One-shot: The Shape of Your Soul by RiddikuLiss

“Samson, sh!” Harry whisper-yelled, holding a finger up to his lips. “you’re going to get us caught!”

A meek ‘sorry’ was heard somewhere off to his right, and Harry peered blindly into the the dark corridor, catching a glimpse of “Samson” fluttering by in the overheard candle light.

His daemon, currently taking the form of a small black bat, flapped his wings and hovered over Harry’s head, before dropping down to perch on Harry’s shoulder.

“Where are we going, Harry?” He asked, snuggling close to his humans cheek as the boy threw his newly acquired invisibility cloak over them. A Christmas gift, from and anonymous giver.

“Wherever we want to go Sam” he replied with a grin, desperate to try out his new present. “the night is ours for the taking”

The little black bat huffed, shuffling back and forth on Harry’s shoulder nervously. He was less impressed by their Christmas present. “Yeah, until either filch or a prefect come round the corner and catch us”

In the dim light hallway Samson saw Harry’s grin grow in size, “Ah, That’s where you come in, Sammy”

The young daemon sprung from the boy’s shoulder, flapping its wings and hovering mid air before his human. Harry winked at him- knowing he’d be able to see it with his keen eyesight, “You’re the look out”

Although he couldn’t see him, Harry knew his daemon was rolling his eyes. “Now hurry” he commanded, creating a small gap in the cloak, “Go check around that corner and see if the coast is clear”

Samson did just that. He swooped down the corridor, reaching the corner just as Harry began to feel an uncomfortable tug in his chest- a clear indication that they were reaching the distance limit of their bond. He rubbed a hand to his aching chest, and rtwatched as his daemon stuck his little black head round the side of the hallway.

Quick as a flash, Samson darted back to him, and Harry enclosed them both back into the safety of the invisibility cloak.

“We’re all good to go” was his daemons breathy reply, and Harry began to move down the corridor as silently as he could.

They turned the corner briskly, and another, and another-

“Stop, stopstopstop!” Samson whispered hurriedly into Harry’s ear, his finely tuned bat ears having picked up a sound from further down the dark corridor. Harry stilled immediately, holding his breath.

Samson began making small noises in his ear, little squeaks and cheeps, and Harry knew he was shifting forms in his nervous state. Swallowing his own trepidation, Harry hushed his daemon, before reaching out for him. Samson, who was now a larger and furrier animal, leaped into his arms, and Harry clutched him close, as if he could physical contain his daemons fear.

He could hear it now too. Growing closer down the hallway;

Footsteps.

“Someone’s coming” Samson breathed, small voice filled with dread.

Harry watched with bated breath, as the candle on the wall illuminated a pair of shadows. Another human and their daemon were coming their way.

“Quick!” Harry said, shuffling to the side of the hallway, “against the wall”

Harry made sure that the cloak was fully covering the two of them, before pressing himself as far up against the cold stone wall as possible. He was just in time, as not a moment later, two figures rounded the corner.

They saw the persons daemon first; a beautiful charcoal black panther emerged, amber eyes glimmering in the dark as they swept from left to right, drinking in their surroundings.

“Oh no” Harry whispered, and Samson began shaking like a leaf. They both recognised the proud feline instantly, as well as who the large cat belonged to.

“It’s Jana” Samson mewled, staring wide eyed at the bold creatures rather sharp claws and even sharper set of teeth. “It’s Jana, Harry. we’re done for”

Harry had barely enough time to tell his daemon to shut up before the panthers other half came into view.

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat and stared on with bated breath as a tall, dark cloaked figure appeared from behind the corner.

“Professor Snape” Harry breathed, before attempting to squash both himself and his daemon further up against the wall.

The Potions Master in question paused in the middle of the hallway, his wand drawn and illuminated at the nib, casting a dim blue light along the castle walls.

His dark eyes narrowed as he surveyed the area, shining his wand over all corners of the corridor, passing over Harry multiple times. Harry shuddered as the light from the mans wand swept over him again, and willed himself and his daemon to be as still as humanly possible.

He watched as Snape’s wand movements stilled, before the man looked to his daemon, who had simultaneously glanced up at him. They both shared a long look, a silent conversation unfolding between a series of glances and facial expressions- eventually they conceded. Without a word, they began moving down the corridor, passing Harry and Samson as they went.

Harry let out the breath he was holding with a sigh, but his relief was short lived, as he felt Samson become increasingly heavier in his arms. His daemon had now flickered back and forth between animal forms that frequently, and that fast, that he now accidentally transformed himself into a mix of a beagle and a large hare.

“Sam” Harry whispered, panicking when he strained to hold his daemon up. Samson was still switching shape in the boy’s grasp, “Samson, Stop”

But it was no use, the young daemon was a bundle of nerves. He transformed again and Harry could no longer manage the weight in his arms- Samson toppled to the ground, rolling out from their hiding place.

Harry gasped. He heard Snapes footsteps come to a screeching halt, and in a panic- began blindly reaching for his daemon, trying to pull him back into the safety of the invisibility cloak.

In his attempt, Harry tripped. He fell on top of his faithful companion, a strangled “oof” squeezing past his lips, and his cloak tangled up at his knees.

A blue light quickly cast over the pair, and Harry scrunched his eyes up at the abrupt brightness.

“Well, what do we have here?” a voice drawled out from above, followed by a low guttural growl from the elegant panther daemon.

Harry winced. He held a hand up to shield his eyes, before staring up into the stern face of his potions teacher. Samson, still shifting, gave Harry a sharp kick in the leg with one of his hooves, before uttering a small, scared bleat.

Harry gave his teacher a sheepish smile,

“We got lost?”

—————————————————————————————————

“I’m sure you are well aware of what time curfew is by now, Mr potter”

Harry was refusing to meet eye with the man on the other side of the desk, and only slouched further down in his chair at his words. He folded his arms securely around his middle, scuffing his shoe on the floor in a swooping, pendulum motion- pulling tongues at his daemon, who was paying him no notice.

The daemon in question was off to the left, and having gained some control over his shifting once more- had settled on the form of a young serval cat. Harry watched his daemon as it interacted with the professors; Samson was sat up straight, a striking contrast to Jana, who lay with her back to him, long black tail flicking about idly. Samson reached out a small, spotted paw every now and then, trying to catch the moving appendage without the older daemon being aware. He was hopeless, of course, and was quickly caught in the act.

Harry scowled at him, wincing when Jana had grown tired of the young daemons game, and reared back to nip at the smaller cats ear. Samson yowled at the sharp, reprimanding bite.

Harry felt the remnants of the keen sting himself, and grimaced.

“Mr Potter” His teacher snapped, the admonishing tone he used doing well to pull the boy’s attention back to him. Harry faced Snape fully this time, and with respect.

“I’d like to know exactly what is was you were thinking?” The man asked, raising a brow at the small boy sat opposite him. He watched Harry like a hawk, noticing how the boy was trying his best to make himself as small as possible in his chair. “Running about the castle at night? When you’re supposed to be in bed. Asleep”

The boy chewed his lip, before pressing his lips into a thin line, as if he were trying to force himself not to speak. Snape just stared, amazed by his own patience with the boy. This wasn’t the first time he’d caught him wandering the halls late at night, and by now he was sure he’d have had enough with dealing with the young Gryffindor. Yet, the more he’d seen the boy after school hours, the more he’d grown to understand exactly how the boy thought.

And right now, as he watched Harry force his lips tightly together; he knew the boy was itching to talk.

He asked again, “what were you thinking, Potter?”

It was a while before Harry answered him,

“I was ‘thinking’ that we wouldn’t have been caught if ‘somebody’ hadn’t given us away” Harry bit out, giving a pointed look to his daemon, who’s ears fell back against his little head in shame.

“Don’t be angry with your daemon, Mr Potter” Snape quickly cut in, coming to the aid of Harry’s daemon much to both of their surprise. “After all, he’s only feeding off of your own emotions”

Harry frowned, brows pinching together, before huffing and grumbling under his breath about something being “unfair”. Regardless of what he said, he knew that his teacher was right. Samson shared the same emotions, feelings and experiences as he did. Because, at the end of the day;

Samson is Harry, and Harry is Samson.

“Do not mumble, Young man” Snape rebuked, rapping his knuckles sharply on the desk in front of the boy, gaining Harry’s attention once more. “It’s incredibly rude. Speak with a little more respect or I shall have to resort to deducting house points till you drop that awful habit”

Harry had to restrain from rolling his eyes. “This is so unfair!” He whined, fists curling in frustration. But he quickly found that the only person he could point the blame to, was himself.

Samson, sensing Harry’s agitation, began twitching and shifting again. In the space of a few seconds he’d transformed into several different animals, and was now a mix between a squirrel and a mouse.

He scuttled up the chair leg, climbing up his human and settling on his shoulder. Harry smiled at him, but it was watery and false. His face crumbled when he looked at Samson’s very...unique form, and he had to quickly look away in embarrassment.

“It’s unfair” Harry whispered into the room, and he spotted the Professor shift in his chair out the corner of his eye.

“Samson isn’t like other daemons” Harry pushed on through the lump catching in his throat. “He...freaks out a lot. Changes shape too much, can’t settle for long.”

Snape looked pensively at him, dark eyes reading the boy’s face. He shrugged lightly, “Many children’s daemons are unable to settle just yet, I would expect yours to do the same. You’re daemon shouldn’t settle until you’re much older”

Harry shook his head in frustration, “no, you don’t get it!” He snapped, only to falter, and give an apologetic look to his teacher, whose calm face had grown steely at the outburst. Snape gave him a long, disapproving look, but remained silent, allowing the boy to continue;

“We thought at first that it was normal. That maybe a lot of wizard children’s and their daemons were like us. But they’re not. And they make ‘that’ very clear too”his voice wavered into a barely audible whisper, as he began to wring his hands nervously, unable to contain his sudden word vomiting. He spoke, voice so low and soft, that his professor had to strain his ears to pick up what he said next.

“Guess I’m just as much of a freak here as I was in the Muggle world”

A long silence filled the room after that, the only noises that could be heard were the bubbling and hissing of potions being left to simmer on the far table behind Harry, and the crackling of orange flames in the large green fireplace to the boy’s right, heating the cool dungeon room. Despite the warmth it oozed, Harry still shivered like a leaf.

Snape read him for long moment, taking notice of the way the boy’s daemon snuggled close to him- seeking affection amidst his twitching and shape-shifting. The boy didn’t refuse his daemon that comfort, but he didn’t actively give him any either. It was strange, stoic- and Snape felt uneasy at the sight.

He spoke.

“-Self hatred is a very cruel thing, Mr Potter”

Harry’s head whipped up to look at him. He stared, dumbfounded, at his Professor who merely blinked at him in reply.

“What do you-?”

But before the boy could finish his sentence, the fireplace flared to life. Bright green light reflected into the office, dancing across the boy’s rosy cheeks as all inhabitants’ attention were brought to the large fireplace; A floo call.

“Severus” a familiar voice called, evoking the Potions master to move up out of his seat and over to the fireplace.

A face popped up into the flames, and Harry and Samson both craned to see who it was. They’d barely got a good look before Jana intervened, giving them scolding hiss as she stalked past Harrys seat to sit dutifully next to her human. Harry, heeding the large panthers warning, sat back in his seat- defeated. That didn’t stop him, however, from listening in on the call as best he could.

“I’m here, headmaster” Snape said; perching down in front of the emerald flames.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at him in greeting.

“Ah good” he chirped, “I’ve just received a call from a very distressed Professor McGonagall. Informing that one of her lions is missing from their bed”

“Yes. Your missing lion is here with me” The Potions master answered, before he sourly added. “I found him wandering the hallways during my patrol. ‘Again’”

He turned briefly, charcoal eyes flickering to Harry, who gulped nervously under the disappointed stare. “We were just about to discuss a detention, Headmaster.“

Samson, now a sparrow, shuffled on his shoulder. He ruffled his feathers, and whispered, “Oh great. Pickled slugs, here we come”

—————————————————————————————————

The following day in potions class found Harry trying his very best to avoid his teachers eye at all costs. He was still very embarrassed about being caught the night before, and with the promise of a nasty detention already hanging over his head- Harry was ready to be on his best behaviour, and save receiving a greater punishment than his previously threatened “two hours of cauldron scrubbing”.

Up until now staying in the professors good books was proving to be quite easy, seeing as the man had remained at his desk for the majority of the lesson, his head in his grading papers.

Although, Harry knew it was too good to be true, as this gave Draco Malfoy the perfect opportunity to mess with Harry and his friends.

It started off with a few eel eyes being pelleted at the back of his head, to which he tried to ignore- only occasionally turning round to shoot some nasty looks at the table behind him. Draco would only smirk, and wave mockingly at him when he did.

Samson sat under Harry’s table, by his humans feet, sheltering himself from the flying ingredients- he was currently in the form of a young red fox.

“Ignore him, mate” Ron muttered, picking a stray beetle that had been chucked at him out of his hair. Delila, Rons daemon, huddled under the table next to Samson. Ron grimaced apologetically at the little duck, as she preened her feathers, ridding them of the slimy concoction that had been thrown at her.

Harry did ignore it, even after a few stray ingredients started landing into his and Rons potion, no doubt reducing it to an un-gradable level.

The final straw was drawn however, when Malfoy’s polecat daemon Selene, crawled down from her perch on his shoulder and scurried under the table towards Harry’s daemon. Harry hadn’t realised what happened until after, when a flash of hot pain struck him in the chest, making him double over in his seat with a gasp.

Samson, still a fox, let loose a piercing yowl, as the polecat daemons teeth sunk into his tail. He jumped, and both hurt and extremely agitated- began to shift at once. All eyes swivelled round to stare on at the source of the sudden commotion.

Harry watched in horror, hugging his chest, trying to ebb the pain he felt from their bond-as Samson transformed at a multitude pace before everyone’s eyes. “No, no stop. Samson, please stop!” He whispered desperately.

Samson, amidst his anxiety, took on shapes that weren’t humanely recognisable- morphing into what closely resembled a cat-rabbit, a frog-bird, and even a pig-dog. All the while, Malfoy and his friends pointed and laughed.

The poor little daemon was unable to stop, and only grew worse when the laughing became louder- many of the other students in the class having joined in, pointing and giggling behind their hands.

“Look at it!” Malfoy howled to his fellow Slytherins. “What a joke”

Harry, mortified and close to tears, quickly scooped Samson up in his arms. Wasting no time, Harry fled the classroom, only Just managing to hear Professor Snape’s booming voice tell the class to “be silent” as he stormed down the corridor and out of sight- Samson mumbling “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” the entire way.

—————————————-———————————————————

Both Harry and his daemon were still in a very sour mood by the time evening rolled around, and his detention was due in ten minutes.

“Don’t go” Ron had said, to which Hermione replied “don’t be silly Ron, he ‘has’ to go”

They were sat in the common room, it was nearing eight o’clock. Many students had filed out for the night, intent on returning to their dormitories to get ready for bed or finish off homework in peace.

Samson, a small mouse, was swaddled under Harry’s button shirt- little head poking up out of the collar. Delila, now a floppy-eared rabbit, was resting against Rons side, her ears being methodologically stroked by her human. Hermiones own daemon, Romar, lay in the girls lap, his furred belly being rubbed comfortingly by the girl.

“Harry went out after curfew” She continued, throwing Harry one of her ‘I’m-very-disappointed-in-you’ looks, “He has to make up for that, even if his detention is with professor Snape”

Ron sighed, and glanced to Harry, who was looking rather dejected. He sighed, “what time does it start?”

“Eight” was Harry’s mumbled reply.

Hermione gave him an apologetic look, “you better head off then. It’ll take you a good few minutes to get down to the dungeons. You wouldn’t want to be late”

He really wouldn’t. He knew first hand just how Snape could be when a student was late for something. He’d make him pickle and peel and dissect the most disgusting Potions ingredients till his hands fell off.

He stood, Samson almost falling out of his shirt, and bid his friends a gloomy farewell, before exiting the common room.

The two Gryffindors watched, worriedly, as he went.

—————————————————————————————————

“Enter”

Harry pushed open the door, and entered the potions classroom with a shuffle of his shoes. The door closed shut behind him with a soft thud, and his fate was sealed for the night. A long line of jars lay out on the table at the front of the classroom, each filled To the brim with gruesome looking ingredients.

Harry grimaced at the sight.

The potions master was sat at his desk, quill scratching away at parchment- paying the boy very little attention. “You’re late, Mr potter” he said, but it wasn’t in a cruel way, just matter of fact.

Harry ‘was’ indeed late, by all of ‘four’ minutes.

Samson wriggled free of the boy’s shirt, leaping and transforming into a small white pine marten and worming his way over to Jana, were she sat still and calm as the wriggly little daemon bounced and skittered around her.

Harry muttered a small “sorry”, but both occupants knew that his words held very little sincerity.

Snape stood, making his way towards the table of ingredients. Jana followed, lazily pushing Harry’s daemon out of the way with a large padded paw.

Wordlessly, the Professor lit a cauldron sitting on the table, turning the heat low so it simmered rather than bubbled.

“You’ll be helping me prepare ingredients for a Potion I need to brew” he said, finally glancing up at the boy. His eyes flickered over him, then his daemon, before resting back on him again. Harry stayed rooted to the spot, unaware of what else to do. He gave his professor a strange look, ‘he wants “me” to help him with a potion?’.

As if reading the boy’s thoughts, Snape said “emphasis on the world ‘prepare’, Mr Potter. I won’t have you anywhere near this cauldron”

Harry, unfazed by the cruel jab to his potion making skills, shrugged. “okay”.

The potions master continued to watch him for another long moment, and Harry frowned quizzically when the man raised a brow at him. ‘What?’

Snape sighed, “I haven’t got all evening, Potter”

Oh.

Harry snapped into motion, scurrying to the desk and sweeping round till he was standing on the same side of the table as his teacher. Samson loyally followed.

Snape handed him the pestle and mortar, before pointing to the asphodel roots. “Grind them for me” He said, before focusing on slicing his own ingredients.

They worked in silence, thought it wasn’t necessarily an uncomfortable one. Except for when the man kept sneaking glances at Harry, and more specifically, Harry’s daemon- who had now shifted into a small corn snake, coiling around Harry’s ankle.

‘Self- hatred is a very cruel thing, Mr potter’

“What did you mean by that?” Harry asked, when he caught his professor staring down at Samson for the eighth time. Yes, he’d been counting.

The mans eyes flickered up to rest on him, brows drawing together, “I beg your pardon?”

“Last night” Harry’s said, suddenly breathless. He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. “You mentioned something about self hatred. What exactly did you mean, Professor?”

Harry watched with bated breath as the man eyed him slowly, before flickering his gaze to Jana- where they, yet again, had another silent conversation. After a long moment, his teacher put his tools down on the table, before turning and giving him his one-hundred percent attention. ‘Uh oh’ Harry thought, licking his chapping lips, ‘This can’t be good’.

“Mr Potter” he said, “last night you mentioned, rather hysterically, that your daemon is ...unusual’?”

Harry frowned, brows drawing close in confusion. He glanced down briefly at his snake-clad ankle, and watched as Samson’s little pink tongue flicked out to lick at the revealed skin were his pant leg couldn’t reach.

“Yes?” He said, eyes moving back up to his teacher.

“Be honest with me, Mr Potter” his professor said, leaning down so that they were eye-to-eye;

“Do you think your daemon is broken?”

Harry gasped lightly, and felt Samson coil even tighter around his leg.

“Harry” Samson whispered, urgently. The boy ignored him, focusing solely on his teacher. “Harry”, the boy’s eyes flooded with tears at the desperation in his daemons little voice.

He nodded. “Yes”

His professor straightened up, made a small “hmm” noise, and returned to his chopping. Harry, rather slowly, followed suit.

‘What?’ He thought, giving his teacher a sideways look, still not glancing down at his daemon- who had shifted into a capuchin- tugging at his pant leg with a small, hairy hand. ‘Is that it?’

Aware that his eyes were still wet with unshed tears, Harry furiously swiped at his face with the back of his sleeve.

Quite Suddenly, the man spoke, “There is nothing wrong with your daemon, Mr Potter”

Harry, startled and overcome with a sudden relief at his teachers words, paused his root-crushing to look deeply into the professors face- which held no indication that he was lying to him. After all, the Professor never lied. Never to him, at least.

“The problem is not with your daemon-” he continued, aware that Harry had stopped his work. He tapped the table with his pointer finger, snapping the boy back to work. He waited for Harry to continue his root-crushing.

-the problem is ‘you’”

The mortar fell from the table, and hit the floor with a resounding clatter. Root-powder spilled from the bowl, and scattered at the boy’s feet.

“Now really, Potter, are you that incompetent that you cant hold the equipment properly?” His professor scolded, crouching to pick up the dropped bowl, but the words were too far away for Harry to hear. His head was overcome with a sudden buzzing sensation, and his ears fogged up. He saw red.

“Excuse me?!”

Snape paused, mid-crouch, and held his breath. He looked up a the boy, whose face was now stormy and pinched.

He pushed the empty little bowl into the boy’s hands, who unconsciously took it, and said, voice low as a whisper “You have a very poor relationship with yourself, Mr Potter”

Harry’s mouth fell open, lips forming an “o” shape. “I do not!” He shouted, brows creased together in anger, and pain.

Denial.

“It is true, Potter-” the man said, reaching out tentatively to grab the boy’s shoulders. Harry, instinctively reared back away from him, stepping on his daemons foot in the process. Samson gave a short squeak of pain, and Snape watched the boy’s face crinkle, before he dismissed his own pain in favour of being angry. He didn’t dare look at his daemon, who was still whimpering and clutching his little toes.

“No it’s not! You don’t understand! You don’t know anything about us!” The boy said frantically, voice getting louder and more hysterical as he backed himself further away from the man- and even Samson.

The man scoffed, “I understand a lot more than you think, Potter. Your angry; at your daemon, and inevitably, at yourself” his head tilted, observing the first year as delicately as he could without making him even more unsettled.

“Your self loathing is so strong that you would go to lengths to try and avoid your ‘own soul’”

“I don’t avoid him” the boy cried, stopping and standing his ground. Suddenly he was defiant, trying to prove something to the man. Of course, Snape could see right through him. “That’s ‘physically’ impossible”

“Look at yourself, Potter” The Professor said, “Just look at the way you interact with your daemon”

The little daemon in question was hidden behind one of the table legs, shaking- body glitching into multiple animal forms at once. He refused to look anywhere else but at his human. He only had eyes for Harry.

Harry looked at his daemon as if he were seeing him for the first time. A few stray tears tumbled out the corner of his eyes, he didn’t bother to brush them away this time.

“Have you ever gave him any comfort?” Snape urged, watching the boy’s face crumble and tears roll down his cheeks, feeling no satisfaction in having caused them. “Hugged him? Told him you loved him?”

Harrys faltered, before his face fell into a deep scowl, and he turned back to the potions master. “I haven’t seen you give your daemon any ‘comfort’” he snapped, defensive.

“Exactly” the man said, voice unimaginable soft “Why would you want to be like me?”

He saw the boy waver, noticed his chest hitch, and his eyes grow unbelievably wide. He blinked, more tears falling free from his lashes. “What?”

“I understand, Potter” Snape sighed, glancing to Jana, who nodded her large head at him. “We both do”

“You’ve carried a great burden, one that has grown so large, that is has created a deep affect on your soul” he still held eyes with Jana, her big amber eyes boring into him. He held his breath, “That, is why you daemon is the way he is”

Harry was openly crying by now, looking down at Samson with large, pitiful green eyes. He sniffed.

“At the end of the day, This is nothing to do with Samson, or forgiving him for his mistakes. It’s to do with forgiving yourself”

Harry fell to his knees, and with a small, pitiful cry, opened his arms for his daemon. Samson wasted no time in leaping at his human, burying himself into Harry’s chest as the gryffindor hugged him tight- both of them sobbing freely. The little daemon shook from the ferocity of his sporadic shifting- Harry held him together.

Snape knelt by the boy and his daemon, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. He was taken aback when Harry suddenly sprung at him, burrowing into his robes. Harry was shaking, practically vibrated with the force of his wracking sobs.

“There really is something wrong with me, isn’t there?” Snape was able to make out from the boy’s blubbering- He was buried so far into his chest, that his words came out muffled.

Harry felt arms slowly wind their way around his shaking shoulders, stilling them- a strong foundation against both his and his daemons violent tremors.

“No” the man said, voice strong and steady. “You are not ‘wrong’, Harry;

This is just the shape of your soul”