AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize for the delay, but as sometimes happens, this chapter changed as I wrote it and became something I hadn't even intended. This is the longest chapter to date. As such, please review and tell me what you think. A big "thank you" to Mike (aka Full Pensieve) who assisted me with Snape's characterization.
More Than Human
Chapter Six - Potions & Prats
After a brief detour to Gryffindor Tower to exchange books, Harry and Hermione reached the dark stone stairway leading to the dungeons. Because Harry had lagged while trying to convince Hermione to let him skive off, they were well behind their classmates. They could hear voices echoing from the classroom below, but no one else was in sight.
A soft mew from the shadows near the top of the staircase alerted Harry to Crookshanks' presence.
{Beware, fang brother.}
Hermione started to descend the stairs as Crookshanks' warning came, and for the first time, Harry paused, and deliberately used his newly-acquired feline senses. After a few experimental sniffs with a slight glance around, Harry located the presence of two people lurking just beyond sight, but not beyond the dark-haired Gryffindor's sense of smell. Nor were they beyond his hearing, as he was able to locate the stalkers Crookshanks' had warned of fairly easily by their heightened breathing as well. They were hidden no more than a few meters away.
Harry kept one ear cocked backward but maintained watch on Hermione as she continued down to the Potions classroom, oblivious to their peril. Harry heard scuttling behind him as he passed out of the attackers' line of sight. The hunters were on the move.
With augmented strength and speed, Harry caught Hermione in two quick bounds down the steps. He clapped a hand over her mouth from behind to stifle her surprised cry as he literally carried her into the dark space below the stairs.
Pressing her back into the corner against the steps, Harry put his face close to Hermione's in the semi-darkness and pressed a finger to his lips as his other hand remained across her mouth. Her eyes were wide in shock and confusion, but she didn't attempt to struggle. After a moment's hesitation, Hermione nodded her understanding and Harry withdrew his hand.
Harry's eyes dilated wide and his ears moved forward on his skull to cup the sounds of the two hooded, robed figures that were moving quickly down the stairs.
He moved slowly through the shadows, instinctively using the advantageous location to stalk. With his altered feet, his footfalls were silent. The ambushers were halfway down the stairs when they realized that their quarry were now out of sight. They abandoned any pretense at stealth, and dashed to the bottom of the steps.
Crookshanks' aggressive yowl came a moment before Harry sprang at the nearest assailant, who let out a rather girlish scream before falling backward onto the stair in a scramble to avoid Harry's charge.
Harry had had no intention of touching his target, as the scent emanating from the figures had warned him off of touching him. The smell was odd, musty green with a salty, sour tang, and it tickled his nostrils unpleasantly.
The second person was dealing with an irate Crookshanks, who took great exception to an attack upon his Mistress. The ginger tomcat had pounced upon and was clawing and scratching the second figure's left leg without mercy.
"Get this thing off me!" The shrill tones of Pansy Parkinson were unmistakable as she strove to free herself from the half-Kneazle's attack. Harry turned from that spectacle, secure in the knowledge that Crookshanks had things well in hand.
Harry's opponent finally managed to push back his tangled hood to reveal the thin, pale features of Theodore Nott. As Harry focused on him, Nott's face contorted in malicious anger and he threw the small glass orb he had extracted from his robes directly at Harry's head.
Harry's Seeker reflexes helped him to snatch the orb from mid-flight, and the heavy pads on his morphing hands proved useful as they allowed him to catch the fragile object without harm and then redirect it back at the Slytherins.
"Crookshanks, get out of there!" Harry snarled. The ginger tom dropped to the step and scrambled down the stairs before the orb smashed on the stone tread, releasing a cloud of dust to surround the two ambushers.
Pansy wailed as the dust touched her and then beat a hasty retreat back up the steps. Nott, lying prostrate on the stairs was not as fortunate and received a hefty dose of whatever compound had been contained in the orb.
Harry felt his ears flick back as he heard Hermione's light steps approaching. He stepped sideways to keep himself between Nott and his best friend, watching silently as the skin on Nott's face discolored and crusted over. The would-be ambusher whimpered and dragged himself back up the steps and out of sight as the two Gryffindors watched.
"What was that?" Harry wondered.
"Wartcap Powder." Hermione replied.
Harry turned to her and saw the intent look she was fixing on him. Crookshanks purred contentedly from his mistress' arms as Hermione scratched his head; very pleased with the attention he was receiving.
"Oh, right," He responded absently, feeling more than a little self-conscious as Hermione continued to stare. Whatever was the matter with her? "Er…Sorry about grabbing you like that, Hermione. I…"
Whatever else Harry might have said was interrupted by the arrival of Snape, who swept down the steps from the Main Hall and said witheringly, "The class is held inside the room, Mr. Potter. While I realize Mr. Potter may need to be reminded of that fact on a routine basis, Miss Granger, do you also need such a remedial instruction?"
Hermione dropped her familiar, who took the opportunity to run back up the stairs. Harry watched longingly as the cat disappeared from sight. Lucky bugger…
He strode past the two students, who hurried after to enter the classroom after their teacher. Harry felt his stomach sinking with anxiety, unable to shake the feeling that the Potions class was destined to be horrible.
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Harry stormed back into his special quarters later that same day and quickly sealed the door behind him with an angry shout and wave of his wand.
"Colloportus!"
He began to pace, his tail lashing back and forth agitatedly, along the far wall. He tossed his books onto the bed by the second pass, and his outer robes joined them on the third. Fury pounded in his temples, as he recalled the previous episode of torturous agony Snape had inflicted on him and the rest of the Potions class.
"I really should have known it would be bad when Snape was so…mild outside class." Harry thought in self-disgust.
He heard Hermione's voice, muffled by the tapestry speak the password for the door. As Harry continued to pace, he heard Hermione's not-so-polite epithet when she realized he had sealed the door against her and she was unable to cast a powerful enough counter spell to negate the lock.
"Harry! Open the door! Harry… please!" Hermione's voice rang with a clear note of worry as she knocked loudly, but Harry for once was unmoved by her request.
He went out into the enclosed courtyard to escape the increasingly louder pleas of his best friend. The events of the class and its aftermath still circled through Harry's mind; twin to the anxious pacing that his body seemed to demand in response to his thoughts.
The sun was setting slowly in the western skies as Harry tried to come to terms with his own deep-felt fear and uncertainty. Fear and uncertainty that stemmed from the events just past…
Potions class had not been the unmitigated disaster that Harry had anticipated at first, though starting out with Snape's rather abrupt change in the class curricula to the Potion of Defense had been the first clue that something was afoot.
Hermione had questioned that change, for which Snape docked her two house points for daring to question his prerogatives as teacher.
The Potion of Defense itself was a great topic to explore on it own merits, given the current unrest in the Wizarding World with Voldemort's return but it required some exceptional components to complete the brew.
A single thin potting table had stretched across the front of the room to the right of the chalkboard. Snape gave a single wave of his wand and the instructions for the potion had appeared.
The Potions Master had rapped out the instructions and Harry considered a great stroke of luck to get paired up with Hermione. Neville and Dean were stationed to their left at the same bench. Ron had quickly partnered Seamus and both had secured a location as far from Harry as possible and not be with the Slytherins. Hermione and Dean had set up the cauldrons while Harry and Neville went to collect the ingredients.
As all the students rushed about and concentrated on their assignment, Harry had felt an uneasy prickle along his nerves, but after a quick glance about, he could not attribute it to anything out of the ordinary. He had collected all but the final ingredient for the potion and returned to Hermione where she had proceeded to add and stir the mixture to reach the proper consistency and temperature for the final ingredient.
Snape had stationed himself at his desk and other than a few barks at the hapless students closest to him; the Slytherin had not prowled the aisles or hovered menacingly over the students' shoulders. Looking back now, Harry realized that should have been another clue…
"Harry, the potion's ready for the…" Hermione had paged back in her notes and then continued, "Olens mustellidae mephitis extract. The instructions say you have to harvest it fresh from the plant."
Harry had snatched up an empty vial and headed up to the plant bench to select a plant near the end of the table. With dense, long oval leaves that rose high and made a tight ring around the core of the plant, Harry had been unable to see exactly from where the extract should come. Glancing back to Hermione, who had been watching him intently as she stirred the cauldron; he caught her mouthed instruction, "The flowers."
The flowers? Harry had turned back to the plant and was about to poke around the tightly closed leaves, when his hand was seized and pulled away forcefully. Turning to see who had grabbed him, Harry had been shocked to find Neville gripping his hand and shaking his head forcefully.
"No, Harry! These are Greater North American Skunkweed plants. If you touch them like that, you'll get sprayed for sure."
Harry's confusion must have been clear to Neville, who had proceeded to show Harry how to duplicate the distinctive tapping of the Iron-nose beetle, the only insect that could pollinate the plant safely.
Harry had carefully emulated his fellow Gryffindor and was shocked when the central green leaves parted sharply and to reveal the large, furry looking black and white-striped flowers hidden in the center. The strange blooms had swayed back and forth with an almost menacing movement, and Harry had felt a powerful, instinctive aversion to even approaching them at all.
In a show of skill that was extremely unusual for Neville in Potions, soon both he and Harry had secured the small, resin coated balls from the base of the flowers and had headed back to their respective bench.
"Thanks, Neville. The potion instructions didn't tell us how to get that extract, did they?" Harry had asked, concerned he had missed a crucial direction in the procedure.
Neville frowned in bemusement, "You know, I don't think they did, Harry. I only knew because of a special project I did for Professor Sprout last term for extra credit in Herbology." He had brightened at that and Harry smiled back. Hermione had asked what had kept him and had been worried that the potion might not turn out right because of his delay.
She had added the little resin balls and the potion seethed for a moment, then settled and turned a lovely mint green shade. Harry had assisted her in bottling their sample for grading, and then walked to front of the class to hand Snape the vial, which the professor accepted with a malevolent glance, but had refrained from saying anything. Now in hindsight, yet another clue…
Harry had hurried back to the table, noticing some of the other students were now approaching the plants to get their extracts. Dean and Neville had passed the word through to the other Gryffindors how to get the extract correctly, but the Slytherins in the class had either not overheard or watched carefully enough when Harry and Neville had gotten their samples.
Millicent had made the error of poking her plant, which had responded viciously with a fine, atomized spray. The wave of laughter at her mistake did not last more than a moment once the smell permeated the room, driving most of the class to whip out their wands and cast the Bubble-head Charm to stave off the god-awful stench. Harry had found much to his consternation that the charm was one that he could not effectively enunciate, as he had gasped desperately against the smell that was, to him, blinding in its intensity.
Hermione, after casting her own charm, had turned to cast the charm for Harry, who by this point was bent over wheezing and gasping, eyes watering profusely.
"No casting of magic in my class, Miss Granger!" Snape's harsh voice had stopped the girl in mid-cast.
"But, professor, the smell is hurting Harry!" Hermione's voice had reflected shocked outrage at Snape's command.
"5 points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for your cheek in questioning my instructions." Snape had rapped out. Hermione had turned back to Harry, who had been blinking furiously to clear his eyes to focus on her and the Potions Master. Harry had seen in her eyes that she had intended to rebel against Snape's edict. Harry had shaken his head to stop her from tempting Snape's wrath and losing Gryffindor any more House points.
Harry had used his anger at Snape's obvious perfidy in setting up this particular lesson for the off-chance to humiliate him to force his frame upright and to control his breathing as much as possible. His female friend had looked stricken at being unable to help him, and Harry had tried to reassure her with a small smile.
During the last quarter hour of the class, Harry had learned that his new form did not allow for him to become accustomed to the smell, and as time passed, it seemed to intensify his sensitivity to the point of actual pain.
As a last act of rubbing salt into Harry's wounds, Snape had called both he and Hermione to verify that the potion vial was correctly marked so that Harry had been treated to an additional 5 minutes of the odiferous agony.
The entire class time was overshadowed by those final minutes in his memory. Harry had successfully passed an advanced Potion class with an excellent mark, but he could not take any joy from it; yet another blow delivered by Snape.
Rage boiled over then and Harry literally saw red. Insufferable bastard! His animal instincts drove him around in circles in the courtyard, his humanity fading back as the beast took control and expressed its sympathy with his dark emotions.
After some time passed, Harry pulled himself out of the submergence with effort. The basic instincts were soothing in their simplicity; promising him a seductive form of peace that Harry had never truly experienced before in his life. The ease that he felt with the dark and dim impulses running through him was what finally shocked Harry back into control.
Blinking in sudden awareness, he cringed back as the battered trunk of the ash tree in front of him came into focus. His claws had savaged the trunk down to the heartwood, and his rage-induced strength had cracked it like a toothpick. The last leaves of fall clung to the crown of the tree which now swept the still-green grass.
Glancing around at the rest of the courtyard, Harry let out a sob. A path of destruction marked almost every point in the enclosed garden. A destruction that Harry had wrought while lost in his anger and now-increasingly apparent animal nature.
Harry slumped down against the outer courtyard wall with his hands held his face as if to contain his horror. Neither Voldemort, nor Snape, or anyone else in Harry's life was responsible for this situation. He, and only he, was responsible.
What if Hermione had gotten in here? Harry thought with a wave of self-loathing and nausea. What would have happened to her? I could have…killed her… Harry rolled to the left and vomited violently. Feral…
He shivered in reaction, gasping for breath as his imagination drew garish, macabre images of what could have happened during his loss of control. As Harry examined the shattered pieces of his self-conceit, one thought came crashing into his consciousness.
It must never happen again…
Harry stood back up shakily and heard Hermione's knocking on the chamber door stop. He slowly walked back into the chamber, his thoughts returning to the events after Potions class that had so upset him…
Ron had been waiting just beyond the door to the potions classroom; his cheeks flushed red as his ears, sure indicators that his temper was up. Harry, his patience frayed from the horrid Potions class just past, simply scowled darkly at his recalcitrant friend and pushed past him. Hermione, just behind Harry, was not able to duck past Ron who had reached out to grab her arm and hold her back.
""Leave off, Ron!" she spat angrily, pulling her arm free brusquely.
"Why won't you listen to me for once, Hermione?" Ron shot back.
Harry turned back at that and raised a questioning eyebrow, Ron seemed almost, well, frankly, driven to convince Hermione of her danger in being around Harry. It was a strange situation, that Ron would be so adamant about Harry being so dangerous when Ron was wizard born and should be used to the idea of Animagi.
Hermione seemed to come to a similar thought and asked angrily, "What is the real problem, Ron?"
Caught off guard, Ron stuttered for a moment before his expression hardened and he muttered, "Why won't you trust me on this?"
Hermione's eyebrows rose sharply and she opened to mouth to respond, but before she could Harry had moved in front her to confront Ron.
"What is the problem, Ron? Why won't you talk to me?" Harry demanded.
Ron backed away a step and seemed anxious to avoid Harry's eyes. As the silence stretched longer, Harry growled in exasperation then shouted. "You bloody prat! Just tell us!"
Malfoy's snide voice chipped in. "What? Are you jealous again, Weasel?
Ron sent a seething glance at Draco, but remained silent. Harry paid the Slytherin no attention at all, focusing instead on his red-headed friend's body language and facial expression. Something was off, but what that something was…
"Or perhaps Weasel can't stand the fact that your filthy mudblood prefers to shag a twisted half-creature like you rather than his poor, but pureblooded arse, Scarhead." Malfoy's voice was sharp with sarcastic amusement.
The two Gryffindors had been so focused on their own confrontation that the crude remark took a moment to sink in, but the sharp crack of Hermione's hand across Malfoy's face jarred them into turning around to watch Draco retaliate by backhanding their female friend across her cheek and knocking her to the floor.
Outrage surged through Harry, adrenaline lending speed and power to his movements as he sprung toward Malfoy. He could feel Ron moving in unison behind him, their dispute overshadowed by Malfoy's unpardonable action towards Hermione.
Crabbe intercepted Ron and Harry heard the scuffle as the two pushed and shoved dimly, his heartbeat was growing faster and louder in his ears, drowning out extraneous noises. His vision narrowed to only his prey, Malfoy.
A hulking form loomed into his view, blocking his way to Malfoy and sending Harry's rage higher. Such a direct challenge was not to be tolerated! He grabbed the upper arms of the individual and simply swung him out of his way before continuing towards his prey. The resulting crunch of flesh and bone against the wall and the choked off exclamation of pain never registered in his consciousness as Harry continued to toward his foul mouthed blond target.
For Malfoy's part, he seemed paralyzed at Harry's charge, his eyes wide and mouth agape. He recognized that he should do something about his imminent danger just a few moments too late. Harry caught the back of Malfoy's robes as the Slytherin turned to retreat and used his forward momentum to swing both of them around and place Malfoy up against the corridor wall with one broad paw-hand completely encompassing Malfoy's throat to pin him.
Malfoy squirmed against the hold, but Harry's grip was firm. The dark Gryffindor leaned into his enemy's face and bared his fangs as he snarled ferociously. The loud scraping of his claws against the stone wall resonated in the cold hallway.
Harry heard the desperate tones in Hermione's voice but her words were drowned out in the cacophony of the other students' voices. Malfoy's mouth opened and closed but made no sound. The strident tones of Snape's voice cut through the haze in Harry's brain and sent a chill down his spine. "I could have….I wanted to…kill Malfoy," he thought, stricken.
A sudden sharp smell of urine caused Harry to flinch back and then glance down to where a dark patch on Malfoy's robes betrayed what had just occurred. Looking up into Malfoy's eyes, Harry was shaken to see a real despair and anguish behind the fear.
Snape's scalding tones drew closer, as he ploughed through a knot of by-standing students. "Twenty-five points from Gryffindor, Weasley. You will stop plunging Mr. Crabbe's head against the wall at once!"
Harry drew back from Malfoy, still careful to keep his opponent on the edge of his vision. Snape's approaching footsteps were like chimes of doom. For his part, Malfoy appeared as though he was hearing identical chimes.
Snape stopped before Goyle's crumpled form. "What has happened here? Someone will explain now," he seethed. He surveyed the crowd standing in the hallway imperiously, and his eyes locked in on Harry and Malfoy.
"Potter… of course," sneered Snape. His pleasure at the prospect of having caught Harry out of bounds oozed from his voice palpably as he strode forward to confront the Gryffindor.
He stopped before Malfoy, took note of his charge's robes, and glowered. "Mr. Malfoy, surely there are more pressing matters that require your attention?" he suggested casually. Malfoy scrambled away without meeting Snape's eyes. The band of spectating Slytherins began to yelp over one another, dispensing the usual accusations, but their Head of House cut them off sharply.
"Baddock, you will move Mr. Goyle to the Hospital Wing," Snape ordered, "or shall I send for a second-year to assist you?" The Slytherins surrounded the unconscious Goyle, levitated their housemate and walked his floating body down the corridor.
Snape glared at the knot of Gryffindors who had remained in defense of their housemates, and none dared to challenge the Professor to remain. Harry tried to slink away as well, but Snape drifted into his path.
"I think not, Potter," Snape said, as he coolly regarded Harry in the manner of a pet that has outlived its usefulness. Ron hesitated for a moment, but withered in the face of a dark glare from Snape and followed the other Gryffindors away. Only Hermione remained.
Snape drew himself up and looked coldly down his nose at Hermione. "Your presence is neither required nor desired, Miss Granger." When she stood firm, he ordered, "Return to your common room - at once!"
Hermione looked uncertain for a moment, then her eyes sharpened and her chin came up in a familiar manner Harry instantly recognized. Stepping a silent pace back to be unseen by the Potions master, Harry frowned darkly at her and shook his head.
Reluctantly, she moved slowly down the corridor, lagging far behind Ron and the others. She looked back at Harry several times, incurring a sharp look from Snape each time, before she rounded the corner.
Harry was thankful for the dark fur that covered his face for at least Snape would not be able to see how much his face blanched, as the Potions master turned back and smirked at his young nemesis.
Snape must have considered today to be a banner day, since he was able to cap off the day with a week's detention for Harry and the loss of 50 House points for Gryffindor. Insufferable, greasy git…
Harry slumped onto the rug in front of the fireplace and started a fire. The movement of the flames was hypnotic and he felt his eyes closing as his body relaxed in answer to the heat and recent exertion.
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The sound of raised voices from outside in the Gryffindor common room woke Harry some time later. He raised his head and peered around blearily and noticed that the room had become shadowed as the fire had burnt down to a few embers.
"I'm telling you he's dangerous! Why won't believe me, Hermione?" Ron shouted stridently.
"Because it's Harry, Ronald. Remember, your best friend?! He's certainly faced worse and survived before. Why are you being so negative about this?" Hermione's voice was calmer, but no less forceful.
"Enough, Ron! Hermione's right, this is Harry we're talking about here. How can you be so sure that he's going to go feral?" Ginny's voice was concerned.
"Because, it's happened before! Don't you two understand?" Ron answered, his tone reflecting his frustration. Harry rose and went to the door to listen, but all that came to him was the sound of Ron storming upstairs.
He leaned his forehead against the wood door and sighed heavily. The two girls were silent for a moment, and then he heard Hermione said to Ginny, "You know what is happening with Ron, I can tell from your face, Ginny."
Ginny hesitated briefly, "I just got a letter back from George. I asked if he knew why Ron would be so hysterical about Harry's condition."
"And?" Hermione queried.
"George told me about our Uncle Leonard, who died when I was six. He was Dad's youngest brother." Ginny said softly.
Harry was transfixed by the pain in Ginny's voice. What did Ron's uncle have to do with him?
Hermione urged her to continue. As Harry eavesdropped shamelessly, he heard the girls settle on the floor, most likely in front of the hearth before Ginny took a deep breath before she went on, "Evidently, Ron really adored Uncle Leo, and would often go over to see him since he lived only a short distance from the Burrow. Uncle Leo was a great fan of Quidditch and chess, and Ron's interests were always similar to his."
The sound of people coming through the Portrait Hole interrupted Ginny as the other students greeted Hermione and Ginny. The newcomers did not linger long in the Common Room, but the two girls waited until they were alone once more before returning to their discussion.
"Go on, please, Ginny." Hermione encouraged.
"George says that uncle Leo decided to become an Animagus, and attempted the change on his own without letting Dad or Uncle Charles know what he intended." The younger girl continued sadly, "Ron went to visit him and found Uncle Leo. The change had gone wrong. Badly."
Hermione gasped in horror as Ginny sobbed, "He attacked and chased Ron, who ran back home. Uncle Leo caught him just before he reached the safety of the house. Dad heard Ron's screams and fought Uncle Leo off of him, but Ron was clawed up something awful."
"Oh my god, Ginny! Poor Ron…but, what happened to your uncle?" Hermione's voice shook a bit.
"George said Dad told him that Leo came back to himself after Dad stopped him from killing Ron and put him into the Spell Damage Ward at St Mungo's. Uncle Leo left a letter for Dad and Uncles Charles, telling them that he couldn't live with what had almost happened to Ron. Somehow, Leo managed to get a wand; Dad didn't know from where, and he killed himself. Ron had wandered down after they healed the worst of his wounds to see Uncle Leo and was the one who found him dead."
Harry was as shocked as Hermione had sounded earlier. They had never suspected that Ron had harbored such a painful experience in his past. But now, Harry realized from where those faint scars on Ron's legs had come.
Harry wandered back to his own hearth and sat down. The girls were still talking, but Harry paid no attention as he stared into the dim hearth.
Maybe Ron was right, maybe Harry was destined to go feral, but Harry couldn't bring himself to truly believe that his destiny was set in stone just yet.
But everyone around him would be in danger until Harry succeeded in the change. The condition of the courtyard indicated that if nothing else.
Making his decision, Harry strode to his desk and sat down to write.
Author Note: Please Review!
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