Professor McGonagall dusted herself off then walked briskly across the room to stand in front of Harry. She was dressed in green summer robes and was carrying a tartan handbag.

"Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Harry answered, attempting a smile while he continued to hug his knees. "But definitely better than before. I didn't sleep much last night.

"No, I imagine you did not." Harry very much appreciated her no-nonsense air. He didn't need anyone fawning over him right now. She put her bag down on the desk and took her wand out of her robes. "I am going to check on Severus," she said. "He can be a bit cranky when it comes to accepting help so please ignore any shouts or sounds of lamps or knick-knacks being thrown against the wall."

She set off down the hall and within moments he did indeed hear raised voices. Snape's voice was low yet distinct and he would make it out clearly.

"I told Albus I am perfectly fine, Minerva! I'd just like to get some sleep—I was up all night helping plot the destruction of mankind as we know it! "

"Fine, Severus. I will leave you to rest. Just give me a shout if you need to use the loo so I can help you with all those buttons. Poppy said full feeling won't return to your fingers for at least another day."

That statement was followed by the sound of something hitting the wall which was closely followed by the sound of the door closing and…no…not a snort of laughter?

A horrific thought struck him—was Professor McGonagall planning on helping him use the loo? He began flexing the fingers of his left hand, not even bothering with his nearly useless right one. They appeared to be in good working order and were only slightly numb. He resolved to hold it in—forever if necessary—if it came to needing help.

But his Head of House didn't mention the loo when she came back five minutes later with an over-loaded tea tray spinning slowly in the air beside her. She had filled it with interesting biscuits including some Scottish shortbread, ladyfingers and an American chocolate sandwich variety that was popular at Hogwarts. She poured his tea and held up the cream. He nodded and she added a dollop. "One, please," he said when she indicated the sugar. She stirred his cup then set it down and, without asking his permission or giving any indication of what she was about, rearranged him so that his legs were still drawn up, but his body situated in a corner of the couch, only half-reclining. She then handed him the cup and put three biscuits on the saucer.

Harry bit into a piece of shortbread and sipped his tea. The warm liquid seemed to course through him, making even his fingertips tingle.

"What's in this?" he asked, suspicious of the feeling and of the slightly more bitter than normal taste.

"A muscle relaxant," she answered without apology. "Poppy said it will help you get those legs worked out sooner. Drink up, Mr. Potter." She settled on a comfortable looking wingback chair and selected a biscuit. "Now, I understand that you've expressed an interest in studying to be an Animagus?"

Well, that came out of nowhere. When had Snape had time to discuss that particular topic with her? "Umm…yeah. I mean yes, I think I am. I found an interesting book about it back at the cottage but Professor Snape took it away." He tried not to sound petulant—he really wasn't complaining, was he?

"Of course he did. He felt you had quite enough to accomplish this summer without starting down that difficult road as well. Furthermore, he was quite determined that if you did decide to pursue the study, you would do so with an experienced adult and not on your own. While we were all immensely proud of your extracurricular defense group last year—taking your education into your own hands when there really was no other choice—the same cannot be said for this particular line of study. And yes, I do indeed now realize that your father and his friends chartered their own course, so to speak. Exceedingly dangerous, though.

"Professor McGonagall," asked Harry. "How did you know I was interested in becoming an Animagus?"

She looked at him keenly, almost as if he was coming up a few brain cells too short in this conversation. "Why, Severus floo-called me after you had gone to bed that night. It was only a matter of time, after all—we'd all been watching for any signs of interest on your part. What with your father and Sirius both…. Well, anyway, we discussed the matter at some length and both feel that if you are able to master becoming an Animagus, it might actually replace the need for Occlumency."

"Replace Occlumency? What do you mean?" This was intriguing.

"While I understand that you have been extremely successful in occluding, it is almost as if you do it too well. You put in place a nearly complete sensory block. Professor Snape is concerned that you could literally lose yourself in your occluded state—that without someone to pull you out of it, you would remain occluded…" She trailed off, not finishing the statement. "Anyway, he was intrigued with the Animagus possibility as a safer alternative to Occlumency."

Harry had been warned by both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall about the life-threatening risks of Animagus transformation. And how she was saying it was safer than Occlumency?

"Professor Snape and I tried an experiment." He returned his wandering attention to his head of house, who was continuing. "I transformed into my feline form and he attempted to legilimize me. Even while staring directly into my eyes, and with no attempt on my part to occlude, it was a complete failure! He couldn't read me at all. The animal mind is fundamentally different than the human mind and while a witch or wizard is in the Animagus form, their brain structure is … well, that of an animal." She chuckled. "And I was throwing out all kinds of tempting memories to him—hunting for mice in his potions cupboard, jumping from shelf to shelf, curling up on his lap one evening after a particularly-long staff meeting, me awarding points to a group of Gryffindors for their exemplary bravery in battling a troll…"

Harry smiled. "So…because a Legilimens can't break into an animal's ind, if I can transform into an Animagus form, I won't need to occlude. I can basically break the link between myself and Voldemort."

To her credit, Professor McGonagall barely flinched at his use of Voldemort's name. "Precisely, Mr. Potter. That is what Professor Snape believes, anyway. However, you must understand that very few wizards are able to master the Animagus form. Of those that do, some never develop a comfort with their animal form and cease to practice the art. I had an apprentice once who managed his first transformation and found himself in the body of a shark. And while I must say that the form fit his personality perfectly, he lived nowhere near the ocean. You can't just go transforming into a shark in the middle of Scotland now, can you? I had to conjure quite a large tank for him while I talked him back through the return to his human form. And of course, when he transformed back, he was four feet under water in the tank."

Harry had been worried about that. What if he found himself in the body of an earthworm or a jellyfish? "So you don't get to choose your form. Not ever?"

"No, Mr. Potter, you do not. The intrinsic nature of a witch or wizard is the most influential factor, but not the only one. For example, in my younger days—and don't you repeat this, mind you—I was often accused of being quite catty. My mentor, Adella Shufflebottom, the witch with whom I studied the Animagus transformation, had a reputation for fiercely protecting her charges. Not surprisingly, her Animagus form was a bear.

"So…why was…" he paused. It was still difficult to speak of his godfather in the past tense. He lowered his voice. "Why was Sirius a dog?"

McGonagall stared at him keenly a moment. "Have you ever owned a dog, Mr. Potter?"

He shook his head. Before Sirius, his experience with dogs was limited to Aunt Marge's dog Ripper.

"Ahhh. Well, one of the most endearing qualities of a dog is loyalty. Sirius Black, while perhaps the bane of my existence for several years in Gryffindor House, was as loyal as a Hufflepuff to his friends and housemates. His actual Animagus form was curious—a mutt rather than a purebred variety. It was as if even in his Animagus form, he rejected the Purebred society in which he had been brought up."

"Well, I can see why Peter Pettigrew was a rat," said Harry. His resentment of Wormtail grew every time he thought of him in the same conversation as Sirius. "But what about my dad? Why a stag?"

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry. "Sometimes I forget, Harry, that you never knew your father. Those who knew him and loved him would find it apt that the man who died protecting you had the Animagus form of a stag. The stag is the protector of the forest, one who will stand his own ground, watchful and valiant. A stag is both independent and proud and in some cultures represents purity."

"My Patronus is a stag," said Harry, looking down into his teacup.

"I am aware of that, Mr. Potter," answered Professor McGonagall, smiling slightly over her teacup. "It is not unusual for one's Animagus form and one's Patronus to be the same or similar. Mine, for example, are the same. But it is not a given. Sometimes, it is one's emotional make-up rather than one's nature that most influences the Animagus form. Someone who has loved keenly may actually take on a form more similar to the loved one than to himself or herself. This is especially common when one has lost the loved one tragically."

"Do you have to be good at Transfiguration to be an Animagus?" asked Harry, a bit worried. He recalled now that Dumbledore had been concerned that Transfiguration wasn't his strongest subject.

"You do," answered his professor, not beating around the bush. "Theory and practice. Extra practice will help you considerably, Mr. Potter. You tend to be successful at whatever you really put your mind to, so I suggest you begin putting your mind to Transfiguration during your 6th year. If Professor Snape decides the time is right, I will take you on as an apprentice this year. I have one seventh year interested as well, but there is room in my schedule for two this term."

"If Professor Snape decides…?" That reminded him of what Dumbledore had said before he left—that he had an errand Harry was to go on if Snape would allow it.

"Well, he has assumed responsibility for you this summer, hasn't he? And adult consent is required if the witch or wizard begins training while still under-aged. Normally, the consent is given by the parents or guardians." She shook her head. "I don't know where the Headmaster is with resolving your situation."

"My situation? What do you mean?"

"Has Severus not spoken to you about this yet?" Her lips narrowed into a thin line as Harry shook his head. "Mr. Potter, you can hardly go back to the Dursleys now, can you? Yet you are still under-aged. You will need a guardian. Since you are in school full-time, one of your professors will likely assume the responsibility."

"Oh." Harry considered that a moment. He supposed it wasn't all that important, just a formality, since he was already 16.

"Harry, I will be happy to formally fulfill that role for this last year and have told Professor Dumbledore as much. I am sure he will discuss this with you soon." She reached over to her handbag and pulled out a roll of parchment and conjured a quill and ink. "Now, let's do something productive while we wait for Professor Snape to stumble out here, too proud to ask for help." She grinned, somewhat evilly in Harry's opinion. "Let's make a list of your innate qualities and strengths and see if we can predict what your animagus form might be."

Harry perked up. That sounded interesting. But frankly, he was already a bit tired of all of this introspection he'd been doing at the bidding of his instructors.

"Does that work? Were you able to predict your form?"

She smiled wryly. "It does work, sometimes. In my case, I predicted I'd be a cougar. I supposed I imagined myself a bit more fierce and exotic than a simple house cat. Still, I suppose I was on the right track."

They worked for a half an hour, listing qualities such as loyalty, protectiveness, rashness, stubbornness and compassion. McGonagall suggested, rather kindly he thought, that Harry had been so inordinately affected by loss in his short life that his Animagus form might seek to honor those he had lost more than one or more of his most salient traits.

Harry pondered this, wondering if he could be a dog, or a stag. He supposed it was most likely he'd turn out to be a stag like his father. A fleeting thought crossed his mind. His mother.

"I guess my mum wasn't an Animagus," he said. "Do you know what form her Patronus took?"

An odd look crossed the professor's face and he thought she glanced down the hallway before she answered. But she shook her head.

"No Mr. Potter. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't."