The weather warmed, making their morning runs a lot more pleasant. By breakfast time, though, Harry wanted nothing more than to eat the way Ron usually did.

They piled onto the benches in the Great Hall after quick showers, their hair still damp. Despite the quick grooming, Penelope seemed to think he looked fine. Her considerate expression startled him when his eyes met hers, and reminded him that he needed to manage to talk to her alone, which was blasted difficult when he needed escorting everywhere.

When the food appeared, he and Ron actually battled over the spoon for the eggs.

“Go on then,” Harry said, giving it up.

Ron immediately served Harry a large pile of scramble with a grin.

“Better this morning?” Hermione asked.

“Yep,” Harry assured her. Neville had insisted the first two weeks were the worst before it got much easier. “Not too bad today. Although I’m still ready to go back to bed.”

Harry glanced around the Hall as he usually did at breakfast, looking at who was paying him special attention. Greer was, as usual. They had not caught Harry’s attacker and in his more annoyed moments, Harry wondered if it wasn’t her. McGonagall seemed to think it was someone inside the castle due to the protective spells. Harry didn’t quite have that much faith in the castle’s spells. McGonagall definitely had not liked his suggesting the Potions professor, so he had not repeated that suggestion. Given the way the points were going—they were now seventy behind Slytherin—he hoped it was her, and that she tried it again.

Pig dropped a letter before Ron, who flipped it open and read it with a worried expression. His face brightened halfway through. “Dad got a promotion,” he said happily.

“That’s great,” Hermione said at about the same time Harry did.

He read more of the letter. “He’s now Assistant Department Head. Mum says it’s a nice rise and it can’t possibly be any more hours.” Ron looked up and down the table, then looked confused. “Wonder where Ginny is,” he said.

Harry’s chest froze and melted then froze again. He looked up and scanned the birds circling overhead. He listened to Hermione say, “I think he’ll like working for Amelia Bones.”

There were too many birds to track easily what kind all of them were. Maybe she was just finishing an assignment at the last moment, Harry considered, when he didn’t see any unusual species coasting overhead.

Harry had just given up and returned to his eggs when a whip-like sound and screech came from the front of the Hall. The whole hall quieted and everyone turned. Professor Snape had a large bird in a net. It fluttered on the head table futilely, knocking everything about.

“Shit,” Harry breathed and immediately stood and strode toward the front. Before he could reach the head table, the fluttering abruptly ceased and Ginny, tangled in a net, was sprawled over the white linen and plates.

“Ms. Weasley,” Snape greeted her darkly.

“Gracious!” McGonagall said.

Some of the other teachers stood up to better peer down the long table. Gasps and giggling sounded from the around the Hall.

Ginny was just managing to stand when Harry reached her.

“I said no flying,” Harry snapped angrily.

“Who are you, my mother?” she snarled back, her eyes darting to Ron and Hermione who had come up behind Harry.

“Everything that happens is my responsibility, or didn’t you consider that?” he came right back.

“Hm,” McGonagall murmured. With forced politeness, she addressed Harry. “Mr. Potter, just how many Animagi do we have?”

Harry stalled to think, surprised at how quickly she had put that together. “Seven,” he reluctantly replied.

Her brows went up rather high. She stood and leaned over the table to address the Hall. “May I have your attention. I want all Animagi to line up here before the head table, please.”

The avid whispering around the Hall, which had paused for the announcement, restarted fiercely. Students stood and came to the front, including three Slytherins. Harry looked over the two beside Suze in surprise.

“This is a few more than seven,” McGonagall observed dryly.

“Not all of them are ours, Professor,” Harry explained.

“Well, let’s see them,” she commanded. “Ms. Weasley, we know yours, obviously. Mr. Weasley?”

Blushing, but also looking a bit like he had been given a rare chance to show off, Ron stepped forward and closed his eyes. Long seconds he stood there before an Irish setter morphed into his place. It blinked up at the headmistress with its large eyes. The buzzing conversations of the Hall surged and Harry glanced around at the wide-eyed gazes of the rest of the students.

“Not surprising somehow, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall opined as Ron changed back, still mid-blush. “Ms. Granger…” she said next.

Hermione changed where she stood into a brown otter that slithered around in a circle once before transforming back.

“Fine. Mr. Longbottom?” She sounded surprised, although as well like she did not want to sound so.

Neville looked down at the floor before changing into a lion. The whole school oohed at this and more students stood up on the benches to see better. Neville’s tail swished back and forth.

“Very nice, Mr. Longbottom,” McGonagall said in shock.

Neville, when he changed back, blushed as well and scuffed his feet as he stepped back.

“Mr. Thomas, can you top that?” the headmistress asked. She had completely lost her scorning tone and now sounded as though she might be enjoying herself.

“I can try, ma’am.” He changed into a moor pony.

“I’d say that equals it, at least,” she said as she half stood up to look him over better.

“Mr. Pullman,” she prompted the Hufflepuff Chaser, who had to scrunch his eyes up in deep concentration before turning into a billy goat.

“Mr. Potter?”

Harry shook his head. At her questioning expression, he explained, “I can’t do it.”

She appeared disappointed, making him drop his gaze. “Mr. Peranna?” she prompted the next student.

The tallest of the Slytherins changed into a raven and immediately back. “I’m registered, ma’am,” he stated in a very deep voice.

“So am I,” Ginny interjected. At their surprised looks, she said, “Dad took me into the Ministry over holiday to file for it. I just don’t have my card yet,” she added less assertively.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ron demanded.

“Why didn’t you ask Dad?” she retorted.

Ron looked as though that had not even occurred to him.

“Ms. Parkinson?” McGonagall prompted, ending their arguing.

Pansy sighed and transformed. At first it seemed that she had disappeared, but they all looked at the floor where a long red centipede slithered between the stones. Many students along the house tables shuffled to try to see as well. Pansy reappeared a blink later.

“And the youngest by far…Ms. Zepher,” McGonagall prompted, sounding pleased.

Snape as well, studied her intently. She changed into a white mink that stood on its hind legs and observed them.

“Nicely done,” the headmistress said, then added, “Although, if you can manage that, there are no spells in my class that are beyond you.”

Suze changed back, shyly looking at her feet.

In an official headmistress voice McGonagall said, “I expect you all to register and will provide you with the proper forms.” She turned to Harry, “And you, Mr. Potter. I will see you in my office. This instant.”

She stood and strode along behind the head table. Harry wandered to the end to meet her and followed her out. The whole school watched them depart, whispering fiercely.

Once in her office, Harry took the visitor’s chair she gestured at. She went to a shelf and took down the teapot. He watched her fill it with fresh leaves and heat the water with a dainty tap. She set out two cups and waited patiently with her aged, yet elegant hands clasped for it to steep. Eventually, she poured them each a cup and pushed one to Harry, who accepted it in confusion.

McGonagall sipped her tea with a faraway expression and said, “I think ten minutes will seem appropriately stern, don’t you?”

“Ma’am?”

“For your thorough chewing out. Ten minutes?”

“Uh, I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied carefully.

She smiled faintly. “There must not have been any injuries. Poppy has always watched for them.”

“There weren’t as far as I know,” Harry said.

“When did this begin?”

“A few weeks after Christmas,” Harry confessed, cradling the teacup in his hands to draw off its warmth.

“Seven. In that time?” she breathed, stunned.

Harry double-checked that in his mind. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, dropping his gaze.

“I do not know what to do with you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry hoped he had not gotten Snape into equal trouble. “Severus didn’t know,” he thought to insist, hoping it was not too late to sound believable.

When she remained silent, he raised his eyes to hers. Her expression looked strange, maybe even affectionate. He blinked in confusion.

She set her cup and saucer aside. “Unfortunately this school does not have a medal for students who inspire others to learn far beyond their year.”

“Are you saying I’m not in trouble?” he asked in disbelief.

Harry was tempted to point out that Hermione was actually the main instigator and organizer, but decided that still could seem to be blame passing. It bothered him to stay silent on this point, and he did so with difficulty. He would apologize to Hermione later for not giving her credit.

McGonagall stood and came around the desk. As she passed Harry, she put a firm hand down on his right shoulder. “To everyone else’s view, you are in most serious trouble. But in reality, you are not.” Harry’s shoulder relaxed under her sharp fingers. “But, I will have to take a hundred points from Gryffindor for it to be believable.”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned in pain.

“I will, however, reverse any other point changes Gertrude chooses to make for the remainder of the year.” She gave him a twinkling eye. “I expect that will more than balance out.”

Harry had to force down a wide grin. “I expect it will,” he said with happy expectation.

After the proper time had passed, Harry headed back down to the Great Hall. Ron had just returned from checking the gems used for House scoring. He looked downtrodden.

“We’ll manage, Ron. Don’t worry,” Harry insisted as he stepped over the bench and warmed his plate with a heating charm.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione said sincerely. Her eyes followed McGonagall as she strode to the front. When the headmistress returned to her breakfast, Hermione said, “You must have taken all the blame.”

Harry shrugged. “I could have stopped it so I have every right to it. Don’t worry about it.”

Harry was worried though. Snape was giving him a flinty glare. In the midst of all the new spell work and interesting discovery, Harry had somehow overlooked the potential to disappoint his parent.

Frina and Penelope looked a bit like they had been run over by something. Hermione reassured them repeatedly that everything was all right, that they had been in much worse trouble in the past. Harry wondered if they were feeling left out, rather than worried as Hermione assumed.

Breakfast ended. The plates cleared themselves and the students filed out. Harry waved off his friends and stepped to the front where Snape sat eyeing him with a shuttered expression. McGonagall had started to depart with the others, but returned upon seeing the two of them remaining behind. She clasped her hands before her and waited for the other staff to leave.

When their half of the hall had cleared, the headmistress said, “I think we are even with Mr. Potter—we failed him as well recently.” She patted Harry’s shoulder as she turned away. “Go easy on him, Severus. I did.”

Harry was grateful to see that Snape’s posture eased marginally at her comments.

“We have class right now. We will discuss this later,” Snape stated as he stood up.

“Yes, sir,” Harry agreed.

After a long day of classes, during which many students came up and congratulated him and his friends and only a few complained about the points, Harry trudged to the Defense office escorted by Ron, Hermione, Frina, and Penelope. The four of them stood behind Harry with almost comic formality as the office door opened.

Snape took in the scene before gesturing that Harry should enter. At the last instant, as the door was re-closing, Penelope stepped forward and halted it with her foot.

Before she could speak, and it looked to be something deeply felt, Snape cut her off by saying, “Your forthrightness is admirable, Ms. Tideweather, but misplaced.”

Harry said, “It’s all right, Peni. Really. I’m okay with this.” As he stepped in, he waved them away with an expression that made it clear they were overreacting.

The door closed. Snape returned to his chair and steepled his fingers before him.

“Peni?” Snape echoed.

“What?” Harry retorted defensively as he stood before the desk. “She thinks you were in with Karkaroff, of course she’s worried.”

Snape looked like he was resisting a retort he might regret. He clasped his hands tightly. “Minerva was ridiculously lenient with you,” he stated darkly, making Harry swallow hard.

“I hadn’t thought until after that I might get you in trouble,” Harry said. “I certainly didn’t intend to do that. Is that what’s bothering you?”

His guardian’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Partially,” he admitted. “Your flaunting of the rules has always bothered me.”

Harry frowned and took the visitor’s chair by dropping into it. He glanced at the many fancy scrolls now filling a deep shelf off to the left. “Did you actually find the rule that we were breaking?” he asked, taking a chance.

Snape looked slightly taken aback. His focus went distant as he considered the question. “There is a general rule against students working on dangerous spells without supervision. I expect that would apply.”

“It wasn’t dangerous. No one got hurt. By that definition, my walking down a corridor alone violates the rules.”

Snape rubbed his forehead hard with his fingertips. “Why did you not ask for supervision? It would have been provided.”

“It wouldn’t have been the same,” Harry said.

“It would not have been following in the footsteps of the Marauders, you mean?” Snape challenged him fiercely.

Forcefully, because Snape had caught him off guard with this interpretation, Harry retorted, “It had nothing to do with that!” He leaned forward, hands propped on the arms of the chair, furious. “Don’t you dare believe that,” he added.

“So what was the purpose?” Snape sneered.

Harry breathed in and out to calm himself. “Thirty bonus points on the N.E.W.T.” he replied. “And I don’t mean to sound obnoxious, but there wasn’t much else left to work on.” Still angry, Harry stated darkly, “Not many footsteps to follow, given that they’re nearly all dead.” When Snape didn’t comment, Harry went on, a spike of desperation driving his words. “Why would you even think that, or better yet, think it had anything to do with you?”

Snape still did not respond, although his expression lost some of its flatness.

Harry swore under his breath. “We ran out of things to do and it sounded interesting. That was it. I’ve been working on it for the points, but it isn’t as though I’ve managed to get anywhere with it…it is Transfiguration after all.”

“You truly have not mastered the spell?” Snape asked.

“NO,” Harry nearly shouted. “So I’ll get an ‘A’ on my N.E.W.T.s. Happy?”

Snape sat back. “I do not, in the least, wish you to obtain a subpar score on your examinations.” He frowned deeply. “Perhaps I am overreacting. And as Minerva said, we have failed to protect you in turn.”

“I don’t see the connection. But I’ll take it,” Harry said. “I really don’t intend to make you angry.”

Snape exhaled loudly. “Any other rules you are despicably flaunting at the moment?” When Harry shook his head, Snape challenged him. “None? You have not broken a single other rule this year?”

“Uh, I opened Malfoy’s wombat crate because I was worried about how it was faring. But Hagrid already rebuked me for that. I’d told him I was worried about what it was turning into,” he explained. “Uh…” Harry thought more. At Snape’s expectant expression, Harry quickly said, “I let Malfoy talk me into a duel. But I think I won, so I didn’t bother mentioning it. I think that’s why he was so tough during class the other day…he was trying to get even.” Harry eventually shook his head. “I can’t think of anything else.”

Snape rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Boring year then rather.”

“Not really,” Harry insisted. More lightly, he said, “Someone is trying to kill me. That makes it feel normal.”

Snape’s hair fell into his face as his head lowered. “I do apologize for not finding out who it is.” He stood and came around the desk, face still curtained. “I expected it only would require an interview or two with a few of my students to discover it. But surprisingly, no one knows anything whether they are willing to speak of it or not.”

Harry, not really comfortable with Legilimency being used like that on his behalf, fidgeted with his feet.

“Well, continue to not go about alone,” Snape said in a dismissive voice. As Harry stood, he added, “And please, no more severe rules violations.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. He thought of pointing out how little time there was left to make that much trouble, but decided against it.

During Quidditch practice, Harry hovered, waiting, while Ron re-diagramed a play he wanted the Chasers to practice that involved three cross-overs and one feinted retreat to draw the Bludgers into an early attack. Harry and the Beaters were pretending to be opponents, but at the moment they weren’t doing anything.

Normally, Harry would not have minded hanging out in midair on a broom on a nice day, but today, for the very first time ever, he thought maybe he should be revising instead. Realizing he was thinking this made him rub his head, hard.

Harry flew a lap on his broomstick to distract himself while Ron and Ginny debated what altitude the play should begin at, but he could not shake the vague angst that he would be better off right that moment with a book open in front of him, or his notes. He needed to write up quiz sheets for their revising for an Astronomy examination two days away. He needed to take a look at the bookmarked sections of the supplemental texts for the Potions N.E.W.T. He needed— Harry sloth rolled and hung upside down to distract himself further.

From his upside-down viewpoint, he noticed the Durmstrang students sitting in the stands, books open in front of them. Other students were here and there on the benches, talking or reading. With his hand Harry tweaked the broom handle and turned himself to better look at the visitors. Penelope sat bent over a small book, her dark hair shining in the sunlight. The angle of her shoulder was kind of pleasing, he thought idly.

“Bored?” Ron asked from where he and Ginny hovered. When Harry rotated upright and shrugged, Ron said, “Well, let’s run it again, before Harry decides to try flying without his broom.”

Harry positioned himself with Sloper and Carren on either side and prepared to make appropriate defensive maneuvers when the Chasers came dodging down the pitch. When Ginny came at him he swerved away slightly before aiming back at her, smooth on his old familiar broom and feeling aggressively strong from his head to his toes, which he attributed to running since nothing else could account for it.

The certainty of his movements made her pass the Quaffle off earlier than Hickory was expecting it and the other Chaser had to dive to get it even though it was a rising play.

“Sorry, let’s do that again,” she said in a disgusted tone. She sped around to her fellow Chaser to pick up the Quaffle and return to the starting position. The others reset without comment. Ginny gave Harry a narrow, challenging look before she said, “Go.”

Harry repeated the same thing and this time she held her course despite his cutting her off. In the end Harry dodged away to avoid the foul, and their robes brushed at high-speed. Harry turned and gave Chase as Ginny passed the Quaffle upward as Hickory rotated around. Sloper swung between them aiming his broom straight at the center post. Hickory threw the Quaffle hard to him, which he ducked rather than caught. Ginny caught it instead, flying beyond him and tossed it through the left-hand goal.

Ron cheered from his position as opposition keeper. “All right! Let’s repeat it with a Bludger in play.”

Harry rode the turning stone staircase for his next tutoring session with some unease, a little worried McGonagall would change her mind about how much trouble he was in. He stepped into the office at her invitation and took the overstuffed chair already facing the desk. As he unpacked his book bag, she came around and held out a book.

“I’ve already read that one,” Harry said upon reading the title Animagical. He placed his other books on the edge of the desk.

She withdrew it and turned it around to flip through it. “Have you tried a Canarevelatio?” she asked.

Harry set down the quill he had just taken out for note taking. It sounded suspiciously as though she were trying to help him become an Animagus. This possibility had not occurred to him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She considered him in silence. “And it didn’t work? You should be able to predict your form, in any event, I’d expect.”

Feeling reluctant now, Harry replied, “No, the form revelation did work.”

A little befuddled, she said, “That is half the difficulty of the Animagia. Have you been working on the various energies? This book does a rather remarkable job of explaining them all.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“A stag is a grazer. They are usually easier to attain. Unlike Mr. Longbottom’s rather predatorial hunter.”

“What’s that?” Harry blurted. He had not known there was a difference.

“Prey forms are easier to attain than predator. I expect your stag form is easier than you realize. As your godfather used to tell it, it took him much longer to work out the Animagia energies and your father never let Sirius live down how slow he was in achieving his form.

Harry shook his head. “It’s not a stag…I don’t know what it is.” His father had been prey, he thought with a queer, cold shiver.

Her brow furrowed. She put the book down on the desk and rested her hand beside it. “Let’s see the Canarevelatio.”

Harry reached for an excuse. “Are you sure you want to cover this instead of last week’s class session?”

“It is worth thirty points on the N.E.W.T., as I’m certain you are aware. It would most certainly push you well over the mark you need. Go on.”

Harry pulled off his shoe and sock. After a deep breath he incanted the spell. On the first try the same bright paw appeared. With a sudden movement, McGonagall leaned in close and reached for it. Harry tried to pull away, but she was faster.

“Hold still,” she said distractedly.

Harry had to bite his lower lip to keep from jerking his foot away again. The nerves on his paw were in their own arrangement and her touch felt slippery and prickly. She pressed on his toe, causing a vicious long black claw to protrude. Harry was gaping at it when his foot changed back.

She stood straight, deep in thought. “It would make sense, actually, for you to be something predatorial, Harry. No offense.”

“What is it?” Harry breathed.

She considered him in silence. “You are very uncomfortable with your form, aren’t you?”

“I don’t even know what it is,“ he pointed out defensively.

She crouched before him and put a hand on his bare human foot. “Harry,” she began soothingly, then stopped. “Repeat the spell one more time,” she said easily.

Harry sighed and obliged her just to get past this. She looked over the rough paw pads and pushed out each of four long claws. If Harry had seen claws like that on something in the Forbidden Forest, he would have run the other way.

“Not precisely a cat, but not a canine either,” she said in thought. “I don’t know quite what you are, Harry.” She continued to hold his foot again after it had normalized. Eventually, she said, “We all have the potential in us to become something unexpected. It doesn’t make us less ourselves. It doesn’t make us dangerous, unless we let it.” She stood then, with apparently stiff knees. “I’m not sure what you are uneasy about, exactly, but I expect that you of all people will not become something you despise, no matter how much power you may attain.”

He took in her words with a little confusion, but they were finding a hearing inside him somewhere. He felt calmer as he considered them.

McGonagall was speaking again. “Next time you can, go down to Hagrid and ask him what that is. He will most certainly know,” she said as she stepped back to her chair. “Now, where were we…?”

Harry was still thoughtful when he returned to the common room, escorted by Professor Sinistra who was doing her regular check of the school and her house anyway, and joined his friends working on various assignments.

“Is everything okay?” Penelope asked him. Everyone else looked up to see the answer to this.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Harry replied. “No worries,” he added with a small smile.

“Your headmistress is very nice,” Frina said.

Harry studied her. McGonagall must have questioned them, he realized. His eyes went to Hermione, who nodded with a wry smile.

“I told her not to bother,” Harry pointed out.

“She has to consider every possibility, Harry,” Hermione pointed out.

Harry flipped open one of his alternative Potions texts to look for more essay material about blood-based brewing techniques. “She hasn’t considered the right one yet, apparently.”