered in myth to be a creature half woman and half lion. It is also considered a wise creature who likes to challenge passer bys in riddle games. As always, myth contains a grain of truth along with the fantasy.” Harry remembered his own encounter with the sphinx during the third task of fourth year and thought that the mythology was surprisingly accurate. “A sphinx is part cat and part humanoid. Obviously, the cat part does not need to be a lion. Neither does the sphinx need to be a woman. A sphinx in his or her full power has the ability to change at will between forms and has even been known to manage a half transformation which is probably where the mythology arose. I'm sure you're happy to know you will not be stuck as a cat forever.”

Harry was happy to know this, but he still wanted to know why he appeared to be a cub. He also would really like someone to explain the sphinx he met in the maze. Was it a fake or was it a real sphinx doing a half transformation like Snape had said? “As for wise,” Snape continued, either oblivious to or simply ignoring Harry's questions, “This part of the myth probably arises from the fact that the sphinx are extremely long lived. It is not unusual for a sphinx to live for thousands of years. They also age much more slowly than humans do.” Here Harry's ears perked up. Perhaps Snape was answering his questions after all. “That is why you are still a cub,” Snape continued, “And I imagine that if you were in humanoid form you would appear much younger than seventeen. You are, in fact, currently the youngest sphinx in existence.”

“We are long lived, but we are also rare,” Snape continued, once he had given time for this information to sink in, “A new sphinx being born to any particular clan only once every hundred years or so. But I will save culture for another time. I can see you are wondering about myself.” Harry was wondering, too. He didn't seem to fit his own explanations. Snape was obviously fully grown, and while that would normally be expected Harry couldn't help but wonder if he shouldn't have looked younger, like Harry, due to the slower growth. And he was definitely not a hundred years older than Harry, so how could it be that a new one is born every hundred years?

“My case is a bit different from yours,” Snape said, “You are a full blooded sphinx, who happens to have dormant human genes. I am a human with sphinx ancestry. I have managed, through my own animagus studies and through a series of potions and spells, to awaken many of my dormant genes. That is why my panther and human forms are so much older. Despite being what would generally be termed as a 'half-blood'” here Snape grimaced with distaste, “I have been welcomed into the panther clan and have spent many years studying the way of the sphinx. Well enough that I was able to hear and respond to your distress call. Do you understand all I have told you?”

Harry blinked at him. As hard as being a cat was to accept, all of this talk of being a sphinx was even harder to get his head around. It didn't help that Harry was becoming sleepy again. He was tired of genetics and history. And his shoulder still ached. Snape sighed, apparently aware of his waning interest.

“Sleep, Harry,” Snape instructed, “I'll explain more when you wake. Then, soon, you can meet the others.” Harry closed his eyes, despite the spark of curiosity he got at the mention of 'others'. He felt a weight settle over the bed, and he cracked open an eye. The panther was back, towering over him protectively. Harry let his eyes close completely. Strange though the situation was, he still felt completely safe.

When he awoke again, the room felt distinctly colder, despite the warm blankets tucked around him. Harry was alone.

Harry wasn't sure whether he should be happy or upset that he was alone. On the one hand, being alone didn't feel safe. Intellectually, he knew that there was nothing in the room to harm him; despite Snape's antagonistic nature and adamant dislike of Harry during the school year, Harry had felt nothing but comfort and peace from him since the rescue. Snape would not leave him alone if he wasn't sure Harry would be safe. Knowing this, however, and feeling it were two different things. Harry didn't feel safe without his protector. And in Snape's absence, old insecurities returned.

Snape didn't like Harry. For the first five years that he taught him, the professor had treated him with hatred and disdain. Harry, for his part, had responded in like hatred, feeling no remorse at the occasional theft of his supplies or his complete lack of interest in potions in general. This mutual hatred grew every year and eventually culminated into the disaster that was occlumency lessons during his fifth year. Harry's curiosity and general dislike led to his inexcusable invasion of the professor's pensieve, and finally a lack of trust led to Harry's mission to the Department of Mysteries. The place where Sirius died. The place where Voldemort was defeated, not by skill but by love. In point of fact, if Harry had been able to occlude Voldemort, the dark lord would probably still be alive today. But after Dumbledore managed to kill his current body and Harry was chosen as the next host, Harry's love for his godfather destroyed Voldemort's remaining ties to life, driving him out of Harry's body and out of existence.

With the dark lord destroyed, Snape played his role as a deatheater only long enough to help round them up. Unfortunately, quite a few managed to escape into hiding. Harry's sixth year had left him confused when it came to the professor. Ever since the pensieve incident, not to mention Snape's continuing tendency to save his life, Harry didn't know how he felt about him. He felt guilty about invading his privacy, and about not trusting him. If he had only trusted him, Sirius would be alive. As for Snape, his attitude towards Harry remained cold. The professor was finally given the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and had turned out to be surprisingly good at it. He was also more fair, no longer favouring Slytherins to the degree he had before. He did not, however, have a complete personality change. And his hatred for James Potter remained.

Therefore, it is understandable that once Harry was away from the comfort the panther projected, he would begin to have doubts. He knew that Snape hated him. Perhaps not with the same ferocity as Harry's relatives but with equal disdain. Was Snape only pretending to like him now? Was he just enduring him until he was able to foist him off on these 'others' he had mentioned? Harry began to tremble. Before, the mention of others was reassuring. Harry wasn't alone. He wasn't a freak. But now, the idea of being left with strangers, to be thrust out from the one safe place he had found, it was unbearable.

Fear, not curiosity, made Harry pull himself up and begin to search for a way off the bed. Even the twinge from his shoulder didn't hold him back. He had to get down and find Snape. With only half formed plans in mind, he leapt over the edge of the bed in what he hoped would be a graceful leap. It ended in a tumble and more pain in his shoulder but he was soon standing again. Luckily, against all expectations the floor was carpeted.

Harry limped anxiously towards the door, desperate to find that sanctuary from before. Mewling pitiably, even to his own ears, he forgot for a moment his size in relation to the doorknob until he came to a crashing halt before solid wood. Even as he began pawing at the door, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder, he knew that he was being ridiculous. He was seventeen, and seventeen year olds did not go into a panic attack when left to themselves. They did not cry at the possibility that someone they didn't even particularly like might not want them. And they most certainly weren't afraid of empty rooms that were obviously devoid of monsters of any sort. Yet Harry couldn't stop trembling, couldn't stop gasping for breath between pathetic mewls, couldn't even stop his persistent clawing at the unmoving door, despite the growing pain in his left side.

And then, at last, the door pushed gently open, the person on the other side either aware of Harry's location before the door or hesitant to enter. Even with the slow movement, Harry was still too out of it to back away and instead tumbled backwards as the door finally admitted a man in billowing black robes into the room. Arms encircled Harry, carrying with them the familiar scent that meant safety and warmth. Snape had returned.

“Stupid boy,” the man mumbled, but his words held no malice and the feeling of calm failed to morph into the dreaded disdain. In the part of his mind that wasn't trembling in relief, Harry wondered if Snape was being different because Harry was a sphinx or if he had always been this way but Harry hadn't the senses to realize it. Never before had Harry felt another's emotions or presence so acutely.

As the panic faded, the pain started to amplify. Harry didn't even begin to protest when the bottle was offered to him, nipple attached. When he was more himself, he was sure to be mortified, but for the moment he allowed himself to be held, wrapped in soft black cloth and soothing emotions while being fed something sweet and warm and calming. Slowly, the pain faded to a dull ache. He felt Snape inspecting the wound but managed not to twitch away. When Harry was finally settled comfortably and pain-free in Snape's lap, long fingers slowly gliding across his back, the last of his earlier panic evaporated.

“Feeling better, Harry?” his teacher asked. Harry looked up at him, comfortable but still wary.

“I know you must find this strange,” the professor continued, “And I'm sure you have many questions. I would first like to assure you that you are in no danger within this room. Even in my absence this room is well warded.” Harry nodded his understanding.

“As for why I was gone...I went to meet with our pride. I'm sorry you woke up alone. I didn't think you would wake up for another half hour at least, and had I known I would have come back sooner. It is normal for newly formed sphinxes to remain among the pride or at their...mentor's side until they have acclimated to the change. The onslaught of new senses coupled with the unexpected return to youth are enough to overwhelm anyone. Over time, you will learn to filter your senses and eventually even be able to speak within panther form.”

Harry looked up at him curiously over the last bit. As for the rest, he squirmed inwardly with embarrassment. No matter what Snape said about normal, Harry knew he had acted like a baby. But the possibility of actually speaking finally distracted him from his discomfort.

“You already project some,” Snape continued, noting the cub's interest, “emotions and images mostly, but nothing controlled or specific. You must learn control before you can learn to communicate effectively, and not broadcast your every thought at wide range.” This sounded so much like the old professor Snape in his occlumency lessons that Harry couldn't help but make a face. Snape surprised him by laughing at that. Albeit, it was a very refined and soft laugh, but genuine nonetheless. Then Snape grew serious once more.

“I have also contacted Dumbledore. He has, of course, been aware that you went missing from your...relatives,” the sneer in his voice implied he wanted to call them something else, probably something Harry was too young at the moment to hear, “And he was growing rather frantic before I talked to him. Apparently, you sent him a letter that had him worried even before you disappeared. He wished to see you but I'm afraid I had to decline.” Harry looked up at him befuddled. Was he being kidnapped because he turned into a cat? Why couldn't he see Dumbledore? Snape chuckled softly again and Harry felt himself relaxing in spite of himself.

“It is too soon for other humans to interfere. You will see him soon, hopefully at the opening feast, if you are deemed ready. If not, a bit later. You will not miss your seventh year. But for now, until you learn some control, it is best if you are only around other pride members. There are two hundred and thirty-six of us in all who claim membership to the panther pride, but you will only be meeting my personal clan for now. Are you ready to meet them?”

Harry must have managed to project some of his worried because as he looked up anxiously, Snape answered him. “I will not be leaving you alone with them; as I said I am part of the clan. Soon, you will be too. We will not be parted.” Then another worry of Harry's surfaced. In fact, this had been growing for some time but he only just became aware of it. How was he supposed to use the toilet? Snape smirked down at him, an expression that had always annoyed him before, but coupled with gentle amusement it somehow seemed kinder than before. Without a word, Snape carried him into a small wash room where a box of sand was set up in the corner. Snape set him down on the sand. Harry stared back at him with anything but amusement.

“There's a waste vanishing charm on it,” he said, “It's completely sanitary.” At Harry's huff, he shrugged slightly, still with that amused smirk on his face, and said, “I'll be waiting outside.” Then he left. It took Harry nearly five minutes to convince himself to try it out. He felt entirely too self conscious, not to mention that the part of his anatomy that he was required to use was completely unfamiliar. It also reminded him that he had, basically, been sitting naked in Snape's lap. No matter how natural it had felt, even having seen Snape in panther form without clothes, it still made him feel embarrassed. Finally, he crouched over the sand and let nature take its course. Luckily, he didn't have to face the results as the vanishing charm worked perfectly.

It took another five minutes to work through his anxieties and his embarrassment and come out of the wash room. The moment he appeared, Snape picked him up again, mumbling something about his wound. Together they left the room behind. It was time to meet the clan.

“Relax,” Snape mumbled, holding on tighter to the wriggling cub. Harry couldn't seem to keep still. He couldn't even decide whether he wanted to hide deeper in Snape's robe or escape him altogether to explore. This was his first chance to really see where they were, and he didn't want to pass it up.

The bedroom opened onto a large, airy hallway which in turn led to a strange staircase. Instead of steps it consisted of a gently sloping ramp while the wooden floor gave way to tiles with a pebbled texture. The ramp sloped down in a wide loop, ending in a large round room. Like the ramp, it was not what one would expect in a house. The floor was made of earth and in fact had grass growing in soft green clumps. Above their heads was the open blue sky, framed by wooden beams. Harry couldn't tell if there was glass there or a spell or if the weather was allowed to come in at will but if it weren't for the stone walls or wooden beams he might have thought he was outdoors.

Despite the odd choice of flooring, there were fairly normal looking couches, chairs and tables along the edges of the room facing inwards, as well as less traditional piles of cushions, stone benches, and next to a ramp on the far side of the room there was an elaborate set up of large tree branches so that the crown of a giant tree seemed to have melted into floor. It even had broad green leaves growing from it. Harry studied the room with interest, itching to explore, while at the same time he hid beneath Snape's arms. They were not alone in this room.

Lounging on the tree branches and cushions or sitting in the chairs or standing calmly about the room were people. Some of them looked like great black panthers. Others looked like perfectly normal humans, dressed alternatively in robes or Muggle style clothes. If any of them had noticed Snape and Harry's arrival, they were doing their best to appear oblivious. Snape took no notice of them as well, carrying Harry over to a small sofa. He carefully extracted him from his robes, a task made more difficult by Harry's claws, and set him down on a cushion.

“Relax,” Snape whispered when Harry hunched up tensely, feeling naked and out in the open, “I'm right here.” Snape stayed standing, probably guessing that the moment he sat down Harry would try and dive beneath the folds of his robes again. When none of the people in the room approached them, the cub began to slowly relax. He began to feel silly again. Snape wasn't going to abandon him, none of the people were going to hurt him, so why was he acting like such a baby?

“Are you ready to meet them?” Snape asked. Harry nodded, still feeling nervous but no longer overpowered by his emotions. He half expected the strangers to mob them, pushing in to meet him like wizards did when they realized the great Harry Potter was in their presence. He always hated that. But to his surprise, he only saw one person approaching.

It was a woman, a human looking woman. Or at least, a mostly human looking woman. Like Harry, she had pointed ears and even without them there was something decidedly feline about her appearance. She also had long black hair and vivid blue eyes. Harry thought she felt calming, though still not as safe as Snape.

“Welcome, senos,” she greeted Snape.

“Welcome, sentei,” he answered in return, and then they both turned towards Harry.

“Harry, this is Basta,” Snape instructed, “Basta, this is Harry.”

“Welcome, hysenos,” Basta said to him. Harry cocked his head in confusion. She smiled and said, “Hysenos means 'little brother' in the Old Tongue of the sphinx. Hee-seh-nos. We like to greet each other in the old ways, even when we adapt to modern times.” Harry mewled, wishing he could speak. He wondered if he was supposed to learn an entire language.

“Don't worry,” Snape told him, “You have years to learn your culture. Hundreds of years, even. Basta is over five hundred years old, and she is one of the younger clan members.” Harry blinked. Somehow he had never really considered what it would mean to be so long lived. All he had been able to think about was how he would have to grow up all over again. He wasn't sure whether he liked the idea or not.

“Severus is quite the youngling of the clan,” Basta agreed, “Before you, he was the baby.”

“Youngest,” Snape corrected, his tone daring contradiction, “I was never a cub.” Harry laughed at Snape's expression. It came out as a purr. But then a thought occurred to him that made him suddenly afraid. Did that mean that Snape would not live as long as a real sphinx?

“Do not worry, hysenos,” Basta said, “We cannot know the future, but I predict Severus will live a prolonged life.” Harry relaxed slightly, but still felt troubled. He did not want to live hundreds and hundreds of years longer than all of his friends.

“May I greet you in my changed form?” Basta asked, and Harry nodded, though he didn't really know what she meant. Then she shifted, becoming a panther. He could still recognize her by her vivid blue eyes, and something else. There was something distinctive about the panther that said 'Basta'. Harry didn't know if it was her scent or something else, but he suspected he would know she was there even if he had his eyes closed. The panther leaned towards him until their noses were practically touching.

Welcome little brother, he heard, and then she nuzzled her head against his, sniffing at his bandage and otherwise looking him over.

'Hello', Harry tried to think towards her, but he could not tell if he succeeded. Finally, she stepped back.

I am happy to meet you, cub, her voice said and he could hear her sincerity in his head. With this mind speaking, there was no lying. Then she walked away. Another person approached them, again in human form. This time it was a man with his black hair streaked grey, though he otherwise did not look old. Like Snape he wore a robe, but it wasn't like any wizarding robe that Harry had ever seen. It was dyed in vivid earth tones that contrasted well with his dark black skin.

“Welcome, Severus,” the man said, his voice deep and warm, “Welcome, young cub. I am Phuros Rummel.” He smiled down at Harry. “Most call me Roo. You may do the same.”

“Roo is the clan leader,” Snape told Harry, “That is what his title, Phuros, means.” Then Roo also changed into a panther, after asking Harry's permission, and looked him over in much the same way Basta had. Normally, all of this close attention would be making Harry nervous, but somehow in cat form, it felt natural. He could learn the feel of Roo's presence, get to know his scent while the panther did the same with him. And at least they weren't getting to know each other the way he'd seen dogs do.

After Roo, Harry met Bet and Nefirei, two females who cooed over Harry like two overbearing aunts, luckily more of a Weasley persuasion than a Dursley. Harry endured their fussing, and genuinely enjoyed the splashes of affection they sent his way. Then came Udro, the only person in the room who was wearing an actual suit and tie. He reminded Harry of a black-haired Percy. His greeting was exact to the point where he shook Harry's paw, and even in panther form he held himself stiff and formal. His touch was clinical, like an etiquette lesson rather than a friendly conversation.

After him, it was a relief to meet Shura, Jag, and their cub, Neffy. Neffy was an adolescent still at one hundred and eight years, almost a hundred years before her first coming of age, and she seemed absolutely delighted at Harry's arrival.

“I'm your alsentei!” she informed him excitedly, “That means big sister. I can help you to learn everything. I've lived here all my life, and I know what it's like to be the youngest, well, Sev was really the youngest but everyone treats him like he's older, something about being 'more mature', but anyway I can show you around and I know all the best secret places, and everything!”

“Breathe, Neffy,” her mother admonished, sounding half amused and half apologetic.

“She is excited to have another cub in the clan,” Jag added.

“You don't say,” Snape answered with a raised eyebrow. Neffy rolled her eyes.

After the small family left, two males named Adam and Orph approached in their panther forms. They introduced themselves directly into Harry's mind. There presence, though powerful, felt calming after the whirlwind that was Neffy. After that couple came a large female called Helen who told Harry he was welcome in her kitchen any time. Finally there came Eva, Alex, and Orth, making up the last of those present in the room. Considering that Harry had half been expecting a hundred clan members, the introductions hadn't been too difficult at all. And now that he recognized everyone in the room, he felt his anxieties evaporating, being replaced with an avid curiosity.

Unfortunately, the curiosity was tempered by a growing drowsiness.

“There, see, that wasn't so bad,” Snape said, “Unlike with humans, we can use a little basic consideration when we meet new people.” Harry agreed that it definitely beat his introduction to the wizarding world. He struggled not to yawn while he looked around the room with new interest. He noticed that there were two ramps leading to the upper floors, and beneath the ramps two doorways leading into wide, airy hallways. He wondered how big the house was, and if the clan lived there or if it was just a meeting place. When he had first woken up in the bedroom, he had assumed that he was wherever Snape lived when he wasn't at Hogwarts. Now he didn't know, but he definitely wanted to explore. Unfortunately, Snape had other plans.

“I think this was enough excitement for one afternoon,” he said, “Perhaps it would be best if we returned to the room.” Harry tried to glare at him in disagreement, but that was when the yawn finally escaped.

“You are still healing,” Snape answered anyway, “You need more sleep to heal. As well as for your body to adapt to all its changes.” Then he scooped Harry up without waiting for any more arguments, or as much as Harry could argue not having learned how to mind speak. Just as when they entered, they left the room in silence, though Neffy did send an enthusiastic goodbye towards them. Harry was asleep before they made it up the ramp.

He dreamed about hunting again. The dream morphed into reality when he heard a ferocious snarl. Snape was standing over him, hiding him beneath his belly, with his hair raised on end and a rumble in his throat. A stranger had entered the room.

Harry had time to see that the stranger looked very familiar before he was suddenly overwhelmed in an unfamiliar essence. He felt nothing like the sphinx. Though there was nothing of hatred or fear that the Dursleys had stunk of, the man gave off a power and strength that sent Harry cowering further beneath his guardian. It was like being caught beneath a giant ringing bell, when the sound becomes so strong you feel it rather than hear it.

Then Snape's personal essence came between them like a shield, like he had been trying to do all along. Only then could Harry pay attention properly. To his surprise, it wasn't a ferocious monster at the door but someone he knew well. Dumbledore had arrived. Harry had a chance to see the man's blue eyes opened wide at the snarling panther and then another man was at the door, jerking Dumbledore backwards and out of the room. The door closed behind them, but they were still able to hear. There was a lot of shouting between the man and the headmaster. Harry found he could recognize the other man as well now, though Snape's shield kept him from sensing the sphinx as well as the wizard. It was Roo, the clan leader.

“Even we would not enter that room unasked!” he heard Roo growl, “Never approach a newly formed cub and its guardian without warning!”

“I only wanted to see that Harry...” Dumbledore answered calmly, though his voice was not nearly as steady as it normally was.

“And you could have seriously hurt him,” Roo growled back, “He isn't ready. You're lucky you weren't killed by his guardian.”

“Yes, well...” Dumbledore said, his voice sounding even more shaken. Then the voices grew lower and moved away, beyond their hearing. Snape continued to stare tensely at the door, his hair on end. Harry could feel his essence wrapped tightly around him like a blanket, calming in spite of how tightly wound the panther was. When Snape was sure no one would be coming back, he finally relaxed his guard on the door and started to inspect Harry, nuzzling him with his nose in concern. Finally, he changed back into a man so that he could use his hands and check on Harry's wound, unwinding the bandages.

When he was satisfied that the bite was healing nicely, he re-bandaged the shoulder and finally settled down. Harry was over the entire experience by then and was curious to know what that was all about. Unable to ask any questions, he had to settled for a questioning mewl. Luckily, Snape seemed to recognize that Harry would want to know what had happened.

“There is a reason you have not had visitors and the only people you have seen so far are pride,” Snape told him, “You have certainly already noticed your enhanced senses. Perhaps you have noticed some new senses; that you can feel other's emotions or presence. This is part of your sphinx heritage. Because you don't have any control over these senses at the moment, combined with your injury and your youth, you are at the moment completely open to the influence others project. The sphinx know how to shield themselves, particularly when interacting with you. Humans, who don't have these senses and therefore never felt the need to learn control, do not know how to shield themselves. Until you can return to your humanoid form, at which point your new senses will be somewhat muted, or until you can learn to shield against projections, it is not safe for you to be around others.”

Harry could understand that. He never wanted to experience anything like that again. He wondered how much Dumbledore knew about the sphinx. Surely not very much if he was willing to barge in there like that. Yet he knew where Harry was, so he must know something.

“Dumbledore,” Snape snarled, “Is a very powerful wizard who lacks common sense. I told him you could not be seen yet, so of course he takes it upon himself to come anyway. He wanted you to be taken to Hogwarts to be looked after by Madam Pomfrey. I told him she wouldn't begin to know how to treat a sphinx. Potions and salves that would heal a human wizard instantly would likely either not work at all, make things worse, or send the you into a coma. Sphinxes do not react the same way as humans to magic. Perhaps I should have explained to Dumbledore in more detail exactly why his desire to interfere is such a bad idea.”

Then Snape sighed, and finally let go of the last of his tension. “I could have killed the old fool,” he mumbled, “I almost attacked before I saw who it was.” Harry shuddered. That would not have been a happy thing to wake up to, seeing Snape ripping the headmaster to shreds. “I should have explained more clearly,” he continued, now seeming to be talking to himself, “But the sphinx don't like to be known by outsiders. You will find little written in books on them, unless it was written by themselves in languages so old few could even begin to read them.”

Harry considered this. Despite all the changes he had gone through, this was the first time it occurred to him that he really wasn't human. Before, he had been imagining himself to be more like a very long lived animagus. But he wasn't really that at all. Surprisingly, he didn't think he minded. For once in his life, even though he knew he was different he didn't feel like a freak. He didn't know if this was because he had met others like him or if it was because of his connection with Snape, but he liked the feeling. Then there was a knock at the door.

Snape opened it cautiously, but when he saw who was on the other side he let them in. Roo came in first, dragging behind him a very contrite looking sphinx. He was the one who reminded Harry of Percy and Harry had to struggle to remember his real name: Udro.

“ Phuros Rummel, Udro,” Snape greeted them, eyeing the man in the tie coldly.

“Welcome, Severus, Harry,” Roo answered, “Udro here has something to say to you.” He pushed the man forward.

“I'm sorry I let in the human and then left him alone to find the phuros,” Udro said, his tone unwavering and polite, but he did not lift his eyes from the floor to look at Harry or Snape, “I did not realize he would wander off to find you on his own. I did not think he could with the shielding on the rooms.”

“Wizard magic works differently than sphinx magic,” Snape answered coldly, “The room wards are meant to shield our senses, not wizard spells. It is assumed the wizard wardings on the outside wall shields would be enough to keep them out.”

“Perhaps we should remedy that,” Roo said, not sounding pleased, “We are not used to allowing wizards into our home. And Udro, what should you have done?”

“I should have left him outside or remained with him and shouted for you to come,” Udro answered instantly, “I should not have left him alone. But I knew he was a friend and I didn't think...”

“Perhaps you should think, next time,” Roo growled, “You will go into service for a month. Report to Helen.” Udro nodded, bowed his head towards Snape and Harry, and then left. Roo's forbidding manner relaxed as he left.

“I am truly sorry, Severus,” he said, “We have spoken with that man, Dumbledore. He will not make the same mistake again.” Snape nodded his head in response. Then Roo turned his attention towards Harry, his features visibly softening into a gentle smile. “And how are you, young cub?” he asked, greeting him with soothing vibes. Harry squirmed slightly, unused to the attention. It felt embarrassing and nice at the same time. He didn't know how to deal with it.

“Harry is doing much better,” Snape answered for him, “He will be ready to begin lessons and explore in no time.”

“That is good,” Roo said, “Get well quickly, young cub. I know that young Neffy is looking forward to having a playmate.”

The following week was spent in much the same way as before. He would sleep, eat, and use the litter box in the room, seeing only Snape, and sometimes he would be taken down to see the others in the large round room. He was even allowed to walk by himself for a little bit, so long as he didn't try to use his left front paw. And Snape or one of the other sphinx would tell him more about what he was. He learned that sphinxes, by nature, tended towards contradiction. They were social creatures and yet fiercely independent. The panther pride was large, as Snape had first told Harry, but they were very rarely altogether at once. The sphinx as a race were divided first by pride, which were distinguished from one another by the cat species, and each pride was further divided into clans. This, of course, implied animosity or conflict between prides or clans. Otherwise, why would they divide themselves up like that? Harry imagined them at best like the Hogwarts houses, constantly competing, and at worse locked in some sort of civil feud.

But there didn't seem to be any such conflict. They divided themselves in this way because they found it convenient. The needs of a panther differed from those of another type of cat. Some sphinx were drastically smaller or larger than others, some more inclined towards heat or cold, and some didn't like to gather into a group at all, preferring to live alone. The house they were currently in was designed specifically with a panther in mind, and the magics involved were in tune with panther magic. Apparently this differed slightly between prides as well.

“Even if we hated each other,” Basta informed Harry during one of these culture lessons, “We wouldn't dare to start fighting. We can't afford to. We are slow to reproduce but we are long lived. If we started killing each other off, our numbers would drop very quickly but rise again very slowly. This is also why we like to separate ourselves from the human and wizard worlds. We cannot afford to be drawn into their conflicts.” Harry wasn't sure if he agreed with that, but he still hadn't mastered speech yet and didn't have any way to argue. But he was certain that people like Voldemort were everyone's problem.

“But we don't hate each other,” Neffy exclaimed happily, “I have friends in other prides. There aren't many who are close to my age in our own. But I don't get to see them very often, just in the mindmeets or during gatherings.”

Basta also went on into great detail about how the different magics interact and how sphinxes heal and why Harry was healing so slowly, though quicker than he would if he were a regular panther cub. Harry understood very little of what she said. Something about how his own magic would fight off potions as though they were poisons, and how this would sometimes cause harm to him unless the person making the potion knew what they were doing. Apparently Snape did know what he was doing.

Mostly, Harry just enjoyed the attention. Beyond feeling safe or cared for, he was beginning to feel actually wanted. Cubs were rarely born and even more rarely awakened out of wizard children, and as such were viewed as something precious. For the first time in his life, Harry truly knew what it was like to have a family, and not just borrowing someone else's like with the Weasleys or only just visiting like he had Sirius. Those visits had been something like this, for a short while, but then his godfather had died. And no matter where he wished he could stay, at Hogwarts or the Weasleys or with Sirius, he had always wound up back at the Dursleys. Snape promised he would never have to go back. People who were able to scare him enough that he transformed into his cat self, and then who set a dog on him, were obviously not fit to be guardians. For the first time in his life, he had a home.

And now his shoulder was almost healed. Soon, he would begin to learn what he really wanted to know. How to be a sphinx.

Harry had assumed that learning how to switch back and forth between being a cat and being a boy would be extremely difficult. After all, to become an animagus took years and years of difficult study and hard work. And he thought that surely learning to 'mindspeak', as their cat form telepathy was apparently called, would be fairly easy. All he needed to do was think at people. He was wrong.

He awoke one morning curled up in bed as a very naked boy with a very intense pain in his shoulder. A paw reached out with claws extended and a moment later very tight bandages were ripped from his shoulder. As soon as the pain was gone, Harry was suddenly very aware that he was lying on top of the bed without even a sheet to hide him. Snape, still in his panther form, gave him an amused look as Harry frantically tried to wrap the blanket around himself. A moment later Snape stood next to him, wearing his usual black robe, and offered him a smaller one from his closet. He even turned around while Harry pulled it on. Not surprisingly it was too large on the boy; no one had been able to take his measurements while he was in cat form, but it was still a much better fit than Harry's old robe had been.

Once he was decent, he stood in the middle of the room, holding his robe on tightly. Snape turned around slowly, giving the boy plenty of time to shout if he wasn't dressed, until they stood facing one another. Harry was suddenly extremely nervous. He had thought he wanted to be a human again, to be able to have thumbs and speak his mind. But now that it had happened, he was immediately reminded that this was Snape. If there was one thing he had thought he'd known for the past six years, it was that Snape hated Harry. And now that he wasn't a cub anymore, he became afraid. What if the man suddenly remembered who he was and hated him again? He was so caught up in nerves that he shrank back when Snape approached.

But the pale features did not twist into the familiar sneer. They twitched slightly but otherwise remained perfectly neutral. “Let me see your shoulder,” he said, his voice calm and without a hint of derision. Harry nodded and allowed a portion of the large robe to be pulled back. Large hands guided him gently towards the bed. Sitting down, Harry looked up and up at the giant of a man before him. He had half forgotten about how he had shrunk before he turned into a cub. In fact, he had somehow managed not to think about anything of his old life. Now, forcibly reminded, he suddenly remembered his uncle towering over him, raining down putrid hatred, flanked by his aunt and cousin. Harry shrank back again, his breathing quickening. A hand on his good shoulder drew him back, a sudden wave of calm falling over him like a blanket.

“You are safe here, child,” Snape growled, somehow managing to sound dangerous and safe at the same time, and Harry looked up into intense dark eyes. He knew that the danger was not for him.

“You can still read my thoughts like this?” Harry asked, trying not to wince at his own voice. It was a child's voice and, at that moment, weak and trembling. Snape smirked gently.

“Legilimens,” he answered and Harry blushed. “Though once you are practised you should still be able to mindspeak in either form, though you will find many of your other new senses greatly muted in this form. You should, for instance, have less trouble being around those of strong presence like the esteemed headmaster.” Then the potions master turned his gaze to Harry's shoulder, his fingers probing at the wound gently.

“Why does it take so long to heal?” Harry asked, trying not to pull away or fidget.

“We explained the trouble with using the normal healing methods?” Snape asked, though most of his attention remained upon his task.

“Yes,” Harry answered, feeling strangely pleased to be able to respond verbally. It had been really annoying to be full of questions and not be able to ask them.

“That is part of the problem with your healing,” the man continued, as he went to gather new bandages. Harry turned his head down, trying to get a glimpse of his own shoulder. The angle was awkward and all he managed was to get an idea of red and white flesh. “Normally, the sphinx have their own methods of healing,” Snape continued as he returned, bandages in one hand and a salve in the other, “Not least of which is the ability to heal very quickly from most wounds. Unfortunately, like most magical creatures with extreme healing capabilities, the sphinx have a weakness. They are the natural enemy of the nubis'wi.” At Harry's blank expression, Snape explained further, saying, “also known as were-jackals or were-hounds. Even as werewolves.” Then the boy's eyes widened.

“Like Remus?” he asked.

“Not quite,” Snape answered, his face twisting unpleasantly at the thought of the werewolf, “These are not wizards turned to beasts at the full moon. They are beasts with the ability to take a humanoid form at will, much as the sphinx. Unlike the sphinx, their beast is that of canines: wolves or jackals or hyenas. They are vicious and cruel and to the sphinx they can be deadly. Their saliva and blood is venomous to us, and their magic does not react well with ours. This has been passed down, though diluted into all breeds of canine so that even a perfectly normal Muggle pet has the ability to cause serious damage. That is why your shoulder has been so slow to heal.”

“But it will heal, right?” Harry asked, suddenly worried. He was so used to magic being able to fix anything that the possibility hadn't even occurred to him before that moment. Snape's hesitation did not help.

“It will heal,” he said at last, “It is already much healed; you would not have been able to change into your human form if it wasn't. Though there will likely be a scar.” Harry nodded, then shivered. No one had mentioned anything about such enemies before.

“You said 'us',” Harry said suddenly, “That they are venomous 'to us'. Can they hurt you, too?”

“It is complicated,” Snape answered, “I am not a full blooded sphinx in the same way you are, but I have enough blood to be recognized as one. If I were merely a wizard with an animagus of a panther, than the nubis'wi would be no more deadly than any viscous beast is capable of being. But because of that sphinx blood, my animagus form has changed me. I am sphinx enough to be hurt the same as you.”

“Is that why you never liked Sirius or Remus?” Harry asked, and then blushed, biting his lip. He hadn't meant to bring up his godfather. But to his surprise Snape didn't start to deride either of the mentioned men.

“That might have been part of it,” he admitted, his voice neutral, and he let the matter drop.

Once Harry's shoulder was tended to, Snape insisted on giving Harry a full medical evaluation, making notes on his height and weight and comparing them to his original human form. Then he brought them both breakfast and Harry enjoyed his first human meal in a long time. It was only when all that was finished and Snape was resizing his robe to fit him that Harry began to consider what would happen next.

“Professor,” he said, his voice wavering slightly because he didn't really know what to call Snape, “What happened to my wand, and all my things?”

“They're safe,” Snape answered, “When I first collected you I informed Dumbledore of the situation and I believe he sent someone to retrieve them. The headmaster then decided bringing you your things was the perfect opportunity to check up on you. I believe you remember the consequences of that action.” Harry nodded, but his mind was still on the Dursleys and not the disaster of the headmaster's visit.

“I don't really remember much about when you came,” Harry said, “Can you tell me what happened, exactly?” Snape considered for a moment.

“What I know is that I was in London when I sensed a cub's distress. I didn't know it was you, but I knew you were alone. So I came as quickly as I could. I must have been the closest sphinx to you because normally a distress call wouldn't reach that far. Or perhaps it is simply that we knew each other and that familiarity affected the call. At any rate, I arrived and found you in the clutches of that...beast. Those....your relatives...seemed reluctant to interfere. So I did. And I brought you here. When we were sure you would be all right, and that you would not wake up any time soon, I left you with Roo and reported to Dumbledore. He, of course, knew the moment you left your relatives' house due to the wards. He had also received a rather curious letter from you, speaking of your changes in a dramatically vague manner. From his own investigation he knew that you had turned into a 'large black beast' and then been set upon by your aunt's dog and injured. You were then kidnapped by a gigantic black panther. From this story he was able to guess what had happened, but he was relieved to hear from me all the same.”

“But what happened to the Dursleys and Aunt Marge? Did you kill the dog?” Harry asked, feeling slightly troubled. On the one hand, they were his family even if they didn't like each other and he shouldn't want anything bad to happen to them. On the other hand, he still remembered the raw feeling of their hatred and fear, he could still hear the screams of 'kill it, kill it!' ringing in his ears. It was distressing to realize that they really did hate him that much; that there didn't even seem to be a small shred of affection directed his way. He had known it before, but he had never really known it.

“The Dursleys have had their memories altered. You will not be returning to them. You have a home here now; we will protect you from any outside threats.” That he would also be safe from inside threats went unspoken. That could never have been said of the Dursleys. Harry felt warmed by this, and for the first time he didn't think it had anything to do with Snape's projected peace.

“Now,” Snape said, “if you are strong enough to take this form then I believe you should practice changing back and forth. This time, see if you can alter the clothes and bandages. I would prefer to not have to fix them every time you change form.”

“How?” Harry asked, frowning slightly. He had been looking forward to being in boy form again. He was afraid to change back into a cub and be stuck again.

“I believe it is a matter of will. I will show you once, and then you try.” Harry was about to ask another question when he felt Snape's presence more strongly in his mind. He felt it as Snape shifted form, the way his robes were an extension of his body. Soon there was a panther standing in front of him. Then there was a man again, his robes billowing around him.

The change back into cub form was infinitely easier than Harry expected. He even managed to shift his robes with him. Unfortunately, he also shifted the bandages, but not in the way Snape had indicated. They vanished completely in the same way his robes did. A moment later, Harry was a boy again, wearing both robes and bandages. He rubbed his shoulder reflexively and Snape sighed.

“Again.” He managed to shift the bandages properly only after Snape bound himself in a similar manner and showed him. From that point on, he had no trouble changing at will, though if he practised at it too long it made him tired and his shoulder achy. He couldn't wait to show the rest of his new family. Now if only learning to speak with his mind was that easy.

For the first time ever, Harry walked at Snape's side down the ramp and into the round room. He found it stranger than he expected. He had gotten so used to his panther senses that without them it felt rather like they were entering a lifelike painting and not the familiar common room. He could still smell the grass and sense the presence of his family, but so muted he had to work to understand what he sensed.

The room was more empty than his first visit had been; Harry had gotten the sense that the sphinx only all gathered together like that when summoned for a specific purpose like meeting a new clan member. Harry had only just processed this when he was approached by the very enthusiastic wind storm that was Neffy. She bounded towards him as a panther but just when it seemed they were about to collide she shifted, standing before him as a girl with long black curls.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, grabbing him in a hug, thankfully careful of his hurt shoulder. Harry glanced up towards Snape with a pleading look but the professor only snorted in amusement, leaving the boy to his fate. “You look good, hysenos!” Neffy continued excitedly, “You must be getting better now, and now we can explore properly and I can show you all around and everything!”

“Gently, musei,” Snape instructed, “Let him breathe. And remember we must go slow.”

“But he'll be leaving in a couple weeks,” Neffy answered, a definite pout on her face. Harry, who had been pouting slightly himself at being talked about like that, now found himself staring up at Snape again in surprise. This was the first time anyone mentioned to him that he would be leaving in two weeks.

“September, musos,” Snape answered the look, “Or did you not want to finish your seventh year?” Harry ignored the sarcasm in favour of the unfamiliar words.

“Why do you keep calling us moose?” he asked. Neffy giggled at his mangling of the ancient tongue.

“It means 'child' or 'cub',” she answered, “musei if you're a girl, musos if you're a boy.” Then she frowned up at Snape, saying, “I'm not so young, you know.” Snape merely raised an eyebrow, looking down towards her as though to compare her height to his. There was a significant difference, though not nearly so much as between Snape and Harry. If Harry had to guess, from a human perspective, he would have guessed her to be around eleven years old. He did not even want to think about how young he must look by comparison. Like a five year old boy, he imagined.

“More like four,” Snape said suddenly, startling Harry and causing him to glare; he hated when Snape read his mind like that. He could never even be certain if the man was actually reading his mind or just guessing his thoughts. “You are small for your age,” the man had the gall to add. Neffy giggled again. Harry noticed she did that a lot. At least it wasn't an annoying giggle like some girls he had met.

“It isn't that bad, Harry,” she said, “Just wait until you see a four year old cub. You'll feel a giant in comparison.”

“I was six feet tall,” Harry answered gloomily, “Finally. Do you know how long it took me to get that tall? Right up to my seventeenth birthday. And now I'm back at the starting line with hundreds of years until I'm tall again, it seems. I'll have to go through puberty all over again!”

“Puberty isn't nearly as bad a stage for the sphinx,” Snape informed him, “Probably because it happens so slowly. No growing pains, no sudden growth spurts or awkward limbs and the like. No menstrual cycles for girls.” Harry blushed at that, Neffy merely looked confused as though the term was unfamiliar, but Snape didn't seem to be finished. “Of course, you still get hair in new places. Though strangely enough it tends to be sparser than in humans. You'd think, considering the hairy nature of our alternate bodies, the opposite would be true.” Now, even Neffy blushed. “And you'll find the sexual appetite to be much less...”

“Sev!” Neffy shrieked, at the same time Harry cried, “I've heard enough!” as he put his hands over his ears. Far from simply being embarrassed by Snape's talk, he actually found the thought of sex to be, for lack of a better word, icky. And this was even when he had experience, if not with actual sex, then with the cravings and pleasures it could produce. Apparently being reduced in size had done more than just shrink certain body parts.

“Well,” Snape continued, clearly enjoying himself, “Let me just say that interest will be reserved for one's mate and leave it at that.”

“Can we go now?” Neffy demanded, “I want to show Harry everything!”

“All right,” Snape answered, with a sigh as though bereft, “If you must.” Then, in a more serious and alarmingly paternal tone, he continued saying, “But go slowly. And if Harry gets tired, or if his shoulder starts to hurt again, bring him back right away. Harry, tell her if you need to come back. I'll be waiting right here until you return.”

“Right, Dad,” Harry answered, rolling his eyes slightly in annoyance. He didn't care how young he looked, he maintained that he was seventeen and did know how to look after himself. At his words Snape looked startled, a strange look appearing. Then it was smoothed away into the familiar smirk.

“All right, child, go on then,” he said, making an elaborate sweeping gesture away from him before he shifted into panther form and glided towards Neffy's parents.

“Well, come on!” Neffy exclaimed, while Harry watched Snape walk away, “Let's start with the kitchen!” And she led him away at what could barely be considered a sedate pace towards one of the arched entrances to a hallway beneath the ramp. Harry allowed himself to be led, his curiosity overcoming his nervousness at parting company with the man. Besides, he felt comfortable in this place; everywhere felt like his family, even with his senses muted, and he was curious to know more than the bedroom and the common room.

“This way is all of the rooms we all use,” Neffy continued, “There's a dining room, and rooms to relax in or meet in and a potions lab and research room and the smaller boring library. It's all medical and law books. Upstairs above us are the warded rooms for those who are sick or just tired or want to let down their shields for a bit for whatever reason. That's where you're staying, obviously. The whole manor is kind of like a giant V, you see, with the gardens in the middle and parkland all around and the high wall around that, and all of it warded of course. The family rooms are all in the other wing, mostly up the ramp. In the other wing on the ground are the practice rooms and research and the fun large library, the one with books on history and culture and stories, and finally there's the game room.”

Harry wondered how she managed to breathe, talk, and still keep up her half skipping as she led him down the hall. He doubted he would remember half of what she told him. Luckily, he didn't have to because she paused beside doors to show him inside on their way, and he had always learned best by experience so he knew he'd find his way around fairly well once he had seen everything. After all, the halls weren't nearly as confusing as in Hogwarts, there being only two main ones as far as he could tell, and an upstairs and a downstairs. She paused shortly to show him a room with a large table surrounded by chairs alternating with raised ledges tree limbs, he supposed as a place for panthers to lounge. This turned out to be one of the meeting rooms. Another meeting room was just as large but without a table and a lot more pillows. Then she showed him a closed door, informing him it was the potions lab but they weren't allowed inside, and next to that she briefly let him look in at the library. If this was the small library, Harry couldn't wait to see the large one. This one in itself was a large room crammed full with books all the way to the ceiling, and there was a winding ramp that led up to the second floor.

“Boring, like I said,” Neffy insisted, “They're all about healing or potions or law.” Then they went on and finally reached the dining room. By this time, Harry found to his disappointment that he was indeed growing tired. Neffy also finally noticed that he had grown rather out of breath and she obviously felt guilty that she apparently hadn't been leading him slowly enough. At least Harry was able to see the room properly, without being dragged away by his enthusiastic companion. Neffy insisted most of the rooms down this wing were dull, except of course the kitchen which was apparently one of the most fantastic places in all the house. Harry suspected she was feeling hungry.

The dining room, far from being boring, was one of the more interesting examples Harry had found of the difference between a human's needs and a panther's. There was a table, of course, a great round one that filled most of the large room, but without a centre. The table itself was of elegant design, and from the chair where Harry sat, his nose came right up against an intricate carving designed after a jungle. Though there were no gaps in the circle of the table, it was not entirely flat for there were two places where it was raised to allow easy passage beneath, assuming the one who wanted to pass was not particularly tall. It was obviously designed for a panther, in fact, and Harry was slightly embarrassed to realize he could probably pass under the arch without ducking his head.

All along the inner ring ran a sort of bench which would allow a panther to sit without difficulty in reaching their plate. And within the first table at the centre of the empty space there was a second table, this one solidly round, but lower as though designed with children in mind.

“We only eat here when he have a gathering,” Neffy informed him, “Usually we eat in the smaller dining room near our family rooms, or in our family rooms. Or in the kitchen if it is between meals. We are usually too few to use all this space.” Harry nodded his understanding. Once he felt he had rested long enough he stood up and Neffy took his hand again. As though to make up for before, she led him infuriatingly slowly down the remaining distance to the kitchen. It was on the other side of the dining room, which the hallway had ended in. Then she pushed open a small door and they stepped through. The moment they were through, they were beset by sudden noise and smells and Harry jumped, squeezing Neffy's hand hard.

“It's all right, it's always like this,” Neffy said to him, in what was meant to be a whisper, but because of the noise came out as a quiet yell. Harry nodded, feeling a little silly. As far as kitchens went, it looked rather similar to the one at Hogwarts, though with more fireplaces and no long tables. There were house elves, though, and Harry had a sudden vision of Hermione scowling down on them. He giggled at the thought without meaning to, and quickly covered his mouth and glanced around to make sure no one had noticed. It seemed no one had. Neffy was already speaking to the elves, who had come over to see what they could do for her with the usual house elf eagerness. Harry was rather alarmed to find himself close to their height. He avoided getting close enough to make certain which of them was taller.

“And who is this getting the elves all riled up when we're meant to be getting dinner ready?” a loud boisterous voice demanded, and the sphinx Harry recognized as Helen approached them, flanked by a silent and slumped looking Udro. His nice suit was now covered in flour and something red that could have been a sauce but smelled rather like blood. Harry remembered suddenly how Roo had ordered him into service and wondered if this was what he had meant. Udro looked utterly miserable.

“I was just showing Harry here around the manor,” Neffy was quick to explain, “He had grown stronger, see, and can change his form, and since it's his shoulder that's hurt and not his legs, Sev said he could walk about so long as he took it easy. So I took him here, but of course he is still kind of weak, and I thought it might help if he ate something.” Here she nudged Harry slightly, encouraging him to back her up. For once Harry didn't take offence at the weak comment, but played into it, looking up at Helen in what he hoped was a pitiable expression. It must have worked, because her stern expression melted away. She swept down upon him with smothering kindness, and elves delightedly set about making up a fair feast for them.

“Ah, musos,” she cried, “what has that man been feeding you?” Harry was thankful to know that she wasn't calling him a moose. Neffy seemed thankful that it was Harry being smothered and not her being scolded. The house elves seemed happy that they were allowed to spoil the children for once. Even Udro seemed more relaxed, if not exactly happy. It was nearly half an hour later before the children managed to escape, much fuller than before. Harry was so full, in fact, that he had to dart into the room Neffy had pointed out a as a restroom to be sick. He was slightly startled to find that, along with the usual toilet, there was a large pit of sand in the place one normally found urinals. Harry felt slightly better about having to use a litter box after that.

By the time they made it back to the common room where Snape was waiting, Harry was half asleep on his feet. Much to Neffy's disappointment, the tour of the rest of the manor would have to wait for another day. It was only sheer determination that had Harry walking back to their room at Snape's side, and not being carried, listening all the way to Snape's 'you should have taken it easy' speech. He was asleep the moment his head hit his pillow. When he awoke again, it was to the sound of an alarm wailing throughout the building.

Harry sat up at once, trying to blink away the groggy feeling. He had an idea that he was late for some place. It was only when he was halfway to the door that he realized the wailing had nothing to do with him and feeling much more awake he tried to think what it could mean. If this were a Muggle building it could have been a fire alarm, but somehow he didn't think it was. Beginning to feel anxious, he looked about for Snape but didn't see him. Suddenly, the door burst open, narrowly missing him, and Snape dashed in. He looked about, then down towards Harry.

“Go through the fireplace,” he ordered, his voice as stern and forbidding as Harry had ever heard it, “Wait there and do not leave until I come to get you.” Harry nodded, knowing this was not the moment to argue, but hesitated when he turned towards the small fireplace and saw a strange blue fire blazing in it. Snape didn't give him a chance to hesitate long, shoving him forward into the flame.

It didn't burn, but acted just as though someone had thrown down a pinch of floo powder and shouted an address. Harry found himself tumbling out of a much larger fireplace into a very strange room. Harry stumbled a bit and fell back into his panther shape. He only managed a quick glance about the room before a familiar form was bounding up to him, also as a panther and sending off waves of distress. A house elf stood at her side, wringing his hands anxiously. Other than the three of them, the room was empty. At least the annoying wailing hadn't followed them into the room.

'Little brother Harry,' the other panther cried, somehow managing Neffy's youthful tone though mind speak tended to smooth away accents. As Snape had explained it, during one of the many times he had attempted to teach it to Harry, the mind interpreted what the person meant into words the receiver, or listener, best understood. Neffy could have been speaking the words in Chinese and Harry would still hear English. Now that he was feeling calmer, and having a million questions, Harry changed back into boy form. Neffy copied him, and Harry took a moment to look around and collect his bearings.

The room was large and round and had no doors or windows, but most all the wall was covered in large fireplaces, all with blue flame that gave off no heat or smoke burning fiercely. Above the fireplaces, where one might normally see chimneys, were row upon row of cabinets rising right up to the curved dome ceiling. About the room were beds and cushions, and at the centre on the floor was a large pool.

“Where are we?” Harry asked, “What is going on?”

“It's the safe room, where they send the wounded and children,” Neffy answered, her voice excited and anxious and indignant all at once. “Whenever the alarms go off, all the fire places change to open here. But only we can get through, if someone who wasn't known by the manor tried it, they'd go to one of the cells.” At Harry's expression, she hastened to say, “Not horrible cells, you know, just small rooms with a bed and toilet and no way out. They're all warded.”

“But why did the alarms go off?” Harry demanded, “Where is everyone else?”

“I don't know,” Neffy answered, “My dad ordered me through the fireplace as soon as it started.”

“Snape did the same to me,” Harry answered, worrying a bit at his lip. It was times like this that he most felt the real difference between being a seventeen year old human and a seventeen year old sphinx. As a human, he was certain he wouldn't feel as though he were about to cry. He hated the feeling. He could stand being shorter if only he didn't also feel so young. The house elf, who had obviously come to watch them, started to set up a table for tea. Harry was glad he didn't seem inclined to the hysterics Dobby always displayed. In fact, from the little he had seen of the house elves in the kitchen, they seemed down right reserved compared to those of Hogwarts.

“Why do you call him 'Snape'?” Neffy asked suddenly, confusion evident in her voice. Harry turned towards her, blinking slightly. He didn't really want to think about Snape at the moment. If he thought about Snape, he had to think about what he was doing right at that moment. What if he was fighting some horrible dog creature? What if the death eaters had come for him? It made him feel anxious and ill and like he was going to burst into tears at any moment. He wished he had gone with him, like the old Harry would have. The Harry who leapt into battle, defending everyone. Which in turn made him think of Sirius. Only now it was all tied up with Snape, and he kept imagining him falling through a veil, and somehow Harry knew it was his fault again, and all the sphinx would know and not want him any more, and he would be sent back to the Dursleys and shoved in the cupboard under the stairs like when he was four the first time. Suddenly, Harry found it very hard to breathe.

“Hysenos?” Neffy said, and the house elf pulled him by the elbow over to the table and sat him down, one hand stroking his hair and the other pushing a vial towards his lips. Harry accepted it without even noticing he did so, so caught up as he was in his visions of death and guilt and fear. But as soon as he drank it, his painful gasps relaxed and his eyes began to grow heavy.

“There, there, musos,” the elf crooned gently, “All will be well. Your phiter will be back soon.”

“He's right, hysenos, Sev will be all right,” Neffy agreed, sitting at his other side worriedly, “Now, wouldn't you like some tea?” Harry looked up at her, feeling sleepy and embarrassed now that he was no longer quite so worked up. He tried to pull himself together and remind himself that he was seventeen, no matter what that meant for a sphinx. Cautiously, he took a bite of a biscuit.

“What do you think I should call Snape?” he asked suddenly, after the three of them has sat in silence for a bit. The house elf also had a place at the table and Harry directed his question as much towards him as towards Neffy.

“We all call him Sev, or Severus if we call him by his name,” Neffy answered, then frowned, saying, “Well, except for Udro. I've never heard him be less than formal. It's always Professor Snape or Master Snape.”

“Master?” Harry asked, giggling slightly at the idea of calling Snape 'Master'.

“Well, he is a potions master, isn't he?” Neffy asked, but she giggled too, perhaps just a bit too giddily. Harry began to wonder what the house elf had put in the tea.

“You might call him Phiter,” the house elf said, in his high pitched warbling voice, “or Pher for short. Or perhaps you are waiting on the ceremony first.”

“What do those words mean?” Harry asked. The house elf looked slightly surprised that Harry didn't know.

“The simplest translation is 'father',” Neffy answered for the elf. Harry blinked, and found himself blushing without quite knowing why.

“Simplest indeed,” the house elf declared with a sniff, “It has naught to do with blood, though the two usually go together. It is the title of one who claims a paternal responsibility for another. There shall be a ceremony under the next new moon, just before you leave.”

“All the pride is meant to be there,” Neffy exclaimed excitedly, “And you will officially be part of our clan!” Harry nodded his head nervously. Snape had never mentioned any of this. Suppose he didn't really want to be Harry's Phiter? And did Harry want him to be even if he did? The anxious feeling in his stomach returned, and Harry thought he might want it, even if his seventeen mind didn't think he should. It didn't help that they still didn't know what was going on with the alarm. Suppose Snape was killed? Suppose he was dying right at that instant? Suddenly, Harry was quite certain that he wanted Snape to be his phiter more than anything in the world, if only he would come back.

“What is your name?” he asked the elf abruptly; besides really wanting to know, he wanted to change the subject and get his thoughts off of Snape.

“Eberik Silklinen,” the elf answered, hopping out of his chair to give a little bow. Harry nodded his head back uncertainly. The more he knew of this elf, the more he felt he was nothing like the house elves at Hogwarts. He wanted to ask if the elves here were all free and if they got pay and holidays, but he felt it might be rude to ask. He would ask Snape when they were alone.

“Do you know what the alarm was,” Harry asked. The elf gave a small nod.

“That one was to wail the approach of one with canine blood,” he answered, and both children reached for each other without meaning to.

“You mean the nubis'wi?” Neffy asked, her eyes wide with sudden terror.

“Not necessarily,” the elf Eberik answered, wringing his hands nervously again, “It could have simply been a pack of wild dogs running by our front gate.”

“If that were all, they'd be back by now!” Harry cried, and his hand moved involuntarily towards his bandaged shoulder. Wild dogs seemed quite bad enough. Eberik looked hesitant, but still he stood and strode towards the pond in the middle of the room.

“We can see, if you want,” he told them, “The water has been charmed to see out with.”

“Why didn't you say so before?” Neffy exclaimed, bounding forward eagerly, “Waiting to know what is happening has to be worse than seeing it!” Harry had a sudden memory of standing in a tent while the roar of a dragon came from without. He tried to imagine doing that same stunt now, with this body, and shuddered slightly. He walked forward slowly to stand next to Neffy and Eberik. The elf reached forward and touched a finger to the pool. A moment later the water rippled, and an image appeared on its surface.

At first, all they could see were clan members. Basta, looking quite fierce, prowled about a wall that looked mostly gold but was green and red and diamond white in places. Then the image pulled away, showing that it wasn't a wall but an enormous door set within an even larger stone wall. It was a creation of beauty with the image of a crystal tree overlaying the gold, shadowed in green and red, but no one was looking at the gate, more intent on knowing what the disturbance was. Basta, at least, appeared unharmed. Udro stood at her side, looking pale but somehow strong all the same. Helen stood next to him, looking fiercer than Basta and Udro combined. They didn't see Snape or Neffy's parents anywhere.

“There's Mum!” Neffy exclaimed suddenly, and they saw Shura prowling high up above everyone on the wall, next to one of the men. Harry felt he should recognize him, but it was harder when it was only an image. If he could only smell or feel him, he was sure he'd know his name.

“Can we look somewhere else?” Harry asked Eberik, “I want to see...to see ph...to see Sev.” The elf nodded, and the imaged dissolved, opening again on a small stone room. At its centre was a ring of wood, rather like the dining room table but much thinner. In the centre of that stood a man. But Harry wasn't really looking at him, more intent on his new family. He saw Roo at once, an intent look on his face, and Jag; much to Neffy's relief upon seeing her father unharmed. There were others, too, but Harry stopped looking once he found the man he really wanted to see. Snape, or Severus, or however he should think of him, looked unharmed, if a bit cross. He had that sneer on his face that Harry found familiar, and he was glad that it wasn't directed towards him.

“They have a prisoner,” Neffy remarked, “Do you think he's a nubis'wi? He must be, he set off all the alarms!” She clutched at Harry anxiously, making him feel nervous himself. Then he turned his head to really look at the man in the centre of the ring and his eyes widened in recognition.

“He isn't a nubis'wi, he's a werewolf!” Harry exclaimed. Neffy looked at him as though to say that was quite as bad, if not the same thing in different words, but Harry didn't care. He knew, now, that none of them were in any danger. In the centre of the ring was Remus Lupin.

It was another three hours before anyone came to get the children. For the first half hour of that time, Neffy and Harry watched the happenings in the water intently. The sphinx in the image talked back and forth, and then talked some with Remus in the centre of the ring. Not that the children could actually hear what was being said; Eberik the house elf claimed the seeing pool only did images. Very soon, all three were tired of watching the adults stand around and talk without seeming to get anywhere. Harry was a little bit worried about how Remus seemed to be imprisoned but as he looked all right, and Severus looked more annoyed than worried, he decided it would probably be okay.

Then Harry spent the next half hour explaining to Neffy and Eberik who Remus was, and most of that was convincing them that being a werewolf did not automatically make Remus an evil beast in league with their most hated of enemies. He finished by telling them about the boggart, including Severus in a dress. But talking about his third year brought up all sorts of strange feelings. His third year was when he first met Sirius. In his third year, he thought it ridiculously funny to see Snape humiliated. And thinking about school suddenly made him wonder exactly how his seventh year was going to go. He had been short for his age at thirteen, but at least he looked like he was old enough to be at Hogwarts. And even if it was going to be a perfectly regular year, Harry didn't feel ready for classes yet. He had only finished half of his homework before the entire sphinx thing happened. And where exactly was his wand?

“If I met a boggart, I'll bet it would be a nubis'wi,” Neffy said as Harry's story trailed off into a thoughtful silence.

“I would be curious to see what mine would be,” Eberik said, “Quite likely a rat. I've never liked those...they have a way of breaking into the most well laid containment spells and ruining whatever is within.” Harry shuddered slightly at his words. He hated how his emotions seemed to jump about like this. And how his thoughts didn't seem to be his own any more. Surely, the very first thing the old Harry would have looked for, upon waking up in strange surroundings, was his wand! Why had he not even thought to ask for it until that moment? Not even when the alarms first went off? Why did he accept this place so readily, without rebelling against Snape or demanding news of his friends? Did his friends even know what had happened?

“How many more days until September?” he asked suddenly. Neffy only shrugged but Eberik crossed his eyes in his effort to do the arithmetic.

“In twelve days,” he answered at last, “And the ceremony happens in nine.” Harry nodded his head and then settled down on some pillows, his expression troubled.

“I wish you didn't have to leave,” Neffy said, “You only just got here, and your shoulder isn't even all the way healed! But it will be wonderful at the ceremony, you'll see!”

An hour passed and Eberik brought out some more food but Harry didn't eat much. His mind felt too troubled. He didn't like how different he was, but he liked being a part of a family. And no matter how strange he knew it to be, he was missing Severus. Neffy seemed to understand, partly at least, because she kept saying how Sev would be returning very soon, she was sure of it. Harry wondered why they couldn't just go to him, now that they knew there wasn't any real threat, but Eberik wouldn't hear of that. Harry got the feeling that the house elf had only been humouring him when he agreed the werewolf was perfectly safe this time of the month.

In the end, Harry lay down on some pillows and watched the pool, staring down at where Severus stood glowering. It wasn't enough. He couldn't feel him, or smell him at all. And no one in the image was doing anything interesting. Within ten minutes of laying down, Harry had nodded off to sleep.

He was still sleeping when Severus stepped out of the fire place, followed by Shura and Jag. Neffy ran eagerly to her parents while Severus walked more sedately towards the sleeping boy. Harry awoke almost instantly, perhaps sensing the man's presence at last.

“Sev?” he mumbled sleepily, “Weren't you with Remus?” Severus looked slightly startled at what Harry called him, but he only said, “Come along, Harry, you have a visitor.” And he lifted the boy up and carried him towards the fireplace.

“Are you bringing him to the werewolf?” Eberik cried, sounding alarmed, and Harry began to wake up more.

“I told you, Remus is a good man,” he insisted.

“He will not be allowed to harm Harry,” Severus added, and the house elf relaxed at his word. Then Severus stepped into the fireplace and with a whoosh they were back in the bedroom.

“Get dressed, Harry,” Severus instructed, “And I have something I want you to wear. It may feel uncomfortable, but it is necessary.” And he pulled from his robes a small bracelet. Harry looked down at the pyjamas he was wearing as though noting them for the first time before heading to the closet to find one of his new robes. Severus turned around to give him privacy, but Harry went to change in the bathroom anyway. Once decent, he came out again and approached the bed where the bracelet was lying.

It was very small, so small that at first Harry didn't think it could possibly fit around his wrist. He had half forgotten how small his wrist really was. The bracelet was silver and designed to look like a coiled serpent but with the head like a lion or a dragon crossing over the tail. To put it on, as Severus showed him, one pushed the jewel of the eye while squeezing the neck. The latch would release and he could fit it over his wrist before closing it again. Once it was around his wrist, Harry felt strange, just as Severus had hinted he would.

“What is it doing?” he asked, and stumbled a bit from dizziness.

“It is locking you into your boy form,” Severus answered, “So that you won't accidentally change into a cub and be overwhelmed by those around you. When we go to Hogwarts, you will always wear that outside of our rooms.”

“Our rooms?” Harry asked, “Does that mean I'm not going back to the dorm?”

“Not to sleep,” he answered, “You may visit them, of course. You are still a Gryffindor.” The last was said with the familiar sneer, but as Harry didn't sense any true distaste directed towards him, he didn't mind. It was amazing how his new senses could change his perception of the man.

“Where is my wand?” Harry asked suddenly. It had slipped his mind yet again, but now he was determined to know about it. His ability to do magic was important. It was what made him different from really being a four-year-old, because four-year-olds weren't even allowed to have wands. But Severus merely lifted an eyebrow.

“You do not need it now,” he answered, and before Harry could protest he added, “Now, would you like to see the wolf or would you like to ask more questions?”

“Let's go,” Harry answered immediately, his eyes lighting up in anticipation. Then he paused, frowning. There was that childishly short attention span coming into play again, screwing around with his grown up thoughts. But he really did want to see Remus, so he let it go.

“Remember,” Severus said as he led the way out of the room, “You may find him different than you remember. Your sphinx blood will recognize the wolf in him, and vice versa. I will not be leaving your side during this meeting.” Harry nodded his head impatiently. “He shouldn't really be here at all,” Severus continued, “Another of Dumbledore's unwise ideas, I'm afraid. He has been sending members of the Order to check up on us, and the latests member just happened to set off about every alarm we have. But as long as he's here and we had to detain him, we thought you might as well visit. Perhaps seeing you well will satisfy the headmaster at last from his curiosity.” Then, much to Harry's annoyance, Severus insisted on carrying him. “You are not yet healed,” he explained, “Do you wish to arrive, only to fall asleep on your feet?” Harry pouted anyway, until they arrived before a door. The room beyond the door was empty but for a fireplace, and it was through the fireplace that they went after Severus gave the password.

Finally, Harry was in the same room with Remus. The werewolf was no longer confined to the ring but seemed to be free to walk about the small room and sit at a table or lie back on a couch. It was, in fact, a very nicely furnished room and might have been comfortable if it weren't for the obvious lack of windows or doors.

“Professor!” Harry cried, upon seeing the man sitting on the couch and reading. Remus looked up at once, staring in surprise at the sight of Harry sitting in Severus's arms. Harry squirmed to be set down and Severus did so, but he kept a hand on Harry's good shoulder, holding him back.

“Harry?” Remus whispered, approaching slowly. Harry stopped squirming and nodded, staring up at the man. He could now see what Severus had been talking about; something felt off about the werewolf. Not like Remus was evil so much as that he felt tainted or ill. It didn't make Harry suddenly fear the man but it made him feel anxious for him and uncertain. If Severus hadn't been there, standing right behind him with his hand on his shoulder, Harry didn't think he would have felt quite safe.

“Are you all right, Professor?” Harry asked, worried. He didn't like the wrongness that clung to him, ruining the vibes of kindness and concern.

“The wolf isn't comfortable here,” he answered, seeming to know exactly what Harry was asking, “It knows it's in a den of enemies. But I am happy to be here, and to see you. And please, I'm not your professor any more. Call me Remus.” Then he turned his attention towards the man behind Harry. “Hello, Severus. Thank you again, for allowing this.” Severus made no reply but Harry could almost hear his sneer. Once again, however, his expression of disdain did not match the feelings he projected and Harry wasn't concerned.

“Can werewolves sense like we can?” he suddenly asked.

“Not quite the same,” Severus answered, “His sense of smell is sharp, particularly near the full moon, and tells him much about people that we too sense, but werewolves are not empathic.”

“Ah, yes, I was just reading up on the empathy,” Remus said, holding up the book, “You did say he might feel frightened if he sensed the wolf?”

“I believe I said he might take an irrational dislike towards you because he would sense the wolf,” Severus answered. Harry peered more closely at the book and saw that it seemed to be a book on the sphinx.

“So you still need your glasses?” Remus asked, apparently to change the subject. It was obvious he didn't like thinking about Harry hating him. “How does that work with the change into cat form? Do you still need them, or what?” As Harry hadn't even noticed he was wearing them until Remus mentioned it, and couldn't remember when he had actually put them on, Severus answered for him.

“He internalizes them during the change,” he said, “Just as he does his clothes but a bit different, as he internalizes their corrective qualities as well, but his clothes do little to enhance his fur. If he were to change into his panther form while not wearing his glasses, he would keep his inability to see clearly. But as you can see from his obvious confusion, wearing his glasses is so natural to him that this had never been a problem.”

“How is everyone?” Harry asked, getting annoyed at how they kept talking about him over his head. “Does everyone know about me being a sphinx?”

“Well, everyone in the Order knows,” Remus answered, “Hermione has already torn the library apart trying to find information. But no one else does yet; Dumbledore is trying to keep the ministry from knowing that you have changed as long as possible. We are already working on an explanation, as we all think it would be better that they didn't know your true status. We are thinking, perhaps, a de-ageing accident to explain your youth.”

“And as potions master, it is my duty to keep you close to keep an eye on your condition while I try and cure it,” Severus added. Harry nodded, knowing he didn't want to be classified as not human by the ministry. Then Harry and Remus talked more about what was going on with the Order, and how many known Death Eaters had yet to be caught. Severus slowly stepped away from Harry, once he was sure the boy was comfortable with the werewolf, and sat down in the chair, pulling from his robes a book of lesson plans he intended to go over before the new school year.

Finally, when Harry was yawning, half asleep while his stomach growled in hunger, Severus decided the visit had gone on long enough.

“You should be released soon,” Severus informed Remus, “Phuros Rummel only needed to be certain of you. He is speaking to Dumbledore now.” Remus nodded, then went down onto his knees to say goodbye to Harry. Harry felt slightly embarrassed that the man needed to go down onto his knees to do it.

“Take care, pup,” he said, “Or should I say cub?”

“It doesn't matter,” Harry answered, and impulsively he gave him a quick hug, before leaning backwards against Severus, his face going pink. Severus picked him up once more and Remus couldn't quite hide his smile at the sight they made. Severus sneered darkly in his direction but Harry smiled back. They left through the fireplace and Remus once again returned to the book.

“You know something of occluding,” Severus said, ignoring the way Harry tensed slightly at the term, “This is not much different.” Harry thought it was greatly different. For one thing, Severus was guiding Harry gently, not invasively attacking his mind.

'Hard', Harry mindspoke rebelliously. Learning to speak was both easy and difficult. He could now project the basics of what he wanted to say at will, but it usually came out in pictures unless the idea was too abstract. And he had no control whatsoever in whom he sent his thoughts to. That was fine when they were in their room where all the walls were warded. Unless a sphinx was standing just outside the door no one in the room would be able to sense them and no one outside the room would be able to sense those within. This included speaking to one another. Rooms were a sanctuary where the sphinx could relax, the wounded could recuperate, and the young could practice their control with some privacy.

Severus had decided that Harry might gain more control if he was better able to shield his mind, a talent he needed to learn anyway if he was ever to change form around humans again. Unfortunately, shielding was a talent where the sphinx's natural curiosity worked against them. Harry didn't want to completely cut himself off from reading those around him, and until he wanted to do it he wasn't going to get anywhere. For the moment, Severus was hoping Harry's equally natural inclination to please him and his new family would be enough incentive.

“Now,” Severus continued, “just keep concentrating on the barrier like I showed you, it helps if you concentrate on your other senses like smell, so that you don’t feel like you’re cutting yourself off.” Harry did as he suggested. It was easier to learn thing when Severus was actually able to show him, in his mind, how to do it. But he didn’t have enough concentration or will to keep up a shield for long; he became too anxious when he couldn’t sense Severus. Suddenly, Harry sat up and transformed into his boy form, without quite meaning to. Severus sighed, sitting back.

“Harry,” he said, his tone admonishing, “You have to learn this in cub form.”

“Why don’t you hate me?” Harry asked instead, and Severus blinked. Harry hadn’t actually meant to ask that, but the question had been growing on his mind, especially as the similarities between their lessons and the old occlumency lessons grew stronger. Why was Snape, the evil potions master and ambiguous spy, suddenly transformed into Severus, the still sarcastic but kind and gentle sphinx? Harry was still Harry; even when the potions master had become the defense against the dark arts master in his sixth year and, no longer playing the spy, had grown much more fair, he had still hated James Potter’s son.

“I never hated you,” Severus answered at last, “I hated what you represented. And you do…did look remarkably like your father. But you don’t feel like him, inside; you feel like Lilly.”

“So it’s because I don’t remind you of my father anymore?” Harry asked, frowning slightly as he considered this.

“Does that sound better than my instincts are screaming to protect you, that your very nature and mine has changed everything?” Severus asked, “You could have been James personified through and through; you could have been the dark lord himself, and still I wouldn’t have hated you. Detested you, maybe, but not hated.”

“So you only like me because I’m a cub?” Harry asked, feeling suddenly upset. Severus shook his head.

“Hywuxkos,” he answered, a term Harry had heard from him before which basically translated into ‘foolish child’ or ‘daft cub’, “I said I would have loved you anyway. The fact that I also like you is down to you being a likeable person.”

“Oh,” Harry answered, and then, “You love me?”

“Back to shielding,” Severus answered, ignoring the question, “You must be…”

“I like you too, you know,” Harry said, “So that isn’t all instinct, right?”

“It would seem not,” Severus answered, and then insisted that they continue the lesson.

Once Harry managed to completely block off his mind for an entire five minutes, at which point the need to sense Severus became too strong, and after Severus had once again looked at Harry’s shoulder, he was set free. Neffy, this time accompanied by Basta, appeared to complete Harry’s tour of the mansion.

“Listen to Basta,” Severus instructed severely, “I know you didn’t take it easy enough the last time.” Neffy looked guilty for one second before her enthusiasm of showing off her home took over. This time she bounded ahead of them in cat form. What she lacked in sleek agility she made up for in exuberance and soon she had to double back or she would have lost them. Harry, too, was in cub form because he learned that he knew a place better if he had been there in his cat form; the senses took in more. Basta, as a woman, carried him even though he insisted he would be careful of his shoulder; he wanted to bound about with Neffy.

For this tour, they once more went to the large common room and then started down the opposite hallway, one Harry had never visited. Neffy ran right past the first few doors, though Basta paused to open them. The first was a small, empty looking room with padded walls. There were not even windows, though there was one of the ever present fireplaces.

“A practice room,” Basta explained, “For individual training. The group training rooms are up ahead, where Neffy’s run.” Still Basta paused to open each door, even the one leading to a toilet and the one to some showers. Harry was glad; it felt incomplete somehow to just pass the closed doors, even if he was told what was inside. Finally, they caught up to Neffy as she darted through a small door within the door. Now that Harry saw it, he realized he had seen something similar on most doors, he just hadn’t realized what it was. It looked like a large square decoration but when Neffy ran into it she passed through as though it wasn’t there. Basta, seeing Harry’s curiosity, set him on the ground and let him walk through it.

Once he was level with it, he found he could sense its absence and he had no more trouble walking through it than getting onto platform 9 ¾. Through the door, he saw a room similar to the smaller practice rooms, but much larger. For one thing, the ceiling went all the way up through the to the first floor; there was a small catwalk up there like a balcony that ran all about the room and with a small slide so that the person up there could easily come down. Getting back up again would doubtless be a bit more of a hassle.

The room itself was less empty, having another door leading, as Neffy soon showed him, into a large storage room. It was filled with weapons, mostly training with magically warded edges, and brooms and training wands and the like. There was a second door that led into a bathroom, one direction for women and the other for men.

“Here!” Neffy cried, transforming swiftly into girl form and tossing Harry a wand and a broom, “Let’s have a practice duel!” Harry barely became a boy in time to catch the wand and duck the broom.

“Oops,” Neffy cried, “Sorry.” And then she took off on her own broom, swooping out of the storage room and into the air. Harry followed eagerly.

“Not so fast!” Basta cried, from the middle of the room. Both children paused, certain she was going to make them come down. “No duels without the proper equipment,” she ordered, “Get a warded safety pad for his shoulder, one of the ones used for the injured.”

“All right,” Neffy answered, rolling her eyes, and they both landed so that Neffy could show Harry what Basta meant. It was a sort of harness that was apparently designed specifically to stop further injury to already injured body parts, in his case his shoulder. In the meantime, Basta got her own broom and practice wand.

“What are practice wands?” Harry asked as he looked at the one in his hand. It looked like a wand but didn’t feel quite right.

“Bits of wood that hold spells,” Basta answered him, “Not like real wands that actually channel your magic to do your demands. These would work for anyone if they knew the trigger words and movements. And they dampen the effects of harmful spells or don’t know them at all.”

“And they know when you’ve been hit and take away points!” Neffy called from above them, “And if you lose too many you’re out!”

“Do all sphinx know magic?” Harry asked, ignoring Neffy’s impatient calling.

“Sphinx are magical creatures,” Basta answered, “We have magic enough to use wizard sticks. We also have our own magic that humans, even magical humans, could never manage.”

Then Neffy, impatient for the game to begin, cast a jinx towards Basta. She blocked it easily and they both leaped into the air after Neffy. The game lasted for an intense fifteen minutes. Harry was glad to know that his smaller size hadn’t reduced his knowledge of spells, and even with hundreds of years of experience on him he still managed to hold his own. And his small size was definitely an advantage when it came to dodging spells. Unfortunately, Basta managed to blast him and Neffy both while they were concentrating on each other.

Afterwards, they took another ten minutes to relax, Basta murmuring something about Sev murdering her if Harry came back asleep. But Harry was tired of being careful of his shoulder and said he wasn’t too tired at all. So the tour continued as they came next to what Neffy declared the best rooms in the entire mansion, the game rooms.

There were tables set up for board games and other indoor games, some quite elaborate looking except that Harry didn’t really recognize them. There was even a two lane bowling alley. There were also numerous arcade types of games, except that Harry didn’t think those worked around magic. Basta informed him that they worked by magic. And it seemed that magic could make some more elaborate games, especially when it came to virtual reality. There was a virtual quiditch game, and virtual battle games and even a virtual racing game. There were also televisions set up that could get any channel that one liked and that also, if you wanted, instantly translated any language into any other language.

“I wish we had things like this at Hogwarts,” Harry said, “It always seemed so weird that you could do so much with magic, but that Muggles were way ahead of us in some ways.”

“Wizards are afraid of change,” Basta explained, “The sphinx are used to it. We are able to see great many changes within our lifetime. And the wizards are terrified of Muggles really; if they wanted to they could find ways to duplicate electronics with magic, even improve upon it, but they won’t have anything to do with Muggle contraptions.”

“I know a wizard who loves everything Muggle,” Harry said, and suddenly, he felt strangely homesick. It was especially odd because, for the first time in his life, he was home. Then Neffy managed to distract him by challenging him to an odd board game that he didn’t recognize but that she said had been around for centuries. In her enthusiasm to show him the game, which she called senetos and which looked fairly simple but turned out to be really complicated, he forgot all about any sad feelings. They were only partly into the game, and Harry was completely confused, when Basta suggested that they finish the game some other time so that they could complete the tour.

The final room in the hallway, at its very end just as the dining hall was at the very end of the other hallway, was the library. Like the group training room it took up both floors, but it also had both floors connected by a ramp. It was filled with books. It was also even larger than Harry thought possible; he had to ask Neffy if there was some magic about it. She said she thought there must be, but no one had ever said. There was probably something of magic woven into every stone of the mansion. Basta took them away from the library much sooner than Neffy wanted and into the upper wing. There Neffy cheered up again. She could show him her room.

The entire first floor of that wing was taken up by family rooms or communal dining and living areas. Neffy led Harry and Basta straight past the first few doors, not wanting to be detained by other enthusiastic sphinx wanting to show Harry around their rooms or get to know him better. Instead, she insisted they go straight for a door towards the middle of the large, airy hallway which led into he own quarters.

The door opened upon a small room with places for shoes and cloaks this, in turn, opened on either side into a dining area and sitting room. It was all very cozy and very normal except for the miniature tree with sprawling limbs in the place of a couch and the long stretch of carpet that was obviously designed to exercise claws on. The dining room was also made with giant cats in mind and its broad chairs could easily be combined and converted to form backless benches. The table, too, was made to be lowered at will.

Harry was allowed a quick glimpse of this before Neffy dragged him into a bedroom that had to be hers. It contained a bed, of course, round and firm and low to the ground so that it could easily suit her in her girl or cat form. There was also, above the bed, a ledge and yet another above that which could be climbed up, ending in a wooden ledge hidden by plants sprouting from the wood and walls and ceiling. These were not fake as Harry could sense; they had to have been grown there by magic.

There was also a well used scratching post and a few toys that were likely meant to be chewed. There were just as many toys a human girl would love, such as the shelf devoted to dolls and stuffed animals. Harry inspected the room dutifully, ignoring Neffy’s muttering about the non-existent mess, and then made the appropriate noises of compliment. But his own enthusiasm had waned. He thought about the room where he and Severus stayed and its utter lack of personality or non-utilitarian items, and unexpectedly he got a lump in his throat. He wanted this room. Or rather, not this room, but everything this room represented. He wanted a bedroom that wasn’t really a cupboard, or someone else’s storage room, or a dorm. He wanted what Neffy had. And suddenly he was stumbling out of the room, back to the hallway, where he gasped in air while leaning his chin against the hallway window ledge. He was too small to gaze out properly, though from Basta’s perch he had seen the garden below. All he could really see was the sky and the other wing across the way. He knew the room where he and Severus stayed was over there, somewhere. He found it suddenly very hard to keep from crying.

“What has happened now, hywuxkos,” a gentle voice said from behind him, and Harry spun around to find Severus. How the man had managed to come upon him without Harry sensing, the boy didn’t know, but he was very welcome now. He reached form him, transforming back into a panther in the middle, and the man picked him up. From here, if he had wanted to, he could have easily looked down into the gardens or even to the park beyond the mansion. But he didn’t want to. He hid his head in Severus’s robe.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Neffy cried from the doorway to her family’s rooms, “I was only showing him my room!”

“Relax, musei,” Severus answered, “Harry is only feeling a little homesick.”

“But I thought he hated his old home,” Neffy blurted out, confused.

“It is not that home he misses,” Severus answered, and though Neffy still looked confused he didn’t explain further. Instead, he walked away, holding Harry securely. Neffy made as though to follow, but Basta stopped her.

The next few days were filled with lessons, intermixed with visiting other clan members. It wasn’t long before Harry had seen the personal rooms of just about every sphinx except Severus. He began to wonder if the man didn’t have his own rooms, but was afraid to ask. He didn’t want anyone to think he cared that much about it.

The lessons themselves became more urgent as the date approached when Harry would be meeting the rest of the pride. He wasn’t entirely sure how this was to be done. Severus said there was going to be a mindmeet, but he didn’t seem to know how to explain what that was. As Harry understood it, he would talk to everyone in his mind even though they would be a great distance away. That was why it was important that he grow better at mindspeech, though Severus said he’d be able to help him.

“Concentrate, Harry, let me guide you,” he said for the ten billionth time, and Harry did try. Very, very slowly, he was getting the concept of projecting. He still hadn’t perfected it, however, and Severus indicated it would probably take months for it to begin to feel natural. Harry suspected it would be more like years. Severus still hadn’t broached the topic of exactly what would happen once Harry was introduced to the Pride. Harry didn’t know what made him more nervous; the mindmeet or his impending seventh year at Hogwarts. His days were also being spent on finishing his homework, once Severus reminded him of it. At least he felt more prepared than ever before with a professor for reference and a huge library for research. He knew Hermione would be jealous. He had finally gotten a few letters from his friends, but had felt awkward in writing them back. He had finally said that he was well, and that this was all confusing, and to tell Ron to stop calling Severus a slimy git. And still time passed and his nerves grew. And then it was the day of the mindmeet.

The air in the mansion grew tense in anticipation and hunger; everyone had to fast for at least twelve hours before the meet. Roo came by their room at least three times to check on them before Severus decided if Harry was going to pace, he could do it out in the open and took him to the common room. Harry wasn’t the only one pacing, and Severus himself let off bursts of static nerves despite his outward appearance of calm. Only the night before had he finally talked to Harry about being his phiter and explained what the term meant.

“I am your legal guardian,” he added, very suddenly after the explanation, “We needed to sign someone as your guardian after you were removed from your relatives.” And he was so uptight about Harry’s reaction to all this that he didn’t even sneer when he spoke of Harry’s former guardians.

“And now you’ll be my phiter, not just my guardian?” Harry asked, unexpectedly smiling with excitement. His own nerves had been all over the place all week, between sorrow and fear and happiness. He felt so happy and excited just then that his eyes began to leak a bit. Severus looked a bit startled before allowing a small smile of his own.

“I will be,” he answered, “And all the pride will be your family, and the mansion will be your home. We will come back during the holidays and you can stay for as long as you like after you graduate.”

“What will happen then?” Harry asked.

“Since you are still a child, according to your sphinx blood, you will continue schooling here with me. But there is time enough to figure that all out.” Then he laughed at Harry’s frown in response to the idea of more schooling. Harry was getting tired of school.

“But if I’m like a four year old, aren’t I too young for school?” he asked hopefully.

“Ah, but I said you were small for your age,” Severus pointed out, and Harry’s frown deepened. Then he shrugged. He was beginning to get used to the idea of living his childhood over again, though he was still far from resigned.

That was the day before. Now he was all child; all terrified, excited, nervous, impatient child. Soon, the mindmeet would begin.

Phuros Rummel led the procession into the meeting hall. It was, in fact, one of the large meeting halls that Neffy had shown Harry weeks before, during their first day of exploration. The room looked expansive and empty but for cushions which had been placed about in a circle and for a pile of logs in the middle. Roo walked in upright form, wearing brightly colored robes and a pointed hat. Severus followed, wearing his usual black robe. He carried Harry, who was dressed in what greatly resembled a white dress. Harry preferred to think of it as a robe, even though it really wasn’t. According to Severus, it was traditional, as was the white hat which flopped over his head in the manner of a bonnet.

After Severus and Harry, the rest of the clan followed in silence. They, like Severus, were mostly wearing black robes though Udro had on a fine business suit and a few of the women were wearing fancy dresses. The procession walked around the cushions until the last person entered. They spaced themselves to form a complete circle. The door closed on its own. Roo gave a slight nod and everyone sat down upon the cushions, Harry in Severus’s lap. Roo gave a mighty clap of his hands, and the entire room plunged into darkness. Harry gasped, grasping blindly backwards at Severus’s robes. A flame sparked at the center of the circle and soon the logs were burning fiercely, casting eerie shadows. The smell of wood burning filled the room and something else, something spicy and sweet that made Harry feel wide awake and sleepy at the same time.

“The circle!” Roo cried, his voice powerful and booming, and two sphinx immediately arose, one carrying incense and the other a large ceremonial pitcher. From the pitcher a dark, thick liquid was poured which behaved similar to wax and turned solid shortly after it hit the ground. The two walked in a slow circle around everyone, until a complete circle was made. Harry could feel the magic in the act, as though a wall was being built around them, keeping them inside. This was ancient magic, as Severus had explained it; they used it sometimes at Hogwarts as well though they called it a different name. It was basically a way to concentrate power and keep it from escaping before they directed it as they willed. It had sounded almost normal and boring when hearing about it in the classroom atmosphere of their room, but now that he felt it in practice, there in the darkened room with fire and incense and magic, there it felt ancient and strange as though he had stepped back into an older world of bloody sacrifices to vengeful gods.

But there was no blood, not really, and Roo did not call upon old gods. Nor did he call upon newer gods. If any religious deity was called to witness their circle, it was done silently as went with the sphinx tradition. They as a people had seen too many religions at odds with one another to enforce any sort of group worship. So they sat in silence, some praying some meditating, and the power filling the circle slowly grew. It wasn’t exactly like wizard magic; there were no wands involved. The magic came from within them, and pulled out from the fire and the earth and air. To Harry, it felt natural yet odd, as though a growing pressure was pushing at his chest.

“We call!” Roo cried suddenly, raising his arms as though to throw the energy out into the air.

“We call!” the sphinx repeated, “We call, we call!” And as one they melted down into panther form. Harry was glad to be able to melt his horrid white robe that was not a dress and hat that certainly was not a bonnet into his skin. For once, he felt almost glad to be naked. And at this point, the entire experience became very strange.

With Severus to guide him, and the smoke of the fire helping somehow to ease the process, the entire circle felt like it was moving to somewhere else. They didn’t move, not with their bodies, but in the same way that they were able to speak with their minds they reached out, only farther and somehow more real than ever before. Harry had never felt anything quite like it. And their circle was joined by other circles.

They joined together all of them, until they were a great sphere. Harry could see them, just as though these stranger sphinx were in the same room, and yet he didn’t really. Strangest of all, he saw them as panthers and as upright people, both at the same time. He saw them at their essence and suspected they saw him in much the same way. They were meeting each other’s minds. Then one prominent mind came forward, her magical signature sharp and powerful. Harry knew at once that she must be Alphurei Aelurus, the leader of the panther pride.

“Phuros Rummel, clan leader to Merlin’s Isle,” she said, her mind’s voice vibrating through the sphere, “You call this Mindmeet?”

“I do,” Roo answered, “I call to present a new cub!” This announcement was met with a soft wave of interest about the sphere; apparently not everyone had yet heard the news though most remained silent and unsurprised.

“Who presents this cub?” she demanded. Severus came forward slightly then, calling attention to himself and to Harry.

“I speak as his phiter,” Severus announced clearly to all. Harry tried hard not to hide within Severus’s cloak as everyone turned to look. It seemed that here, in their mind, Harry was once again robed in white and Severus in black. At the same time he felt furry and naked. It was not exactly pleasant. The woman sphinx’s presence loomed closer to them, until she felt to be directly before them. She spared Harry a gentle caress of greeting before addressing Severus once more.

“Will you care for him, guide him to our ways and protect him from harm?” she asked.

“I will,” Severus answered. She turned towards Roo.

“Will you accept him into your clan, to care for him, guide him to our ways, and protect him from harm?” she asked.

“I will,” Roo answered. She turned outwards, facing everyone.

“Do you witness this cub and hear their oath?”

“We do!” all answered in one great roar. Harry squirmed backwards against Severus’s chest.

“The oath is witnessed and accepted,” she announced, “Then let the cub’s name be known and he will be our senos for all his days. Phiter, present your cub!”

“I present Harry James Potter,” Severus answered, and Harry felt himself lifted to the center of everyone’s attention.

“Harry James Potter,” the woman leader said, and once more her essence approached him, brushing against him gently, “I give you the true name Maahes of the panther clan of Merlin’s Isle under the leadership of Phuros Rummel. Welcome Senos Maahes.”

And Harry could feel the change, the acceptance into the pride. It was a simple tradition and ceremony, true, but the words held the strength of magic and the connection forged within their minds meant that they could feel each other, even greater than their senses usually allowed. The sphere was one entity, of which Harry was a part. Not that they literally became one; Harry was still in his own mind and he could, with Severus’s help, keep from broadcasting his every thought to everyone. But he could also feel them all, their very essence, as they touched him. And each sphinx, from his own clan and every other clan, took the time to greet him. Much as his first meeting of the clan, they rubbed minds together so as to recognize one another. Then, slowly, they withdrew. There was no formal ending to the ceremony. Sphinx after sphinx fell away until Harry opened his eyes, blinked, and found himself still sitting on the cushion before Severus in a dark room. The fire was almost burned out.

“Open the circle,” Roo ordered, and the same two sphinx from before circled again, this time in the opposite direction from before, using specialized brooms to brush away the hardened liquid. It had turned to dust at some point and swept away easily. After that the lights were brought back on, the fire extinguished completely, and the party began.

There was food and dancing and, to Harry’s unexpected delight, gifts. Everyone in the clan had brought him something and according to Severus he could expect more gifts to be sent from other clans.

“And this party is just our own pride,” Neffy said happily, bouncing in time to the music being blasted seemingly from nowhere, “Just think about the winter festival when we all gather for real, not just a mindmeet! You can meet the other cubs too, then.” Harry nodded in agreement, though he was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. It wasn’t just the ceremony or the celebration or being the center of everyone’s attention. It was being a sphinx at all. It was being surrounded by a new culture, a culture that he was meant to take on as his own along with his new family. He wanted the family of course, he had wanted this with all his heart, but he couldn’t stop the strange feelings from creeping in. He felt almost like an imposter, a human wizard boy who someone tricked everyone into thinking he was one of them.

“It does take getting used to, doesn’t it?” Severus asked in a low tone, “At my own ceremony I kept waiting for someone to say it was all a mistake, and a half-breed like me couldn’t possibly be counted among them.” Harry leaned his head back, feeling suddenly glad that it was Severus there. He knew that he would understand. Then Neffy bounded up to him again, dragging Harry away to dance. Most surprising was when Basta urged Severus onto the dance floor; the sight of Severus dancing was one Harry never thought he’d see.

The party went on, until Harry was sitting, blinking, next to his pile of gifts and barely keeping from falling over. Then Severus lifted him and carried him from the room, down the hall, and up the ramp. Even half asleep, Harry could tell that they were going the wrong way. They were, in fact, in the opposite wing from the room where they’d been sleeping.

“I think it’s time,” Severus said, “to say ‘Welcome Home’.” And he opened one of the few doors that hadn’t been on the tour. Harry lifted his head, staring about the new room with wide eyes. It was a family room, similar to the ones Neffy had shown him for her own family. There was a dining space to the right and a living room to the left. Harry got only a short glimpse of the rooms before he was being carried into yet another room, this one a bedroom.

Like Neffy’s room it had a round bed, though a much smaller one. It also had a set of ledges that climbed up towards the ceiling as well as an assortment of growing plants. There was also a desk and a bookshelf, and on the bookshelf Harry saw a row of very familiar schoolbooks. And within a closet, which had its door open to show a low hung row of very small looking robes, there was a somewhat battered looking chest. The chest and the books were his own. Severus set him down upon the bed and stood back, letting Harry walk about the room. Despite being practically dead on his feet, Harry made a full circuit, taking in everything, before turning back towards Severus again.

“This is mine?” he asked, his voice uncertain as though he half expected Severus to take it all away and say it was really for some other little boy.

“This is your room,” Severus answered, “These are my quarters. Our quarters now. This is where I usually stay when I’m at the mansion.”

“Why didn’t we stay here then, before?” Harry asked, “Do you have to go through the ceremony first or something?”

“No,” Severus answered, “At first it was because we needed the warded rooms to look after you. You were hurt. And then, I wanted to finish getting your room ready. We only finished it a couple of days ago.” Harry stared at him and about at the room, still not quite believing everything that had happened.

“Go to sleep, Harry,” Severus whispered, guiding him towards the bed. Rather than having to bother with changing, Harry sunk down into his panther form, curling up in the soft blanket. He only barely noted that Severus was tucking it more securely around him before he was asleep.

When Harry awoke the next day, it was to an unfamiliar room that felt like home. It was the strangest sensation in the world; he could feel magic running through the walls that connected in concert to him and Severus. He could feel Severus nearby though he wasn't in the room, and there was none of the panic that usually threatened when the man was out of sight. Harry knew he was there.

Now that he was more properly awake, Harry began to explore his new room. He crept about in cat form, climbing up the wooden ledges to the top, hidden alcove. Then he climbed down again, wandering about into every corner, even climbing into his closet. Then he changed back into a boy and grimaced as he realized he was still wearing his ceremonial clothes. He changed out of them quickly, and then looked around his room with human eyes. Finally, he went to see the rest of his home, dropping back into panther form to better get a feel for the rooms.

He came to the sitting room first, taking in the usual couches and the tree branches that seemed to grow from the ground. There were also bookshelves filled with books and ornate wooden boxes and a few Muggle and wizard games. Unexpectedly, there was also a piano against one wall as well as a large chest with musical notes carved into it serving as a piano bench. There was a fireplace as well, similar to the ones found in most any room, except that it had pictures on the mantle. Harry had to change into a boy to see what the pictures were of, and even then he had to stand on a chair.

There were only three pictures, all of them moving in the manner of wizard photos. One was of a very young boy with black hair, smiling next to a woman who he supposed was his mother. Harry assumed the boy was Severus. Then there was a picture of Severus, Roo, Basta, and Neffy. Severus was dressed up in a similar ceremonial white gown as Harry had been wearing the night before, but on him it looked less feminine somehow and more ceremonial, and his white cap really was more like a cap than a bonnet. It seemed he still didn't like the robes and he attempted to glare dourly at the camera but didn't quite pull it off. He kept quirking his lips when Neffy or Basta did something silly. And he smiled outright when Roo put a welcoming hand on his shoulder. Then he dropped down into panther form when Neffy started to wrestle with him playfully. The third picture was completely unexpected, and undoubtedly newly added. It featured Jame, Lily, Sirius and Remus surrounding a beaming baby Harry. Pettigrew was not in the photo.

Staring at the picture of his lost family, knowing how much Severus despised his father and Sirius, how he still seemed to bear a grudge against Professor Lupin, it made Harry feel very odd to know he had chosen this picture to put over the fireplace. His seventeen year old memories crashed into his five year old emotions and his eyes started to tear up. He jumped off the chair quickly, not wanting to start bawling in the middle of the room, and stared at a particularly ugly painting over the piano of a scowling dark haired man until the feeling went away.

Then he wandered into the dining room which seemed to double as a very simple kitchen. There was no oven or refrigerator that Harry could find, but there was a tiny stone fireplace too high up for Harry to easily reach over which an iron kettle was hung. Next to that was a large basin. Over the basin was a window, which was odd because Harry was quite certain that particular wall should not have looked outside. He wasn't tall enough to see anything out of it except for sky. Opening the few cabinet doors that he could reach, Harry found one that was charmed cold and contained a pitcher of milk among other food items. Another cabinet contained food items that didn't need to stay cold and yet another held a stack of large, solid looking saucers. He supposed that these were used more for their cat aspects than their human ones.

As he inspected the room, Harry suddenly realized that he was starving. He wondered where Severus was, and if he would want Harry to cook for them or if the house elves were still meant to send up trays of food like they had in the other room. The kitchen fireplace looked big enough to fit trays, even if it wouldn't fit a person. Undecided, he decided the best option would be to find his phiter and ask him.

He approached the final two doors in the suite cautiously. He wanted to bound into Severus's rooms and at the same time he was terrified to. He didn't know where things stood between them anymore. He was his professor and he was his phiter. Harry had been, for all intents and purposes, adopted by the man last night. He had a real live family who didn't hate him or leave him, who wasn't dead. And he felt terrified and ecstatic and shy. So he walked quietly, opening the first door only a crack until he saw that it was the bathroom. That left the final room. He knocked quietly before dropping down into panther form. When no sounds came from within the room, he put a paw against the false part of the door that was meant to let them through in their panther bodies. It allowed him to pass, so finally he stuck his head into the room.

It was dark, the only window in the room covered by a heavy curtain that let in the minimum of morning light. But darkness was a refuge to his cat mind and he walked further into the shadows, reaching out with his other senses to inspect the bedroom while his eyes adjusted. The room was similar to his own except that it was larger and made with an adult in mind. The bed was a real four post bed, such as a human would favor, but the posts were thicker and held up a canopy of branches designed as a second, panther style bed. The way it was designed made it near impossible for a cub to reach the perch, though a grown panther would have no trouble, but there was also a ladder that was so narrow and the rungs so close that a grown man would have had difficulty with it. It was the perfect size for Harry to climb. Even for his own bed, Severus was providing a way for Harry to reach him if he needed to.

The presence of the ladder emboldened Harry, and he used it to climb up onto the high bed where Severus in human form was snuggled under a large blue quilt. Harry had to change into a boy to use the ladder, but once on the bed he changed back into a cub. He padded over and stared intently towards the man, willing him to wake up. He didn't know what weird instinct was effecting him now, but he had the sudden urge to pounce. He crouched down low, ears lowering as he crept forward on his belly. His muscles tensed to spring.

“Don't even think about it,” the sleeping man murmured without opening his eyes, just as he was about to make his move. The pounce turned into a leap straight up in the air from surprise and pent up energy. Harry fell back down into boy form.

“Are you awake now, Sev?” Harry asked, “Are we going to eat breakfast? I could cook, but I don't know if I can reach everything, or do we call a house elf, though Hermione wouldn't like that. That reminds me, are they free here or just different or what? And do I call you Sev or Phiter or what? What do you call me? Alphurei Aelurus called me Maahes, didn't she, but everyone still says Harry, or they did at the party.” Severus cracked an eye open.

“Oh Merlin, you've turned into Neffy, haven't you?” he mumbled and looked like he was about to go back to sleep.

“Sorry,” Harry said, “You can sleep. I'll just go and make breakfast, then.” His shyness had suddenly returned and he didn't want to make Severus mad on his very first day as being his...as Severus being his phiter. He made it out the door and had just gotten the hang of adjusting the fire to suit his needs (there was a nob on the side which seemed to work rather like an oven burner's knob) when Severus suddenly burst into the room, snatching him off his stool and away from the fire.

“Hywuxkos,” he growled, ignoring Harry's yip of surprise. He was set down in a chair farthest from the kitchen counter. Then Severus turned back towards the fire and pulled out a frying pan and some eggs and bread. Within ten minutes they both had a plate of eggs and toast. Harry also had some milk while Severus had coffee. The preparation was silent, even when Severus had to adjust Harry's chair so that he could reach the table. Harry said 'thank you' when he received his plate, and then they were quiet again while they ate. After they finished, Severus waved his wand and sent the dishes into the basin before turning to face Harry with a serious face. Harry began to squirm.

“Harry...” he began, then he stood and helped him out of his chair, saying, “Why don't we go sit in the living room.” Harry nodded and followed him to a couch. He sat down at the opposite end from Severus, sinking back as though trying to make himself even smaller. The other man stared at him for a long moment, a slight frown marring his features. Suddenly, he leaned over and scooped Harry up, pulling him onto his lap. The fear and anxiety that Harry didn't even realize he was feeling melted away, though he couldn't help but thinking he was getting tired of being tossed around. He might be small, but he was still seventeen.

“Feeling out of sorts today?” Severus asked. Harry nodded, leaning against his chest. “It's hard to take in, all these changes,” Severus continued, “It was hard for me and I got to remain a grown man when I joined them.” Harry nodded again. “Maybe if I explain things, what is expected of you and the rules for this place, then will you feel better?” Swallowing, Harry found himself twisting his head up in an attempt to look at Severus's face.

“What do I call you?” Harry asked.

“That's up to you,” Severus answered, “If you're uncomfortable with phiter, you may continue calling me Severus. You can even...if you wanted to...call me dad. I am your guardian.”

“But you don't mind being Phiter?” Harry asked. It was too weird to call him dad, but phiter...the word was alien enough that he didn't feel like he was betraying his own father. And the house elf Eberik had said it didn't mean father exactly anyway.

“Or Pher for short,” Severus agreed.

“Pher...” Harry whispered, and then, “What am I called? If you're my phiter, what am I to you?”

“Musoi,” Severus answered, “It translates basically as 'my child'. If someone other than me said it, you would be musof, his child.”

“And what about what Alphurei Aelurus said my name was, Maahes?” Harry asked, “Does that mean I'm not Harry Potter anymore?”

“That is what is known as a ceremonial name, or a secret name. Everyone will still call you Harry Potter. Now, I believe we need a few rules in place. Beginning with, you are not to go near the kitchen fire.” Harry frowned. “I know you are seventeen years old,” Severus continued, “But your body is that of a sphinx not a human, and that means you are still a very young child. I would not let a five year old human near a fire and I will not let you.”

“My aunt let me cook when I was really was five,” Harry mumbled dejectedly. He didn't want to be thought of as a small child. He wanted to be a seventeen year old who happened to be extremely short. Severus frowned at that comment and even in his boy form Harry felt the jolt of anger radiating off the man before he managed to contain it. It was followed by gentler emotions directed almost apologetically towards Harry.

“Be that as it may,” Severus answered stoically, “You should not be cooking without supervision, and not over the fire. I will give you other chores to handle, such as setting the table.” Harry nodded. Despite the growing resentment of his limitations, it felt oddly nice having someone there saying he wasn't allowed to do what, at Privet Drive, had often led to cuts and burns. And he did have to admit that his younger body was clumsier than his adult body had been. “On the note of things you are not allowed to do,” Severus continued, “I do not want you wandering around alone. This goes for Hogwarts as well. You will be with me, another trusted professor, or with your friends. Disobeying these rules will result in punishment.” Harry nodded his head nervously, both at the mention of punishments and at the mention of Hogwarts. He still wasn't sure how he felt about returning to school, especially so soon.

“Punishments will include time outs, extra chores, and being grounded,” Severus hastened to say, “I will not hurt you. And speaking of Hogwarts, we will be going there tomorrow. The students will be arriving the following day.”

“Won't I be riding on the train?” Harry asked, “What about my friends; I'll still get to sit with them, right?”

“You will see them when they arrive,” Severus answered, “I will speak with them after dinner to ensure they understand...what has happened.” Harry got the feeling Severus had been about to say something very different and began to feel angry, but it swiftly changed to anxious fear. How were his friends going to react when they saw him? And how would the rest of the school react? Not only was he now a child, a very young child, but he was living, willingly no less, with Professor Severus Snape.

Everyone was very sorry to see Harry leave, especially Neffy. She made him promise a hundred times that he would write and that he would be visiting during the holidays and maybe even the occasional weekend. The last plea was as much aimed towards Severus as Harry. But at long last, his trunk was packed (Severus let him do it himself but under his supervision), his bracelet to trap him in boy form was on his wrist, and they were leaving the sphinx manor house. It was, in fact, the first time since he arrived that Harry would see its outer wall. Severus lifted him into his arms, their shrunk luggage already in their pockets, and they turned to wave to the clan. Then they vanished.

Harry had learned, when he was still a normal human teenager, how to apparate the year before. Severus had yet to let him try it in sphinx form, and he didn't let him this time either. There were reasons students didn't learn until they were older. In fact, Harry was so nervous about leaving home that it didn't even occur to him to ask to try it alone, and the next moment they were somewhere on the road between Hogsmead and the castle. It was not long before they came to Hogwarts itself, and it seemed even less time before they were walking up the moving stairs to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore, Remus, and Moody were waiting. Harry shrank back into Severus's arms, giving a shy wave in their general direction despite his apparent attempt to hide inside his phiter's cloak.

“Harry, Severus,” Dumbledore said, smiling gently. Remus smiled as well, though he looked a bit pale and Harry could sense the wolf stronger than before. Moody looked as suspicious and accusing as ever, as though he thought Severus might be responsible for the entire situation. He made Harry nervous, the way the man's energy was coiled to strike at any moment. Luckily, being in boy form muted the sensations enough that he didn't feel overwhelmed like he had the last time when he had seen Dumbledore. “The whole order wanted to be here to see you, of course, but I thought you would be more comfortable with just the three of us.”

“Right,” Severus agreed, giving a dark glare in Moody's direction and a disdainful expression towards the werewolf. He moved as though to set Harry down but Harry clung to him tighter and he stopped.

“Harry,” Remus said, radiating concern, “None of us are going to hurt you.”

“I am so sorry for the last time I attempted to come to you,” Dumbledore said in a caring, grandfatherly manner, “I didn't understand, then, but I do now.” The man was sincere, Harry could sense that, but he didn't relinquish his hold of Severus. He didn't know why he suddenly felt so clingy and babyish, and he hated the feeling but he just couldn't let go. Not yet.

“It isn't you,” Severus explained, his tone sounding unconcerned with the entire situation, “He doesn't know this place yet.” The three looked rather taken aback by his careless attitude, but Harry could feel waves of calm and peace wrapping around him and slowly began to uncoil. “Now,” Severus continued, “What is it that needs to be taken care of before we go to our quarters?”

“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore said, “You have been following the news, I assume?”

“If you mean the ridiculous speculation on the whereabouts of our savior, then yes,” Severus answered. Harry looked up, startled. No one had mentioned him making the paper recently, though he shouldn't have been so surprised. His name had generally been mentioned, in some form or other, for years now.

“No one knows you have guardianship, yet,” Remus said, “Of course, that will soon change. We have the story ready, about a potions accident being the reason for his sudden youth, but we should add the illusion before the students arrive.”

“He looks a right pixie,” Moody remarked, his magical eye seeing right past Severus's protective arms, “Why don't you look like that, Snape?” He sounded suspicious. Harry squirmed further into Severus's arms. Severus didn't deign to give him an answer.

“Is that all there is to do here?” he demanded of Dumbledore instead, “Because we really should start to get settled in before the other students are running about the place. We do have an entire castle to cover.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore answered, “Though there is one thing. Poppy has requested that she do a full check up. She has, of course, been reading the book that you loaned her.” Severus's glare was scathing, but he nodded his head curtly. “And of course, there is the matter of the final paperwork, concerning the special circumstances of your ward. Alaster?” Begrudgingly, Moody handed over two rolls of parchment and a quill. Severus shifted awkwardly so that he could hold Harry with one arm and look over the documents with the other. He signed without a word and handed them back again.

“There now, that's all settled,” Dumbledore said, smiling happily at everyone as Moody left by floo and he offered them all tea. Severus declined, and Harry, though no longer hiding, didn't leave his arms. Finally they left, heading for the dungeons.

Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting when they reached the rooms, rooms hidden behind a perfectly ordinary looking door which unlocked with an actual key. He had some hazy notion of dark, cold stone, the sort of place he used to imagine Severus living in before he really got to know the man, but at the same time he had some idea of the rooms in the sphinx mansion that they had left behind. The sitting room that the door opened onto was a mixture of both. It was the same stone build of the dungeons with large tapestries on the wall whose predominant colors seemed to be green and silver, but the room was not dark at all. In fact, it had large windows in between the tapestries, never mind that Harry knew they were underground, and these let in a lot of light. The furniture in the room was all made for humans, but it was otherwise very similar to the sitting room in the mansion, including a piano. There was also a large fireplace but this one had no family pictures over the mantel, only a large portrait of a wooded scene. Altogether, it was a pleasant room, if a bit Slytherin for Harry’s taste.

Once in the room, Severus set Harry down and for the first time the boy let him. He didn’t feel quite so clingy now that they were alone. In fact, he felt a bit embarrassed for how he had been acting and he purposefully moved away, intent on his exploration.

“You can take the bracelet off now,” Severus advised him, “You’ll get a better feel of the rooms in your panther form.” Harry did as he suggested, and then went to one of the two doors leading out of the sitting room. One led through a large, open doorway into a dining area of similar design to the one they just left, except that the table was obviously not meant to be adjusted to accommodate panthers, and it was slightly smaller. The other doorway led into a hall with four doors. Harry was pleased to discover that they all were adjusted with cat doors, except for one. Harry changed into a boy to open it and found out it was a closet. The door across from it led to a toilet and bath. The final two doors led into their bedrooms, and the hall ended in a giant painting of a serpent entwined in a tree, which the artist somehow managed to make look majestic rather than creepy.

Severus walked up behind Harry as he found his bedroom. It looked like a miniature rendition of the Griffyndor dormroom, complete with tower view windows and a four post bed that was every bit as large as the ones back in the tower. Harry, having changed once more into a boy, found that it would be a daunting task just to get into bed now that his body was so small.

“The size is adjustable,” Severus remarked from behind him, “Touch it and you’ll see.” Harry did, and immediately the massive bed lowered itself until the bottom of the mattress was only an inch off the floor. Harry climbed up onto it and the bed raised itself again. He grinned at the sudden rush. Then he watched as Severus pulled out his trunk and resized it for him.

“Can I use magic now?” Harry asked, “You said I’d get my wand back. Can I go flying? Am I even allowed to do magic or do I have to wait for tomorrow? And, will…will I always be that shy around other people?” He felt his face turning red as he said the last bit. Severus considered him for a moment with a raised eyebrow and Harry felt himself growing redder. He supposed he was beginning to sound a bit like Neffy with all his questions, and he decided he would stop. Just because he was small didn’t mean he had to act like it. But he did want his questions answered, all the same.

“You will get your wand this evening and we will discuss your schooling then,” Severus said at last, “And as for flying, we did not go to all the trouble of adjusting your firebolt to your new circumstances just so you could sit on the ground, but you will not fly unsupervised and we are not going flying just now.” Harry nodded, feeling suddenly a bit silly. The firebolt had been one of the gifts at the ceremony but he had forgotten about it. Severus continued talking. “As for how you react to people…it is not…unexpected…that you have some difficulty in the beginning. You will find it easier when you are not in an unfamiliar environment, so before tomorrow we will go over as much of the castle and its grounds as possible until it is familiar. There is no need to be embarrassed.”

“So tomorrow, when all the students come…” Harry said, still nervous. It was bad enough knowing how they would react to him living with the professor. He didn’t want to think about how he would look if he was clinging to the man.

“If you sit next to me during the sorting, you should become used to the crowd by the time dinner is served and can go sit with your friends. If you are still uncomfortable, stay next to me and we’ll invite them over after dinner. I will want to talk with them in any case.” Harry nodded his head, not really reassured. If he had such a shy reaction to Dumbledore and Remus of all people, how would he react when Malfoy and the other Slytherins were present? Though, to be fair, Moody had made him more nervous than the other two.

Then Severus showed Harry that when he touched the bed post the bed would lower again, and the two of them went, in panther form, into the final bedroom. This room also had a large four post bed, though with a deep green covering and a more serpentine design. It didn’t lower at Harry’s touch, but there was a small ladder that rose to his touch placed discretely on the far side where it was unlikely to be noticed. The room also had a skylight and large windows that opened upon a view underwater. Harry guessed that they were seeing the lake, though it couldn’t be very deep down because there was still plenty of light. Harry watched a school of fish swim by with fascination, but Severus scowled at the scene and reached over to tap a stone at the edge of the window. The scene changed immediately to one looking down over the lake, and a cool breeze fluttered the green curtains.

“Can I do that?” Harry asked, “Do they all change?”

“Explore the room, Harry,” Severus said without answering, “And I will ask you that you stay out of this room in the future unless I’m in here to invite you in. You may, of course, always come to me in an emergency.” Harry scowled, but did as Severus suggested, prowling about the room in his panther form. Aside from the bed there was also a large desk, a chest of drawers, a book case filled with books and another filled with vials. Both cases had a feel of magic about them; probably wards to keep others from taking the materials without permission.

Now that Harry had finished his inspection of the quarters, he felt more centered. He had a place to escape to if he had need. Severus studied him for a moment, nodded his head, and led him back towards the entrance. He stopped just before they left, taking something out of his pocket. It was a small metal key put on a chain like a necklace.

“This is a blood key,” Severus explained, “I have a similar one. Our door will not open, not even to an unlocking charm, unless you have this key. Once I set it to you, no one else will be able to use it, not even if they use polyjuice. It is not just set to your blood, it is set to your magical core, and that cannot be faked.” Then he told Harry to hold it, and he touched his own key against it with one hand, and his wand with the other while muttering something under his breath. Harry felt something spark between the keys, and then it was done. Then, much to Harry’s annoyance, Severus insisted on fastening the chain about his neck himself.

“But what if I lose the key?” Harry asked, lifting it up to look at it. He could feel the imprint of Severus’s magic running over it still.

“Don’t,” Severus answered simply. Harry dropped the key behind his shirt. Then he followed Severus out the door.

“We will go as panthers for now,” Severus said, “If anyone starts to get too near, we should have enough warning to transform. But after this day, you are never to leave these rooms without your bracelet on.” Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they left the rooms behind, dropping down into their panther forms. Then Severus took off, bounding down the hall and Harry leapt after him. There was still a slight twinge in his hurt shoulder, but it felt good to stretch out all his muscles. In the thrill of the run Harry felt his worries and all the tension that had been building for days melting away. Tomorrow was soon enough for worries. Now it was time to explore.

Many miles away, another figure was running on all fours down stone walls, but it did not bound so much as slink and scuttle through the shadows. Finally, it squeezed under the crack of an a door into a dark, cold room. Then the creature transformed into the shape of a man. Hesitantly, he sidled up to a stone slab. On the slab was another man, one as pale as death and frail in appearance. His hair was wild, his eyes shadowed, and even asleep he looked half wild. The first man approached him with caution. Suddenly, the wild man’s eyes sprung open and with a vicious roar he surged upwards, making as though to leap at the other man’s throat. The first man squeaked and jumped back, but before skeletal fingers could wrap about his throat, harsh shackles caught the man’s wrists and held him back.

“Now, now, old friend,” the first stammered in what he probably meant to be a consoling manner, “No need for that. I am here to help you.” The man snarled in reply, sounding more animal than human. “Your brethren have been alerted,” the first continued, approaching once more but still with great caution, “They will know how to help you face the inner demon. Some call them demons themselves, yes, we used to do the same, remember? Helping poor Moony face his own demon, not knowing what we were awakening within ourselves. But we know now, yes.”

“T-t-trait…” the wild man growled, his tongue finding difficulty with human speech.

“I saved you,” the man answered, his eyes suddenly narrowing, “I have re-redeemed myself. You will see, good friend. I made mistakes, yes, but not now. The old snake his dead, but I found his books. I saved you, and I have made new friends. The wolves are coming, and you will be whole again.”

As Hogwarts Express rolled into the station, Harry Potter was standing nervously on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror, as though by will alone his image would change. An amulet had been added to the chain that held his key, emitting a near unbreakable illusion. If anyone were to ask, they would say that the magical reading came from the accidental deaging and that the amulet itself was there for protection. This would only be half a lie; the amulet did indeed have charms for protection laid upon it, but its primary function was to make Harry the sphinx look more like Harry the boy. It could not, as Harry had wanted, make him look taller or older. Harry had even suggested polyjuicing himself to be his older self, until Severus asked if he had saved hair or toenail clippings from before the change. He was stuck being a child. But his pointed ears had been rounded out, as had his facial features in general. He no longer appeared quite so elfin, but now Harry was certain he looked even younger.

“Unless you are expecting to suddenly grow several feet in the next five minutes, I don’t think staring at yourself will change anything,” Severus said from behind him as he ran a comb hastily through his own hair, “I advise you to resign yourself to your fate and hurry up.” And with that said Harry was pushed from the bathroom and then shut out. Harry stared at the closed door for a few seconds before wandering into the sitting room, nervously playing with the sleeves to his school robe. He was already wearing his bracelet in anticipation of the coming students, which was a shame because he felt like he was bouncing off the walls with anxiety, and his cat form he had found was much better at using up energy than his boy form. Then the bathroom door opened and Severus appeared again, looking proper and unruffled.

“Are you ready to go, or do you want to admire yourself in the mirror a bit longer?” he asked. A few months ago, Harry would have taken serious offence at that. Now, he had to resist the sudden urge to stick his tongue out at the man. Besides, he was far too distracted and nervous to really pay attention.

“Can I have my wand now?” he asked, his nervousness coming out in a sudden stream of dialogue, “You said I’d get it at the opening feast, and that starts soon. And of course, we already did the testing to make sure I’d be able to handle seventh year spells, because everyone says children don’t have the proper control or something, and then you said I wouldn’t even get to take classes the same as the other children, well I will sit the classes of course, but not do most of the written work, but that just means I’ll get to practice even more practical stuff, so of course I need my wand. Do you think Ron and Hermione and everyone will think it weird with me so small?”

“Do remember to breathe,” Severus said, a slight smile playing about his lips though his tone was that of tired patience. Harry was never fooled by his tone anymore, anyway. He could sense what Severus was feeling easily, especially when his phiter had been sending him waves of soothing calm in the hopes of easing Harry’s nerves. “Yes, you may have your wand, but I am warning you it will be taken away if you misuse it. And no doubt your friends will get used to the change in your size. Are you ready to go?”

“Er…yes?” Harry answered, not sounding sure at all, and Severus pulled Harry’s wand out from his own robes to hand to the boy. Harry took it eagerly. It made him feel better that, even though he looked like a child, he had something no other child would be allowed. It was a reminder that he really was seventeen, even if he didn’t always feel like it.

They arrived at the great hall before the students. A few of the professors were already seated at the table or gathered in a group and talking. A few were notably absent, doubtless busy seeing to the arrival of the students. Harry knew Hagrid would be bringing the first years and Professor McGonagall would be getting ready to lead them in. The Potions professor, Slughorn, was also absent. Harry knew from last year’s experience that he was probably on the train, already recruiting among the students for his Slug Club.

Dumbledore was also missing, and Harry found himself suddenly curious as to what role he had in the arrival of the students. He had never noticed that the man did much of anything until it came time to address the school. There didn’t seem to be much of anything left to do in the hall itself; it was as clean as always and the sorting hat was already out and resting on its stool. Severus led Harry up to the staff’s table where a booster chair had been put in place for him, transfigured from a regular chair so that Harry could reach the table. It lowered itself to his touch, just like his bed did, and raised itself again once he was sitting. Harry didn’t know what he would do when he was eating at the Gryffindor table where there were no individual chairs. It was too embarrassing to even contemplate.

“Do calm down, Harry, I can hear your heart racing from here,” Severus remarked in a tone that was far from kind. Several of the professors turned to look at him in shock or glare with disapproval. Severus looked smug. This time Harry did stick out his tongue, causing the professor to very nearly smile.

“You know,” Harry whispered, leaning towards Severus so that only he could hear, “It will be hard enough convincing people you aren’t evil without you making comments like that.”

Before Severus could respond, Dumbledore appeared. They only just had time to nod their heads in a greeting before the first of the students began to trickle in. Harry sensed them before he saw them.

It was a very uncomfortable feeling, but not nearly so bad as he had feared. In his boy form and in familiar territory, with a known place of refuge that he could escape to, the panic didn’t come. He found himself seeking out Severus’s hand anyway, below the table. He wasn’t panicking, but he was still far from calm.

He didn’t see anyone familiar in the first wave of students. Then more and more people were coming in, acquaintances from his classes or house among them. None of them noticed Harry sitting at Professor Snape’s side, for which Harry was glad. He was not looking forward to his appearance being explained.

Malfoy and his gang swaggered in next, not even looking towards the high table. Harry was half surprised he felt nothing of malevolence as soon as Draco walked through the door. Not that they had really fought recently; Malfoy had been rather quiet during their sixth year in fact, ever since the fall of Voldemort.

Then, at last, came the people Harry had been waiting for and dreading. He saw Ron first, towering over the others though Neville seemed to have grown a bit over the summer himself. Hermione was at Ron’s side, of course, as was Ginny and Luna. Unlike Malfoy, who had gone straight for his table without deigning to look about, this group began to scan the room. They looked at the Gryffindor table first, and then at the staff table. Luna spotted him first, giving a friendly wave without seeming the slightest bit perturbed or surprised by his change in appearance. Then Hermione saw him and gave a small squeak of surprise, her hands going over her mouth. She had been told what to expect, of course, but knowing and seeing were definitely not the same thing. Her squeak got everyone else’s attention and soon they were all staring at Harry. It took all of Harry’s will power to not lower his chair and attempt to hide under the table.

The girls recovered first. Hermione was already attempting to appear as though everything was perfectly normal while Ron and Neville continued to gape. Ginny took it upon herself to whap Ron on the back of his head. Then there was a brief, nearly silent argument among the five teens about if and how they should approach their friend. Harry, feeling decidedly odd, made no move to go towards them. He still had not let go of Severus’s hand. Finally, Hermione shooed the other four towards the Gryffindor table and approached alone. Of the five of them, she was the best at being discrete and the least likely to call attention if she approached the professors. It hardly mattered anyway; the room was nearly full of students by then and it was too much to hope that none of them would happen to see Harry. Already, a wave of whispers was sweeping the room though it had yet to drown out the louder noise of students settling in for a new year.

“Harry!” Hermione squeaked excitedly when she finally reached him, “We missed you this summer!” She leaned in to hug him, which Harry allowed as he finally released his phiter’s hand. A wave of tumultuous emotions radiated off her in a great jumble, excitement mixed with worry and interest all rolled together, but most predominate was affection. Thankfully, in boy form and with Severus helping him to shield, her emotions were easily read and then distanced from himself. Harry smiled shyly back at her, some of his nervousness easing. “The others wanted to come see you too, of course, but we didn’t think it would be good for all of us to clamor up here.”

“Indeed,” Severus mumbled, but he held back any further remarks he might have made. Hermione glanced at him, then turned her attention back on Harry.

“I missed you too,” Harry said, and then, “Perhaps you can come see me in my room, before curfew. Severus keeps saying he wants to talk to you, anyway.” Hermione looked startled at Harry calling their professor by his first name, even more so that said professor would allow it, but she recovered quickly.

“Of course,” she said, “I’ll let the others know.” Then she dashed back down to her table just before the first years were led in to try on the hat.

The sorting felt longer than usual to Harry. By then, nearly all the students had noticed a small boy sitting at Professor Snape’s side, and whispered discussions questioned who he was. Not everyone had put together the fact that Harry Potter was missing with a child suddenly appearing. In fact, Harry picked up a whispered conversation as to whether or not he could be Severus’s son. The thought that people might think that made him feel strange. He wanted to belong to Severus, as odd as the thought still made him feel, but he didn’t want to cease being his own father’s son.

After the sorting came the feast. Still feeling rather anxious, Harry didn’t have much of an appetite and finished quickly. Professor McGonagall, who was seated at Harry’s other side, kept trying to convince him to eat more in a manner that implied detentions would soon follow if he didn’t. Severus suggested she start docking house points, to which she glared at him and turned back to Harry with a motherly tone which was slightly alarming coming from her. Long before the feast was over, a time that Harry had been dreading because he knew Dumbledore would be explaining his youthful appearance, Severus suggested that they leave.

“Don’t we have to stay until the end?” Harry asked, “For the announcement?”

“I don’t see why,” Severus answered, “Unless you need to hear the announcement to know what happened to you?” Harry gave him a look in return that was meant to be fierce but instead made several of the table’s occupants coo at how cute he looked. After that, Harry was more than happy to leave.

“Besides,” Severus said as they slid away from their seats, “I want to talk with your…friends…before I go talk to the Slytherins.” Harry nodded and looked towards the Gryffindor table. All five were seated together, despite the fact that Luna really should have been at the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still shoveling food into his mouth though the others seemed mostly finished already. “You can tell them there will be refreshments,” Severus added, a sneer evident as he watched Ron try to speak and chew at the same time, and then he gave Harry a light push in the direction of his friends. Harry hesitated only a moment before he went to them.

“Hey guys,” he said, trying to sound as though everything was perfectly normal. Ron jumped and nearly choked on his food.

“Hello, Harry,” Luna answered, “Are we leaving now?”

“Harry!” Ginny cried, her arms making an aborted move to pick him up. Neville was gaping again until Ginny nudged him.

“Hello, Harry,” he said then, giving a faint smile. Harry smiled back, feeling suddenly shy. He wasn’t quite so anxious as when he met Remus, but he wasn’t quite comfortable either. If he hadn’t known them so well, and if he weren’t able to sense their general group affection, he probably would have gone running straight back to Severus.

“Severus wants you all to come with us,” he said instead. Ron nearly choked again at hearing Harry call the professor ‘Severus’, despite having no food in his mouth that time. “He said there will be refreshments,” he added, glancing towards Ron’s still full plate. Luna was already standing, even before Harry started talking, and now the others began to stand up as well, though Ron still tried to shovel in one last bite. That was when some of the girls at the table finally noticed the tiny child standing in their midst.

“Ooh, he’s so cute!” he heard Lavender Brown squeal and Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. Ron, with equal alarm, stood up at last. Together the six teens hurried away to where Severus was waiting. Severus looked them all over with an expression of ill concealed contempt before turning on his heels and striding towards his and Harry’s rooms. As Harry half jogged to catch up, he started to truly worry about how the school would react to him. He had been prepared for them to mock him, in Malfoy’s case, or to stare and whisper behind his back. He had not considered how the girls might react to a small child, though from the amusement he had gleamed off his phiter, Severus obviously had.

To keep up with the others, Harry ran half skipping alongside his friends. The further they went from the other students, the further Harry’s anxiety fled, being replaced by a mixture of shyness and curiosity. He had never been able to look at his friends in such a real, tangible way before, even muted though his observations were through his boy form. He didn’t quite know how to act around them, or how they would react to his changes, but somehow he didn’t really feel afraid. It was impossible to really fear rejection when one can sense another’s affection. It wasn’t so strong or sharp a feeling as when he was with his clan, but it was there. Hermione was equally curious, trying to observe him without him noticing. She was a bit upset about the pace they were forcing him at, or rather the pace Severus was forcing them at. She obviously wanted to ask for them all to slow down, but she was so afraid of offending Harry by implying he couldn’t keep up that she didn’t. An equally anxious Ginny’s arms kept twitching. Harry found the idea rather funny, actually, that they were so worried about offending him but he could still sense what they were thinking quite clearly. He started to giggle, then choked on it and wound up coughing violently as he tried to catch his breath. This brought the entire procession to a halt.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione asked worriedly, going down on one knee in front of him while Ginny rubbed his back. Harry discovered that reassuring his friends required that he stopped coughing and to breathe properly something he had yet to manage. It didn’t help when he heard Ron mumbling to Neville that even turned into a kid Harry still got all the girls. He had to fight against the laughter suddenly bubbling up inside him. Severus was suddenly there as well, not looking particularly worried.

“Did you choke on a gilligle, Harry?” Luna asked, her voice solemn and perfectly serious. As the teenagers were quite used to her ways, no one even bothered to ask what a gilligle was. Harry managed to stop coughing and breathe normally. Severus picked him up then, despite Harry’s protests that he was fine, and carried him the rest of the way to their rooms. The others followed silently, Ron apparently in shock at the sight of Severus carrying any child, let alone the fact that this child was Harry. At the rooms, Severus set him down and let him unlock the door. Harry found that much more exciting than he felt the event probably warranted. Perhaps it had something to do with an old Dursley memory involving being locked out of the house.

“This is my rooms,” Harry declared, motioning for the others to come in, “Well, Severus too, of course, “This is the sitting room part, and over there is the kitchen part, and that is a bathroom and a closet, and we can’t go in Sev’s room, and here is mine!” The excitement of actually showing off his home, or at least his school home, was quickly overcoming his shyness. Severus looked slightly amused, especially at the expression on everyone’s face when Harry reffered to him as ‘Sev’. It wasn’t only Ron who was in shock. Before they quite knew what was going on, Harry managed to lead all five of them into his room while Severus stopped at the doorway.

“You may explain, but no demonstrations,” he instructed Harry, ignoring the gaping expressions the others were giving him, “You must be much better at shielding before you can be around humans in your cat form. I will probably go see my Slytherins soon. Will you be alright with your friends if I leave?” Harry paused in his demonstration of his bed, some of his excitement draining as he considered this. He felt fine now, but a good deal of that was with the help of his phiter. He liked knowing there was someone he could run to if he needed. But he didn’t want to admit to needing someone, not to himself and really not to his friends. And he did feel safe.

“You can come with me if you prefer,” Severus suggested, sensing his hesitation.

“That’s alright, Pher,” Harry answered at last, “You can go.” He had been practicing using Severus’s new title so often in the last couple of days, partly to get himself used to it and partly because it was so exciting having a real family, that the name came out now without his even noticing. Not that it mattered; none of the other children knew what that meant. Severus nodded, allowing a slight, warm smile at the name, before turning his attention on Harry’s friends.

“I will be talking to you before you leave,” he announced, his tone ominous, “Stay until then. If any harm comes to Harry, I will be holding each of you responsible.”

“Sev!” Harry cried, clearly mortified. With a final smirk towards the boy, Severus departed. There was a long silence among the teens.

“So…you’ve been living with Snape, then?” Ron said at last in an attempt to make conversation. Harry nodded, his shyness returning. He still didn’t quite know how to explain going from hating Snape to being family with Severus in the space of a month.

“Remus told us about seeing you,” Hermione said, when it became evident no one else was going to speak, “He even got to read a book, I think, but wasn’t allowed to take it back with him? He didn’t have time to tell us much, really.” At that, Ron snorted then tried to look innocent when Hermione turned to glare at him. That got Harry to smile; doubtless Remus had told them a lot but not nearly enough to satisfy Hermione’s curiosity.

“The sphinx are really secretive,” Harry answered, “And they really don’t trust werewolves.”

“Oh,” Hermione answered, swallowing all her indignation against yet more prejudice.

“So…you know I’m a sphinx?” Harry asked, when once again silence threatened to take over.

“Actually, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny have only just told us a bit on the train,” Neville said, “They were afraid to tell us by owl in case it got intercepted. You know how paranoid the ministry has been lately, looking out for Death Eaters or new dark lords rising.”

“And all we know is that you became a sphinx when you turned seventeen,” Hermione added, “And have been living with Professor Snape who is also one.”

“Oh,” Harry answered, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with everything they didn’t know. Even Luna was staring at him now with expression of intense interest. “Well, I woke up on my seventeenth birthday looking kinda like I do right now. Except not exactly; I’m wearing an illusion.” He paused in his explanation to pull off his chain holding the amulet and key to show him his real features. The others started, as though just seeing him once again for the first time.

“Moody said I looked like an imp,” Harry added, frowning. Ginny let out a whimper and then sat down on top of her hands, ignoring the looks coming her way that seemed to question her sanity.

“I can see why you needed the illusion,” Hermione said at last. Harry shrugged, leaving the amulet off. He felt more comfortable without it, but also more vulnerable.

“I changed into my cat form on accident a little after that,” Harry continued, leaving out the part about being distressed by his relatives, “And then Aunt Marge came with her dog.” His audience looked alarmed, obviously guessing that this was not a good thing. “I got bit in the shoulder,” Harry continued, “And then Sev showed up and rescued me, because he had gotten my distress call or something. Other sphinx can sense when a cub is in trouble, and according to the way sphinx age I am obviously still a cub. I was six feet, you know.” He couldn’t quite say why, but it felt important to clarify that. His friends nodded solemnly, still looking rather alarmed.

“I met the rest of my clan, then, while Severus became my guardian because he saved me. He’s not quite the same as the other sphinx, because he was a human until he got his animagus form and did some spells or something to become a sphinx, so even though he’s young he’s a grown up. He became my phiter, and we have more rooms in the manor with the rest of the clan. But I had to come back for my seventh year because they were afraid of the ministry wondering what happened to me if I didn’t. They don’t like people knowing about the sphinx, and of course you know how the ministry is towards non-humans. I don’t want to be declared as some sort of creature. That’s why we are telling everyone there was a potions accident and I got de-aged. You can’t tell anyone outside of this room.”

“What exactly does it meant to be a sphinx?” Hermione asked, her fingers twitching for her to take notes even though she knew she couldn’t. Harry frowned, considering.

“Do you have to stay with Snape?” Ron asked, taking Harry’s silence as a sign he wasn’t going to answer, or perhaps hoping to stave off a long, detailed explanation with a question of his own, “We’d look after you in the dorm.” Harry’s frown deepened.

“He’s my phiter,” he answered, and then, seeing their blank stares and Ron’s look of minor revulsion, he folded his arms over his chest and clarified by saying, “My father.” Now that got a reaction out of them. Luna smiled and nodded approvingly, a sharp contrast to Neville’s look of utter horror. Hermione and Ginny merely looked startled while Ron looked utterly confused. Harry looked down feeling suddenly a bit weird. He still wasn’t comfortable calling Severus his father. He had no intention of giving up James as his dad, or changing his name to Snape or anything like that. But he knew, really, that that was the role Severus had taken up when he became his phiter.

After that, there was a silent agreement to change the topic while Harry allowed the others time to adjust to that news. Instead, he told Hermione everything he knew about the sphinx, though he probably strayed from topics that interested her most quite a bit. He told them somewhat about the new culture, and how ancient they were, and about the ceremony but he trailed off that to talk about his new family and how he had his own room, how Neffy is way older than him and has had years of practice but still can’t outfly him on a broom, though Basta can. At some point, the nubis’wi came up and Harry pulled open his robe to show his shoulder, excitedly telling them how he had faced a savage beast in all its gory detail, despite the fact that most of his memory of the event was a blur, and he neglected to mention the nightmares that still plagued him of teeth and pain and being left alone in the darkness. His friends looked suitably alarmed and admiring; at least the boys did, Hermione merely looked distressed and Ginny was still sitting on her hands with an odd expression on her face. At some point, a house elf appeared bearing a plate of sandwiches. Hermione managed to not comment about slave labor.

Harry pulled his robe back up to cover the savaged scar. Severus had only recently decided that it no longer needed to be bandaged, though he still insisted on poking and prodding more often than Harry cared for. Now that he wasn’t facing the school and his friends hadn’t suddenly turned on him, Harry found his appetite much improved. Ron, surprisingly, seemed to have forgotten he was hungry because he only absently took up a sandwich and didn’t take a second. Hermione didn’t take one but Harry didn’t know if that was because she wasn’t hungry or because she didn’t approve the method to which the sandwiches were acquired.

“The manor has house elves,” Harry suddenly remembered, “One of them helped me when Remus set the alarms off. He was called Eberik Silklinen, and I meant to ask if they were slaves or not, like wizard house elves were, but I didn’t like to ask Eberik and I forgot to ask Sev.” As though he had been called, Severus chose that moment to show up. “Sev!” Harry cried, feeling giddily happy to see him again. If all of his friends didn’t happen to be sitting around him, he might have even given in to the urge to leap at the man and give him a hug. Severus smiled in return, not quite managing to hide the warmth behind it, and Harry could sense the man’s affection and amusement even stronger than usual. “Are the house elves free?” he asked, then, and the man looked rather bemused.

“I will assume you mean those you met at the manor?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry nodded, slightly impatiently, sending his affirmation over their bond in a similar style to mindspeak. Harry’s friends watched the exchange with wide eyes, obviously still not comfortable with Severus’s presence. “It is slightly more complicated than the situation of house elves in the wizarding world,” he answered, “They are not forced to reside in the manor and no amount of clothes giving could force them to leave. But they are not paid for their labor, unless one counts room and board. I never really looked into their history or reason for their service, though I did ask Roo once, when I noticed how different the house elves seemed to act from what I was used to. He did not seem to think of them as slaves. I didn’t care enough to enquire further.”

“Maybe I could ask him at Christmas,” Harry answered, “Or I could ask someone in a letter. Is there a way to send letters safely? Neville said he didn’t get to know about anything until the train because letters aren’t safe.”

“There is a perfectly safe way to send letters,” Severus answered, “Muggle post. The ministry is hopeless when it comes to Muggle contraptions; it wouldn’t even occur to them to search it.”

“But sir,” Hermione said, her voice timid, “How can we sent by Muggle post? There isn’t a post office near Hogwarts.”

“But there is one within easy apparition distance,” Severus answered, and Harry was glad that for once he answered her without his usual tone of derision. She looked rather surprised by this as well. Then, much to Harry’s dismay, Severus said he wanted to talk to all of Harry’s friends, alone. Only his fear of how it would look to throw a tantrum in front of his friends kept Harry from making more of a fuss. That and the still ever present fear that if he misbehaved Severus would change his mind. He told himself, using his seventeen year old logic, that such insecurities were to be expected and perfectly normal and that Severus was not likely to abandon him. His child emotions threw logic out the window and said he better behave, just in case. And he really did want to look like a temperamental four year old in front of his friends.

Severus took Harry’s friends into his own room for two reasons. The first was to magically bind their tongues so that they couldn’t accidently say anything incriminating in front of the other students. The second was to make sure they understood exactly what was going on with Harry.

“He may tell you he is merely a short seventeen year old,” he informed them, “And in many ways he is. He has all his knowledge and memories from before, and he can still do magic. But he has the emotions of a traumatized five year old, coupled with instincts towards curiosity and a need for security. This is partly the way a child’s brain is wired, partly the way sphinx in particular are wired, and partly the shock of suddenly becoming an entirely different species. No matter how he tries to convince you, you cannot treat him as you did before he became a sphinx. You will be, in essence, babysitting him when he is left alone in your company. There are rules. He is never to be left alone, no matter what. You will keep an eye on him. You have heard the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat’? This saying has been around for millennia, and it is not without merit. If I find out he has come to harm on your watch, there will be severe consequences.” The five teens regarded him, only slightly cowed by his deathly glare.

“If harm came to Harry on our watch, we deserve whatever you come up with,” Hermione answered at last, her head high though her eyes betrayed nervousness. Ron, however, with a slightly more knowledgeable background in dealing with small children, mostly from cousins, looked petrified. Neville just seemed to be afraid of Severus, Ginny looked determined, and Luna had wandered to the window and was staring down at the lake. Severus glared in her direction, obviously not appreciating her apparent lack of attention, but he had enough experience with her in class to not push it.

“You may go back to say good night to Harry, and then you really should leave,” he finished with, “It’s almost curfew.” As quickly as dignity would permit, the children ran from the room and back into Harry’s. He was lying on his bed with a book open, doing his best to appear grown up and cool with the entire situation. His friends went along with it and valiantly restrained from pointing out his book was upside down. At least four of his friends restrained, knowing Luna she might merely have assumed Harry preferred to read that way. They all said goodnight, and how they would see Harry in classes. Harry nodded, suddenly nervous again. He was not looking forward to going to class as a child, especially since he knew Severus couldn’t go with him. But at least he knew, now, that he would always have his friends.

Severus came in to check on him after his friends left and to help him take off his bracelet. Harry was feeling anxious enough over the next day to forgive the man for insisting on speaking to his friends alone. He could guess what they were talking about, and that didn’t make him feel any happier. Finally Severus left too, though the connection between them remained strong. Harry stared out his window, feeling sleepy but not quite ready for sleep. The room was bright, even with all the lights out, because the moon was getting close to full. He went to sleep thinking about Remus, but his dreams were filled with mad, diseased dogs and dark corridors and when he awoke the next morning it was in his phiter’s bed.

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.

Harry managed to wait until after lunch to run and see Remus.  There was no hesitation this time, not even when he came close enough to feel the wolf struggling beneath Remus’s skin.  Harry didn’t care what sort of disease the man had; he still felt almost like family.  Remus smiled when he saw Harry charging towards him in the hallway, Hermione and Ron jogging after him with rather desperate expressions.  Forgetting all about his seventeen year old pride, Harry leaped for the man’s arms excitedly.  Remus accepted him with only a momentary look of surprise.

“Hello, cub,” he said, settling Harry’s small body into a more comfortable hold against him.  His startled smile was slowly settling into a pleased glow.

“Hello Professor!” Hermione gasped as she caught up to them.  Ron joined them more slowly; having slowed down the moment he saw Harry wasn’t going to disappear on them.

“Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley,” Remus answered, automatically slipping into professor mode as he started to slowly continue his walk towards a classroom, “Mr. Potter.  Must I remind you all that there is no running in the halls?”  The statement was only mildly chastising and Harry ignored the words in favor of feeling the man’s amusement.  He looked up, however, a moment before another voice made its presence known.

“Indeed,” Professor Snape sneered, “ten points from Gryffindor.”  Severus was staring at Hermione and Ron rather than Harry as he said that.  Ron bristled.

“We were only running because you told us oof,” he said as Hermione elbowed him sharply.

“Yes, professor,” she answered, “It won’t happen again.”  Remus finally set Harry down, still grinning slightly as he did so despite the dark look Severus was now giving him.  Harry ignored it all and shyly leaned up against his phiter.  Except for that one time during lunch, he hadn’t been near him all day and he was enjoying the proximity now.  He only wished the rest of his friends and clan could be there, then everything would be perfect.  Severus’s expression lost some of its sternness and a hand went down to stroke Harry’s head without his quite meaning to.  The moment passed quickly and the professor pulled away.

“Do try to not be late to class,” he murmured, not quite as darkly as he was trying for, and he stalked down the hall towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.  The others watched him go, Harry feeling rather bereft.

“Snarky git,” Ron mumbled, probably meaning for no one to hear.  But with a sphinx and a werewolf present, he soon found himself on the receiving end of two dark looks, one angry and one disapproving.  He turned red.  Hermione didn’t know what he had said, but she could sense the mounting tension.

“Professor Lupin,” she said, “Are you teaching here again?”  Remus smiled at her and Harry turned to look at him hopefully.

“As a matter of fact, Dumbledore asked me here to help with Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he answered.

“You’re teaching with my phiter?” Harry asked, surprised.  Severus hadn’t mentioned that he would have a helper.  Harry didn’t think Sev would like that much, especially if he had to work with Remus.

“Phiter means guardian, doesn’t it?” Remus asked, looking intrigued, “Yes, I am working with him.  He is still the real teacher, of course, I mostly help in demonstrations and the like.  And of course, I’ll be grading all of your work, Harry, as Severus isn’t allowed to.”  Harry nodded, still looking a bit uneasy.  It didn’t help that he could still feel the wolf; it was particularly strong this close to the full moon.  Remus was already looking rather pale.

“Er…I suppose we better get to class,” Hermione commented.

“You better, you mean,” Ron reminded her, “Not all of us signed up for every class in the school.  We have a free period.”  Hermione rolled her eyes towards Ron before swiftly going on her way.  Remus had to leave as well, hurrying in the direction Severus had disappeared.  Very soon the bell was ringing and Ron and Harry were left in a disserted hall.  Ron looked down at Harry, looking suddenly uncertain about what he should do.

“Er…want to play chess?” he asked at last.  Harry shrugged, then suddenly remembered the game Neffy had shown him.

“We could play senetos!” he cried, and taking Ron’s hand he started dragging him back towards his room, telling him all the while about the game with comments about Neffy, Basta, and the rest of the clan thrown in.  Ron followed reluctantly, still looking rather uncertain.

“Are you sure we can come in here?” he asked when they reached the door to the suite.  Harry gave him an amused look as he fished out his key.

“Are you not allowed in your house?” he asked, and he unlocked the door, pulling Ron inside with him.

“It’s your house too; you haven’t even been back to the common room,” Ron pointed out.

“I meant your home, you know, the burrow,” Harry answered as he dashed into his room and began searching out his new game.  He finally brought it out to see Ron still standing near the door, looking rather freaked out to be standing in Professor Snape’s living quarters.  Harry hesitated; the sensation Ron was giving off was akin to having his fur rubbed the wrong way and it was making him feel anxious.

“We can go to the common room if you want,” Harry suggested hesitantly, anything to make Ron stop acting all odd.  After a second, Ron nodded and grinned.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he agreed, and together they left the dungeons.  By the time they made it all the way up into the tower, Harry was beginning to wish he had suggested someplace a bit closer and with less stairs.  Their break time was halfway over as it was, and Harry was beginning to feel tired, his shoulder throbbing.  Ron said the password as Harry hadn’t had a chance to learn it and then led him all the way up to the boy’s dorms.  There were only four beds.  Harry knew that; of course his own bed wouldn’t still be there, but it made the room look odd.  Feeling quiet and shy and tired, Harry set up the game on the floor.  Ron sad down opposite him with his limbs awkwardly folded.

  Harry explained the game as best as he could in one long sentence and they began to play a couple of rounds.  No one else was about; either they were in class or they had decided to spend their break elsewhere.  The game was nearly silent, but not the intense sort of silence Ron sometimes got when playing a particularly challenging game of chess.  It was more the silence of two people who didn’t really know what to say.

“So…what are you doing about quiditch?” Ron asked suddenly, reverting to one of the few topics he could think of, “I suppose you would have to be the smallest seeker ever to play!”  Harry frowned.

“Severus didn’t think it a good idea for me to play on a team,” he answered carefully.  Ron scowled.

“So why does he get to decide?” he demanded, “Have you talked to Professor McGonagall?  You played when you were eleven just fine!”  Harry scowled in return.

“Well, I was bigger then,” he snapped back, “And Sev is my phiter!  Would you do something your dad said you couldn’t?”

“He isn’t your dad,” Ron said, his voice frustrated and a bit confused, “He’s still Snape.  So, he turned out to have something in common with you; that doesn’t make him your father.  Don’t you want to play quiditch anymore?”

“I can play for fun,” Harry screamed, standing up abruptly, “And he is my dad!  He saved me and he said he liked me, and you don’t know anything!”  His face red with fury and his vision blurred, Harry kicked the game across the room and stormed out of the room.

“Harry!” he heard Ron call after him but with a burst of speed Harry dove out through the portrait and ran down the stairs.  Knowing that Ron was probably following him, he quickly slid behind some armor, hunching down in the shadows.  Thanks to his small size he was nearly invisible there, and Ron ran right passed him.  As soon as Ron was out of sight, Harry rushed on, twisting and turning down empty halls until he came to an abandoned classroom.  He slipped inside, crawled beneath a desk, and began to cry morosely to himself. 

“Harry?” a voice whispered inside his head, sounding slightly worried.  But at the same time, Harry became suddenly aware that someone else was in the room.  Someone, or maybe something.  His shoulder suddenly ached with phantom pain, the dog bite burning with heat.  Harry whimpered softly, hyper aware of the shadows surrounding him.  It wasn’t safe there, all alone, and after that first, freezing moment when he couldn’t move, suddenly he couldn’t stay.  He ran for the door, throwing it open and charged down the hall.  He couldn’t tell if he was being followed, if there was anything there at all, though he was sure he felt something fly over his head, the wind of a spell brushing through his hair.  All he knew was that he needed to be somewhere safe; his room, his clan, his phiter.  But he was running blind, just running, and as he dodged around a corner yet another woosh of something swept past in the space he had just been.  And he was growing tired; between the running and his panic it was getting hard to breathe.  Then he sensed someone ahead.

Running on pure instinct, he charged towards the person.  They were coming towards him as well, albeit slowly, cautiously, but steadily quicker.  Then Harry dashed around a corner and saw them.  There were a group of about four people, but only one of them screamed of safety, and Harry dove into his arms.  The person caught him instinctively.

“Potter!” he cried, “What the hell?!”

“Baby Potter?” another voice mocked, but there was too much surprise in their voice for them to really manage a cruel tone.  Harry wasn’t listening to them anyway; he buried his head into the safe person’s robes.

“Potter!” the person cried, their voice alarmed and annoyed and confused, but they didn’t let go of him.  Then several people came into the hall at once.

“Harry?” Remus called, approaching the pair with a pale face, looking rather out of breath, “Are you all right cub?”

“I didn’t do anything,” the person holding him exclaimed quickly, “He just latched onto me!”

“Poor baby,” Parkinson’s breathless voice said in mock baby tones, “Did you think Dwaco was your dada?”  Harry didn’t answer any of them.  He was having enough trouble just breathing.  Then, finally, Severus arrived.  He said nothing but walked directly up to where Malfoy still stood in shock with Harry clinging to him and took the young boy from his arms.  Harry came free immediately, turning to burrow once again into his phiter’s robes.  Calm surrounded him at last; he was someplace of absolute safety.  Harry let himself sink into the warm feeling, and within a minute his breathing settled and then slowed as he fell asleep.  He didn’t hear Remus demanding to know what had happened, or Malfoy continuing to cry that he hadn’t done anything, or even Severus bellowing loudly for the students to disperse.

Severus then sent Neville, who had the misfortune happening by chance upon the scene, off to find Hermione or Ron or whichever of the ‘bloody Gryffindors’ he found first.  The rest of the people in the hall were merely told, more or less, to get lost, except for Malfoy and Remus.  Remus was sent to first inform Dumbledore of the incident and then to take over the last DADA class of the day while Severus had Malfoy come with him back to his and Harry’s quarters.

As soon as they were in the living room, Severus ignored Malfoy completely as he carried Harry into his own room and shut the door.  In fact, Malfoy had to wait nearly half an hour before the professor came back out, Harry still clutched to his side.  Malfoy stared at the small child.

“He didn’t want to be put down,” Severus said somewhat defensively, before looking sternly at the teen.  There was a long moment of silence between them.  Finally, in his most dire of tones, Severus ordered, “Explain.”  Malfoy took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said, “I was just talking to Theodore, and Vince and Greg were there as well, when Potter came tearing straight towards us and tackled me.  Didn’t seem to want to let go.”

“Not that,” Severus said through clinched teeth, “Explain to me why, after I had explained exactly how abysmally stupid the act would be, why did you go ahead with the change.  Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”  Malfoy crossed his arms, a defiant and somewhat sulky expression coming over his haughty features.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answered.  Severus let off a soft growl.

“Transform,” he ordered, “Now.”  Malfoy glared at him for only a second before he turned his eyes away.  Finally, reluctantly, he stood.  A second later, he melted down into a feline form.  A small, chubby, clumsy looking feline form with large eyes and white fur.  The cat gave a mewling snarl towards Severus before it changed back again into a blond haired youth who couldn’t quite seem to meet the professor’s eyes.  Severus smirked.

“Not quite what you expected, is it?” he asked, some amusement managing to come through is scowl.

“You don’t turn into an infant when you change,” Malfoy answered, finally turning his eyes to glare at the other man, “You must not have explained it properly.”

“I told you it was too soon to attempt it,” Severus pointed out, “If you had only waited a few years that wouldn’t have happened.”  Malfoy scowled, then turned his eyes hesitantly onto the form sleeping in Severus’s arms.

“Is this why he came to me?” he asked, “Even if I’m only a half blood, and I don’t have a proper clan, like you?  It felt…strange.”

“It’s instinctive for all sphinx to protect cubs,” Severus answered, “You made yourself into this and you expected to be immune?”

“Is that why you…adopted him?” Malfoy asked, ignoring the question, “Because of this instinct?”

“No,” Severus answered instantly, “I adopted him because he is mine.”  Then, at the odd expression on Malfoy’s face, he clarified, “And I don’t mean I sired him whatever you seem to be thinking.  He is just…mine.”

“So it is instinct,” Malfoy insisted with a smirk.  Severus glared darkly at him.  “Oh come on,” Malfoy continued, “It’s Potter!  You’ve hated him for years, the golden boy who defeated Voldemort!  And now you say he’s yours?”

“I didn’t hate him,” Severus answered, “I had to…train myself to hate him.  It had to be real, or I never could have acted the way I did.  It was…helpful that he looked like his father.  And I got to call him Potter.  The instinct just broke through all the defenses.  As it seems to do with you.  Or do you still think you hate him?”

“It’s Potter!” Malfoy cried.  Severus merely stared at him with an altogether too knowing look.  Malfoy glared back.  Harry began to stir in Severus’s arms.

“Come back after dinner,” Severus directed him sharply, “We have…things…to discuss.”  That said, he waved the youth towards the door.  Still looking rather befuddled despite his attempt at a contemptuous sneer, Malfoy left.  Harry blinked sleepily up at his phiter.

“There was a monster,” he mumbled, snuggling deeper in his phiter’s arms.

“Where were your friends?” Severus asked, his voice soft and soothing.

“Ron’s mean,” Harry answered with a frown, “’Mione was in class.”  That said, he fell back asleep.  This time, he allowed it when Severus lay him down in his bed.

Severus didn’t kill Ron, no matter what the rumors circulating around were.  In the first place, it was Harry who ran away, not Ron who abandoned him.  In the second place, Ron quite honestly hadn’t known that what he said would make Harry blow up like that.  So Hermione called Ron six different synonyms for ‘idiot’, Severus gave him a detention out of principle for losing Harry, and Harry was assigned a mandatory nap time in the afternoon for the foreseen future, under the theory that he was not nearly as recovered from his ordeal that Summer as he would have liked people to think.  A search was made, led by Severus, for the monster Harry spoke of but nothing was found.  Once the Gryffindors were taken care of and new security measures set in place around Harry, Severus began the truly formidable task that day; he told Harry about Draco.

It wasn’t that Severus meant to hide the fact that he had a godson whom he was rather close to.  Not even that said godson happened to be the same Slytherin Harry had been fighting with since first year.  It had just never seemed the right time to bring it up.  First there was the clan to introduce and sphinx culture, then he was getting used to the idea of being a very young, somewhat troubled child’s guardian.  The other child, one that was nearly grown and to whom he had never played more of a role to than favored uncle, had simply seemed unimportant.  In hindsight, and coming on top of the child’s obvious insecurities about his place in Severus’s life, he should have mentioned this sooner.

“Is that why you always favored him in class?” Harry demanded, his arms crossed as he glared at the man.  In perhaps another regrettable decision, Severus had come to tell him right after he first woke up from his nap.  Severus gave him a look that had been known to make first years burst into tears.  Harry seemed rather immune though he did momentarily look away, biting his lip, before he remembered to glare.

“I favored all Slytherins because of my role as spy,” Severus answered patiently, “And Draco in particular because, believe it or not, he is rather gifted in Potions.”  Then, in the face of Harry’s obvious insecurities (Severus could have read them even without an empathic link between them, they were that obvious) he thought to add, “Of course, no more than you are at Defense.”  Harry perked up slightly at that.

“So he isn’t going to come and live with us?” Harry asked, moving slightly closer to the other man in spite of himself, “Will he become part of our clan like you did?”

“Draco has his own family to go home to,” Severus answered, “And in any case he is seventeen years old.  Even if his father hadn’t managed to get out of being sent to prison, he is old enough to live on his own.  As for joining our particular clan, that is extremely unlikely; he isn’t a panther.  Though it isn’t unheard of, it is rare for tribes to intermingle; different types of cats prefer different types of environments and feel more at ease around their own kind.”  Harry frowned, finding that a bit too close some of the racist ideology Muggles had used in the past. 

“It isn’t simply a matter of having different colored fur,” Severus added after reading his expression, “And we don’t live separate lives.  Nor is it forbidden for tribes to intermingle.  In fact, intermarriages are common.  Because of the rarity of children, which is in fact partly caused by such intermarriages, it is also common for close friendships to be forged between tribes simply because of age proximity.  Our family is that of panther; this is our species.  More specifically, we are of the Jaguar variety which in the wild is commonly spotted, though rarely among the Sphinx.  Draco is a tiger, albeit a rare one with white fur.  Tiger sphinx, in general, have different preferences to panther sphinx.  And I will admit, some division is encouraged for the furtherment of the species; friendship is never discouraged.”

“Are all sphinx decided by the hair color?” Harry asked, suddenly curious.  He had never really thought about it before, but everyone in his clan, regardless of their skin color, eyes, or other character traits had black hair.  And Draco, who was blond, had become a white tiger.  Severus didn’t answer for a long moment, as he searched for the words to explain.

“One could just as easily say you have black hair because you are a panther sphinx,” he said at last, “But black hair alone isn’t enough to decide.  Somewhere in your ancestry, someone either was born or lived for some time in South America, enough so that the sphinx form awakened would connect to that particular strain and take form as a cat of that region.  Draco, likewise, must have some Asian roots.”  Harry looked confused at that. 

“So, if someone like Cho Chang became a sphinx, she would become a tiger?” he asked.  Severus pinched his nose for a moment as he worked out a better way to explain.

“Unlikely,” he answered, “Because most of tiger blood turn out to have red or blond hair.  She would more likely be a panther of the leopard kind.  Though I have seen a few tiger sphinx with black hair so it is possible; they are rare and have rather striking black stripes.  But you must understand, most sphinx are not made, as I was or as Draco was, nor are they usually awakened as you were.  They are born as sphinx, having the characteristics of their parents, and hair color is closely tied to fur color, just as eyes hardly change in transformations and never in color.  The fact that you awakened into your sphinx ancestry indicates that you have always had panther sphinx blood in you, and that may very well be why your family line has led to you having black hair.  In fact, if you had originally been born with your mother’s red hair, it would probably have changed to black when you awoke on your seventeenth birthday.”

“But you weren’t born a sphinx,” Harry said, “And you said Draco wasn’t, but you made yourself one.  So why does your hair color match?”

“We could not have done what we did if we had no sphinx blood within us at all,” Severus answered, “We took our animagus forms and they happened to be a jaguar and a tiger.  It is partly because of our sphinx blood and partly because of our hair color that the animals became black and white, not spotted or orange striped.  If I had red hair I would probably still have become a panther, though I cannot say what color I would have been.”

“So Cho could become a tiger,” Harry said, “You said it was unlikely.”

“I think it is unlikely she would become a feline animagus at all, let alone a tiger,” he answered, “And I was in fact thinking from the perspective of a sphinx, not a half blood, I will admit.”

“Just how many different clans are there?” Harry asked suddenly.  Severus had to think for a moment.

“I assume you mean tribes, as in different species?  Not every feline strain equals a sphinx tribe,” he said after a moment, “For instance, I know of no sphinx house cats.  And a few have even died out completely over time, except in the occasional pop up of those like yourself.”  Harry shuddered at the thought; what if he had become a sphinx to a tribe who was dead.  Severus reached his arm out absently while he spoke, drawing Harry in closer, “Roughly eight who regularly meet in Europe,” he said at last after mentally counting in his head.

“What about nubis’wi?” Harry asked suddenly, unable to resist saying the dreaded name in a whisper as he huddled closer to his phiter, “How many of them are there?”

“Roughly the same, though many of the different types fall under ‘wolf’,” Severus answered after a brief pause.  They sat in silence for a long moment before Severus, reluctantly, brought them back to the topic that had started everything.

“Draco is coming down soon,” he said, “I am going to be binding his tongue in the same manner I did to your friends.  Do you wish to talk to him?”  Harry sat squirming in his seat a moment, his face scrunched up in a way that a different sort of person than Severus might have dared call cute.

“Did I really cling to him after the monster chased me?” he asked suddenly, “I don’t really remember that.  I just felt someone who felt safe.”

“It could just as well be said he clung to you,” Severus pointed out, “You’ll notice he didn’t drop you.  And he is quite as confused as you are about it.  He wasn’t expecting that.”

“If he doesn’t join our clan, will he be joining a different one?” Harry asked, suddenly worried, rather unexpectedly, for Malfoy.  After all, Harry couldn’t even imagine being left alone by Severus, never mind having no clan at all.”

“He is a grown man, for all he is still a child,” Severus reminded him, “It will be his decision, of course, but I’m sure a clan somewhere would be willing to take him in, delighted even.  I told you; children are rare among sphinx, they would welcome new blood.”

“But he won’t be joining us,” Harry stated, but looking to Severus for confirmation.

“If he does join a clan and receives his own phiter, it won’t be me,” Severus agreed decidedly.  Harry nodded slowly, then sat back to wait for Malfoy to appear.