Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 24 - Growing Power

All things are ready, if our minds be so.

-- William Shakespeare, Henry V

Murderer... We truly are equals....

A fortress of stone stood tall on the island, surrounded by sea. It was the home of the damned, of the guilty... and occasionally the innocent. Abandoned by the creatures of darkness, Azkaban fortress was a decidedly cheerier place nowadays. Guarded by twenty five Aurors it was still the main wizarding prison of Britain.

It was home to many enemies of the light. Thirty seven Death Eaters lived in its dark, dank halls. Users of the Unforgivables resided there. Dark Wizards outnumbered the Aurors three to one in this hell on earth. The worst of the worst festered in its infinitely dirty cells, prisoners full of malice spent their waking hours plotting revenge, because many had heard their master's call. Their arms were burning.

It would not take much to break the island prison open.

****

Harry opened his eyes to the early morning darkness and for one blissful moment remembered nothing. An instant later all of it came crashing down in an unbreakable font of memories. The Dementor attack, His arrival, the duel, the curse, the explosion of his wand, the final fall. Harry closed his eyes again and sighed into his hand, which was bandaged from the wound he had suffered.

Guilt as heavy as a mountain weighed down upon him, it was the weight of the dead. It was suffocating him. A hundred images of all those that had died passed before his eyes, cut down mercilessly, for nothing. And with that came the cold, stark realisation that no matter how he fought this war... death would follow him everywhere. The war hadn't ended in Hogsmeade, it had only just begun.

Harry held back the tears that were desperate for release and pulled the sheets of the hospital bed off of him. With a cry he stood up and made for the door as fast as he could. He didn't notice the lone figure that was sitting in the shadows on the other side of his bed. The figure that hadn't slept that night, just in case he woke up.

It's never fair.... God! I want someone... I want Sirius... He'd know what to do, he could help. Tell me it's all alright.... that I did what I had to do...

Harry's thoughts were dark as he walked absently through the deserted corridors of the castle in the early hours of the morning. The walls were so close to him, suffocating. He needed fresh air. His feet took him all the way to the Entrance of the castle and he threw the door open hard, stepping out into the cold morning still shrouded in darkness.

Harry could see his breath on the air as he sat himself down tiredly at the top of the steps just outside of the door. He sighed heavily and absently rubbed at his scar, trying desperately to forget. So many bad memories, there was only so much a person could take before they shatter like glass on stone. Harry felt a lone tear running down his cheek and he swiped it away angrily. No weakness he thought too many are relying on me.... He looked up into the failing night sky and saw a few remaining stars and also the planet of war shining with a red hue, an awful reminder of reality.

Harry shivered slightly in the cool morning air and looking down he saw he was wearing those striped hospital pyjamas. Without even thinking he waved his hand and the pyjamas transfigured into blue jeans and a thick woolly jumper. He hadn't even uttered a spell; it was just a hand movement and a thought. Harry looked at his hand now and saw the bandage on his right that was hiding the scars left by his wand. I might have to get a new wand he thought with a grim humour.

But that wasn't his all consuming thought. The magic coursing through him was. It had grown from the battle, broken free and grown. And it was still doing so. Harry was honestly scared by the power of the blasting curse, scared that he'd done it so easily. It had been an enormous drain on his power but if anyone else had tried that they'd probably be dead.

What's happening to me? he thought, running a hand through his hair nervously. I feel as if I could Apparate straight through the Hogwart's wards.

Harry stood up shakily, a bit unsteady on his feet as he had just left the hospital. With a thought he tried to Apparate, but instantly felt the wards against him like a mountain in his path. They were huge, and ultimately powerful. A barrier of impenetrable magic weighed down upon him and prevented Apparation. Harry sat back down with a sigh. He wasn't powerful enough to pass through the wards.... yet.

The morning Sun had slowly begun to rise over the peaks of the mountains in the distance as Harry had been out in the open air. He was watching it absently as the first beams hit his face, warming him and the area slightly. There was a rustling in the distance and Harry looked over to the forest to see a Thestral soar up above the trees, before sinking back down in a graceful arc. It was then that there was a small tap on Harry's shoulder.

Harry jumped up so fast he almost fell down the steps, but thankfully he didn't. "Did I scare you?" smiled Ginny gently.

Harry relaxed somewhat and leaned against the small brick wall. "You follow me?"

"From the hospital," answered Ginny truthful. "I was on 'Harry' watch...."

"What?" asked Harry, slightly confused.

"We decided it would probably be best if one of us was there when you woke up...." Ginny said, pulling her robes around herself. "Aren't you cold?" she shivered.

"No..." Harry replied quietly, turning away and staring into the nothingness of the castle grounds. Ginny could see his eyes were unfocused, though. He was lost once again in memories.

Ginny hesitated, not sure quite what to say. She decided on the bad news first. "Azkaban was broken open while you slept," she whispered. "It was-"

"I know," Harry sadly whispered. "I saw it in my dreams. About one hundred new followers joined him, all the Aurors died."

Ginny flinched, his visions unbelievingly accurate. She thought that she would be used to them by now. "Harry, I-"

"Did anyone tell you what happened in Hogsmeade?" he asked coldly with his fists clenched.

"Only what we read in the papers," Ginny began and Harry sighed. "You duelled with You-Know-Who again and there was a battle between Aurors and Death Eaters. We also heard explosions from here. I was in Magical Creatures when there was this massive explosion and a flashing red light in the distance. At the same time Dumbledore and half the teaching staff were tearing down the grounds towards the gates."

"...Flashing red light in the distance...." Harry whispered to himself, Ginny heard. "That was me. I killed thirty with that blast...."

Ginny gasped audibly and instantly regretted it when she saw the absolute heartbreaking emotion pass across Harry's face. "You did what you-"

Harry turned around angrily and his emerald green eyes pierced into her amazingly. "What? Did what I had to do? I hate having to do what I have to do. I HATE IT!" he cried, a wave of power emanating from him, making his hair and clothes swirl. "But if I don't do it, people I care about will die! I-can't-win, Ginny! Either way someone, somewhere has to die...."

"Harry..." she began, tears in her eyes.

"NO! I had to kill them, I had to," Ginny understood he was begging her to understand, when she already did perfectly. "If I didn't the Aurors would have died. They all would have died! I... I did what I had to..." he finished quietly, frowning at his choice of words. "I didn't get a choice...." he whispered, falling against the stone wall. "It was kill or be killed...."

"Harry," Ginny said forcefully, tears now falling down her cheeks slowly. "What's really bothering you? Causing these outbursts? Something else has happened..."

Harry looked up into her eyes and had to turn away under her piercing gaze. "I... Voldemort said this made us equal. That I was just like him now."

It took Ginny only a moment to comprehend and when she did she sighed. "Harry... the fact that you feel guilt, that you feel remorse over what happened, proves that you're different from him. He enjoys it, sadistically so... you save lives of those who are innocent. If anything you two are exact opposites." Ginny said this with such a great conviction in her voice that Harry accepted it.

She's right he thought. In some respects anyway.... Harry turned to look at her. The morning light wasn't that bright yet but he could still see her clearly enough in the pale light. Ginny was wearing her Hogwarts robes and a maroon scarf around her neck. She had her hair spread out down past her shoulders and a few strands were blowing slightly in the wind. Tears fell from her chocolate brown eyes and Harry watched one trail down her cheek and fall into the corner of her mouth. He stared at her for one long moment before shaking his head and turning away sharply.

"Harry," Ginny began quietly, having seen the look in his face.

"I have to see Dumbledore," he breathed. "I'll see you all at breakfast," he said hurriedly, stepping passed her and back into the ancient castle.

Ginny stood staring at the forest for a moment in confusion, as all the pieces fell into place. She turned away gracefully as a slow smile played at the corners of her lips.

****

Harry knocked three times on the old oak door of the Headmaster's office. The plethora of voices inside instantly died down and Dumbledore spoke from within. "Come, he said.

Harry pushed open the door with is good hand and limped slowly into the room, his ankle twinging with pain slightly from the sprain. Before he could even gather his senses someone wrapped their arms around him in a tight embrace. Harry stiffened for a moment before relaxing. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," he said.

"Oh, Harry," cried Molly Weasley, dabbing at her nose with a tissue. "Can't leave you alone for five minutes can we," she said shakily, her eyes rimmed with tears.

Harry smiled genuinely at her concern and then looked around the room. It appeared he had intruded on an Order meeting. In the room were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Remus, Kingsley (who had a sling on his arm), Amos Diggory, a few witches Harry had met but could not recall their names, Snape, Mad Eye Moody, McGonagall. Mundungus Fletcher, Sturgis Podmore, Dedalus Diggle, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley, Hestia Jones, and surprisingly Dermas. They were all either standing or seated around Dumbledore's desk.

"I'm okay, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said gently, separating himself from her and limping over to Dumbledore's desk, every eye in the room upon him. "What's our response?" asked Harry.

"I beg your pardon, Harry?" said Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows in question.

"Our response," frowned Harry. "To his attack...."

Whispers broke out from the present Order members and Harry turned to stare at each one in turn, the look on his face enough to silence them. "You're just going to sit back and do nothing, aren't you?" Harry growled. It wasn't really a question.

"Now really, Potter-" began Snape, but Harry cut him off.

"Voldemort has pretty much replenished his forces now that Azkaban has fallen. What are we doing?" questioned Harry, annoyance in his voice

Dumbledore had remained silent so far and continued to be so. It was Mr. Weasley that answered Harry. "We've begun training more Aurors, Harry. Though not many want to join... France and some other European Ministries have also agreed to lend us aid."

"About time," Harry mumbled to himself. "How many Aurors are left?" he asked, directing his question towards Kingsley.

Kingsley gave a quick glance to Dumbledore, who just nodded slightly. "Only one hundred and sixty were on hand to get to Hogsmeade yesterday," he began. "One hundred and seven died, twenty three were severely injured, and thirty made it back to the division unscathed. Of the other Aurors who weren't at the battle, twenty five died at Azkaban and two hundred have been recalled to Headquarters. Two hundred and thirty is the exact number available."

Shit Harry thought. "Voldemort has a little over that," he said and several members looked around at each other nervously. "So we cannot retaliate with lesser numbers and Voldemort knows he now holds the upper hand. What do we do?"

Silence reined in the office and Harry was slowly growing more and more frustrated at the lack of progress. "Professor," Harry began, turning to Dumbledore. "You know as well as I do that Riddle will use this opportunity to crush us."

Every head in the study turned to Dumbledore, who sighed and massaged his temple with one hand. "Perhaps.... I do know that, Harry, but I also believe Tom has other plans."

"Other plans?" questioned Harry.

Dumbledore blinked and then looked to every face in the room. "He wants to destroy you, Harry, before trying to overthrow Britain. It is becoming increasingly difficult to keep you from him, almost impossibly so... You can never leave the Hogwarts grounds again safely."

Harry scowled. "So that means I won't be leaving, doesn't it?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. Every one in the room looked uncomfortable. Harry stared at each in turn before returning his gaze to the Headmaster. Those that knew Harry well would see from the look in his eyes that he was furious.

"Right then," he whispered angrily. "Dermas, I'll see you tomorrow morning for training." Harry nodded to the blade master and without another word turned on his heel and made for the door.

Harry heard Dumbledore and a few others call to stop him but he left before his magic could get the better of him. Anger and his magic reacted dangerously. Harry was down the steps and halfway down the hall when he heard hurried steps behind him and a familiar voice call his name.

"Potter," came the brisk Scottish accent of Professor McGonagall.

Harry stopped, the early morning light shining in his eyes from the window to his left. He took a deep breath and then turned back around to see his head of house catch up with him. "What is it, Professor?" he asked a little roughly.

McGonagall heard his tone and her lips shrank into her patented glare that could make first years cry. "I wanted you to know, Mr. Potter. That the griffin arrived yesterday afternoon, while you were... visiting... Hogsmeade."

"You mean while I was duelling with Voldemort?" he asked bitterly. His bitterness was directed towards Voldemort though. Harry had completely forgotten about Animagus training over the months, there were a few brief reminders but mostly it had just been one fight after another. "What happens now?" he asked.

McGonagall stared at him seriously for a moment, assessing him. "I'll take you to see it. If it is truly to be your form, you will know."

"How?" asked Harry, rubbing his sore hand and blinking in the growing light. He fell into step beside McGonagall as they walked away down the corridor.

"You will most certainly feel a connection. I myself have felt a live long affiliation with felines, hence my form," McGonagall said matter of fact.

Harry fell once again into his dark thoughts as he followed his head of house down through the well trodden halls of Hogwarts. Most prominent on his mind was the awesome strength of his magic. It had broken out during that damned Cruciatus and now it kept growing inside of him, making him feel alive and immortal. The castle was waking up now and Harry and McGonagall passed a few students in the halls, though no Gryffindors. Most looked at him with a grave respect, others with an unbelievable awe. Harry ignored them all, more worried about his magic.

Things are starting to look dark.... he thought. And they were. Voldemort was gathering followers at an alarming rate. Other countries had finally begun to mobilise and see the Dark Lord as a real threat but there was only so much they could do. Azkaban had been a sore blow and soon Voldemort would have the strength to launch a full assault. That is Harry thought if he kills me...

Harry and McGonagall had just passed the guest quarters when someone called out to him from behind them. He turned fast but relaxed a moment later when he saw Hermione's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Hi...." he said automatically.

Hermione's parents joined Harry and McGonagall as they continued down through the castle. "Nice to see you up and well, Harry," said Mrs. Granger.

Harry smiled but didn't say anything. Mr. Granger had begun talking to McGonagall so Harry felt he had to talk to Mrs. Granger. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just got a little roughed up yesterday."

Mrs. Granger nodded, sensing Harry didn't want to breach this subject. "Well..." she said. "We might not be here much longer. Albus has agreed that we can safely go back to work now."

Harry frowned. "How?"

Mrs. Granger seemed to think for a moment. "We'll be moving back into the rooms above our surgery until the house can be repaired and while we are there...." she frowned slightly. "Albus mentioned something about magic. The... erm... secret keeper charm?"

Harry nodded. "That's about as safe as you can get. Who's going to be your secret keeper?"

"Excuse me?" questioned Mrs. Granger.

Harry realised she hadn't been told the details of the spell, so as they walked he filled her in on the specifics of the Fidelius Charm. By the time he finished they were in the Entrance Hall.

"Well," nodded Mrs. Granger. "That is amazing. But one of us can't be a secret keeper?" Harry nodded. "Then who do you think will want to risk it?" she asked worriedly, thinking more about the secret keeper's well being than her own.

Harry shrugged. "I'll do it if you want," he said selflessly. "I mean I'm already number one on Voldemort's list and I am the secret keeper for your daughter and Ron here at Hogwart's."

Mrs. Granger had an unshed tear in her eye as she beheld the young man before her. He always risked so much, and won so little. Through all the pain and grief in his life he still managed to turn out alright. Most would have given in long ago if they had to suffer like he did, but not Harry. "You'd do that for us?" she asked, admiration and respect in her eyes.

Harry nodded, personally he didn't think it was that big of a deal. He looked over to McGonagall still chatting with Mr. Granger in the middle of the hall. "Listen... do you want to come and see a griffin?" he asked, and Mrs. Granger frowned.

"Excuse me?" she smiled.

Harry walked over to McGonagall and Mr. Granger. "Can Hermione's parents come and see the griffin as well?" he asked McGonagall.

"If they wish to, Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied, raising her eyebrows in question to Mr. Granger.

"I think that would be something to see," he said, looking thoughtful as Mrs. Granger nodded.

It was decided then. The four of them walked over to and through the aging doors of the castle. Harry recalled being there an hour earlier and remembered speaking with Ginny. He smiled slightly but that fell when the cold struck him. It was still early morning, not gone seven thirty yet and even though it was later in the day, Harry felt colder than when he'd been out here previously. Perhaps he hadn't felt the cold before, as he was too washed up in his emotions. He certainly knew that Ginny had felt the cold, but he didn't think much of it then.

As the castle was heated magically in the mornings, he and the Grangers hadn't been dressed that warmly and they all shivered slightly in the cool wind now. The ground was also slushy as the snow had finally begun to melt after many months of winter. It was still ankle deep on the ground, though, but there was really no chance that more would fall.

Without even really thinking about it, Harry waved his hand in front of him and cast a particularly powerful heating charm. What's more he had also charmed it to follow them, so he didn't have to constantly recast it. Harry realised a moment later what he had done and frowned. He had barely even thought of it before it happened. He looked over to McGonagall who had drawn her lips into a line and was looking at him questioningly. He didn't answer.

"That's better,' Mrs. Granger commented. "Magic is an amazing thing."

They made small conversation as they walked down through the snowy grounds towards Hagrid's cabin. Harry felt a slight apprehension as they approached but it was really just excitement. To be able to transform would be amazing, though it would take a few months.

Harry heard it before he saw it. A loud, unmistakable sound of an eagle ripped across the quiet grounds. It was answered by the call of another ferocious creature, the Chimera that Hagrid had had imported. And then there it was. As Harry, McGonagall, and the Grangers walked over the rise in the grounds that hid Hagrid's from view, another cry broke the quietness and Harry first beheld the creature he was one day to become.

It was in a paddock next to the Chimera, though they were separated a great distance. Hagrid was in the chimera paddock and was feeding the beast, but Harry only barely realised that before his gaze was drawn back to the griffin. It had to be the most proud creature Harry had ever seen, more so than a Hippogriff. It was elegant as well. Standing tall on a rocky outcrop in its enclosure the griffin turned and its eyes locked with Harry's. Eye's as sharp as eagles, for the creature was part eagle. It had the head, beak, neck, wings, and talons of an eagle on its front to legs. The body was that of a lion and its hind quarters had paws in a glowing sand yellow coat. A long, majestic tail also swung back and forth slowly at the animal's rear.

Harry and the Grangers were stunned to say the least, though Mr. and Mrs. Granger's eyes flew back and forth between the chimera and the griffin. Harry, for his part, never thought that seeing one of these beasts in person could be so thrilling. He knew without a doubt that he would one day transform into this creature.

"A male griffin from the mountains of India," said McGonagall, beginning to lead the group down the small hill. "From what we can tell he is twelve years of age, which is barely just out of infancy for griffins, which live from anything between two hundred to five hundred years."

"It is unbelievable," commented Brian Granger, shaking his head.

The four of them came to the edge of the paddock housing the griffin and the creature slowly turned to face them. Harry kept his eyes on it for a moment before glancing over to the chimera paddock. "Alright, Hagrid?" he called.

"Yer be careful there, Harry," Hagrid replied, chucking a piece of meat to the chimera. "Jus' fed the griffin but they can be a bi' temp'ramental. If yer follow me..."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry called back and turned to face McGonagall. "What next?" he asked.

"Well, Potter, I want you to study it, down to the last detail. You have worked on altering parts of your body. I want you to now work on altering them further." McGonagall lifted her gaze over to the griffin. "That is... if a griffin is to be your form...?"

"It is," said Harry without a doubt, jumping over the wooden planks of the griffin's enclosure.

"Be careful, Harry," McGonagall said quickly. "Approach it if you wish, but remember it is an intelligent creature. Show it respect..."

Harry nodded and then turned back towards the griffin. The creature's sharp eagle eyes were now level with Harry's. It remained stoically still, only slightly tilting his head in assessment of Harry. Remembering his dealings with Hippogriffs, Harry held its gaze and tried not to blink. Slowly he took a few steps forward and the beast leapt from the rock it had stood upon and with a cry dug its claws into the earth.

Harry paused and hesitated for a moment as the griffin emitted an ear piercing screech. After it he heard Mrs. Granger's gasp and McGonagall call him back, but Harry held its gaze. He felt compelled to walk over to the animal, to touch it if he could. And that feeling outweighed his one of fear.

The cool breeze of winter's last grasp swirled through the trees of the forest and across the icy grounds, rustling Harry's hair. He walked calmly and with a surprising confidence over to the griffin, which stared at him with golden eyes. Harry was close now, so close he could feel the griffin's warm breath. He saw its claws scrape up the earth as he approached, but that didn't deter him.

There was barely a three foot distance between the two of them now and Harry could tell that the griffin's eyes held a questioning look at his presence. Harry's returned the look and slowly he raised his arm, thinking about one day being able to become this creature. A surge of magic rippled through him at this moment and Harry heard and saw a faint crackle at the tips of his fingers. The griffin saw it as well and backed up uncertainly.

"It's okay," Harry whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you...."

The griffin cocked its eagle head as if it thought that idea absurd. If it wanted to, it could kill Harry in the blink of an eye. Both Harry and the griffin knew this. Harry let out a long held breath and then, with a slight smile, stepped forward and placed his hand on the feathers of the Griffin's neck.

Harry had expected to feel coarse feathers as he would on Hedwig, and normally he would have. But this time pain ripped through his entire body.

*****

"Did he seem alright, Ginny?" asked Ron.

Ginny frowned and gave a moment's thought to her answer. She, Ron, Hermione and Neville had all just sat down to breakfast in the Great Hall. Having only spent a few minutes in his company, she wasn't entirely sure. "He feels guilty over what happened," she sighed. "He killed some Death Eaters."

Hermione, Ron, and Neville paled. They all knew it was Harry's job to fight, his seemingly inescapable fate to kill, but that didn't lessen the blow any. They themselves knew it may one day come to that for them but they hoped it would at least be after they left school. Harry had once again shown that he had never been a child... never.

"Oh, dear..." whispered Hermione. "Did he- did he say who it was? Was it a Death Eater he knew?"

Ginny blinked and then looked down, a deep sigh escaping her lips. "It was thirty Death Eaters..." Ron's fork clattered to the floor. "And he did it with one curse...."

Silence and disbelieving looks immediately masked Ron and Neville's faces. Hermione however fell into deep thought. "He must have fused spells...." she mumbled to herself. "But enough to kill thirty? The power alone should have killed him!"

"And he already knew about Azkaban. He saw it in his dreams." Ginny said finally, looking up to the Head table in time to see Dumbledore, Snape, Moody, and Dermas take their seats. Harry's other special teachers also lined the table. Ginny thought though, that Dumbledore and Snape both looked deeply troubled.

*****

Twenty Minutes Earlier

Snape watched with a growing irritation as Potter snapped at the Order, the organisation that had kept him alive for so many years. True there had been a few mistakes made, but when dealing with Potter it was to be expected. Snape himself had more than once saved the boys life, even though he couldn't care less what happened to him. He only did it because Potter was the world's only chance of one day knowing peace.

"Right then," Harry whispered angrily. "Dermas, I'll see you tomorrow morning for training." Harry nodded to the blade master and without another word turned on his heel and made for the door.

Snape remained silent as Dumbledore and a few others called for Potter to stop. He remained silent as Dumbledore sighed, showing his age. He has been doing that more and more frequently as of late Snape thought. And he remained silent as the Headmaster sent McGonagall down after the troubled boy.

That was it for the meeting, though. Potter had seen to that. Dumbledore thanked the Order and then dismissed them. Those who were remaining at the castle left the same way Potter did, the others using the floo. After a few minutes the room was emptied of all save Dumbledore, himself, and the phoenix. This was when Snape gave his personal report that others were not to hear.

"How is Tom taking his defeat at Hogsmeade, Severus?" asked the old Headmaster as Snape took a seat in front of his desk.

Snape smirked at the question. "He doesn't see it as a defeat, Albus. Not when he reclaimed so many followers from Azkaban. He sees it more as a test of Potter's power, to know what he is up against."

Dumbledore nodded, his wizened brow creasing into a frown. "Azkaban..." he whispered. "That was a sore blow that I did not see coming."

"Nor did I, Headmaster. I was not informed of the attack on Hogsmeade or the destruction of Azkaban last night. My position may have been compromised." Snape said this without any fear.

Dumbledore surveyed his Potions Master, Spy, Colleague, and to a lesser extent, friend. "If you wish to cease answering his summons, I understand," Dumbledore said warily.

Snape bristled and their eyes met. "Headmaster," Snape said with a hint of venom. "My loyalty to the Order makes that impossible."

Dumbledore saw the double meaning in his reply. Snape had been insulted by his suggestion to leave the Death Eaters, after he had had to convince so many of his loyalties to join them after Voldemort had been resurrected. That had been a painful experience he would not like to repeat. But to Snape it gave his life meaning, even after all the terribly deeds in his past. He had found something worth living for, and to give that up would leave him with nothing as long as the Dark Lord lived.

Dumbledore blinked and stroked Fawkes gently. "I apologise, Severus," he said after a moment. It was another moment before he spoke again. "Tell me, how do you think young Harry is coping?"

Snape stared at the Headmaster for a moment. It wasn't often Dumbledore asked his opinion on Potter's current state. But at times, such as after the business with the Philosopher's Stone, the basilisk, and then his resurrection, it was evident Albus needed to know how others perceived Harry. Snape couldn't be sure why the old man felt like that, maybe over the years he had come to love the boy? He wouldn't be surprised nor would he care, that emotion was not for him. Though the headmaster had phrased his question so as not to appear to love the boy. He held a passionate, vested interest in Potter's well being, but had hid it as an intellectual conviction.

"I believe Potter will manage. He has proven his worth time and time again. If anything he will learn from this experience and realise to kill will become part of his nature..." Dumbledore had asked for his view, and Snape had given it.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in question, but slowly nodded. Fawkes sensing his master's distress sung sadly. "But being so young, Severus."

"If he is foolish enough to openly challenge the Dark Lord at such a young age then he is going to have to learn that rhe fight will be brought home to him," Snape said matter of fact.

"And do you believe what he said a moment ago?" asked Dumbledore. "That we are doing nothing?"

Snape really thought about this one. On some level he could identify with Potter, see his reasoning. But there was also a lot going on in the Order that Potter wasn't aware of. They were not sitting back and giving Voldemort a clear run to victory. "I do not believe that is true, Albus, and I don't think Potter believes it either."

Dumbledore wearily nodded again and Snape felt a pang of sadness that would never show on his face. He didn't know the Headmaster's exact age, but it was in the region of one hundred and fifty. "Maybe I am getting to old," Dumbledore mused, reflecting Snape's thoughts. "How do I know I'm making the right choices anymore?"

If it had come from anyone else, even Voldemort, Snape would have seen it as weakness. But coming from Dumbledore it worried him. "May I ask what has brought these thoughts on, Headmaster?" Snape asked.

Dumbledore sobered and sat up a little taller in his chair. "The current state of things, the coming darkness. How did it come to this?" he asked himself. "My views I've held all my life are challenged as Harry and Tom continue their fight. It is as if the entire world is just a spectator to their battle...."

Snape shook his head and responded with his calm, cool logic. "All of us need our deeply held views challenged from time to time, Albus... even if only to remind us why we've got them."

"Ever the Slytherin, Severus?" smiled Dumbledore, stroking Fawkes' neck.

"Of course," Snape responded, his patented smirk firmly in place. "Perhaps we should make our way to breakfast now, Headmaster?"

"Indeed," agreed Dumbledore, rising from his old chair, almost as old as the man himself. "Thank you, Severus," he said finally.

*****

Harry had expected to feel coarse feathers as he would on Hedwig, and normally he would have. But this time pain ripped through his entire body.

Mrs. Granger cried out and McGonagall had her wand out in the blink of an eye. Harry's screams ripped across the grounds and the griffin leapt back from him quickly, his own screech piercing the early morning as well. McGonagall stared unbelievingly at the scene before her for a moment. Everything she had ever known about transfiguration telling her that what was happening now was impossible. But it was happening, and all Harry had done was touch the animal.

Harry screamed as his bones and nerves scorched as if burned. It felt as if Voldemort had just cast the Cruciatus on him like in Hogsmeade. In the rational part of his mind he wondered what was happening, he had only touched the griffin, that's all. His magic had twinged slightly as he had approached, but that was it.... and now pain ripped through his body and it felt as if his limbs and skin was being stretched to breaking point.

A few seconds after the pain began he fell to the ground, his eyes blind and closed tightly. Over and through the pain and his own screams he picked up a few words of those near him.

"Ge' him ou' of there," called Hagrid.

"Absolutely impossible," McGonagall said with a slight fear in her voice.

"What is happening?" asked Mr. Granger.

Harry no longer heard the voices as they were replaced with a loud, deep ringing that was deafening. The pain had seemed to climax now as it was remaining constant, neither worsening nor lessening. It remained like this for a long minute, but then Harry slowly started to breathe deeply, shaking slightly from the pain, which had now thankfully lessened.

It fell still lower and he opened his eyes, still feeling slightly stretched and worn out. He wondered what the hell had happened to him and turned to face McGonagall. What he saw was a blurry mess, he could make out the form of his head of house but it was all out of focus. Must have lost my glasses he thought. But he dismissed that idea when he saw the castle behind him. It was tinged green, and everything at that distance was in crystal clear clarity. Harry could make out the individual bumps in the stone where the joins were made. What...? He cried out in his mind, knowing something was amiss.

Harry blinked and made to move but felt an unexpected weight that at the moment he was powerless to remove. He blinked again and looked deeply at McGonagall, who had now come into focus, though it was a lot sharper focus than what Harry was used to. "Professor-" Harry tried to speak but a series of low screeches were all that were emitted from his mouth. He made to stand up and reached out an arm-

Harry shouted out loud at the sight of his arm, which was long and thin, complete with the glowering sharp talons of an animal. It wasn't a human arm. His cries came out as loud, desperate screeches to McGonagall, who now pointed her wand at Harry. Through his fear and confusion Harry saw this and realised a moment later what she was about to do. For it made sense now, sort of. He didn't know how it had happened but it had, he had become a Griffin...

Harry found that even in the mere seconds he had been in his animal form; he already had control over most of his senses. So much so that he heard what McGonagall said and saw the golden thread of magic that connected him to her wand, to her Animagus spell. It was the same one used by Remus and Sirius back in third year at the Shrieking Shack. The spell that had forced Wormtail to revert from his rat form and back into a human.

It worked now. Harry felt the spell forcing him, willing him to turn back into a human. The only problem was... he didn't know how. He felt the power behind the spell increase and he started to feel a dull ache in his... he supposed it was what he would call a chest of a griffin. The feeling slowly spread through his legs and up his neck, into his head. It wasn't very painful but it was most certainly uncomfortable.

After a moment the pain started to increase and Harry worked on closing his eyes. Everything felt different as a griffin and it took a long second for him to get control of his eyelids. Harry breathed in deeply through his sharp, curved... beak... and concentrated on his human form. He tried to imagine himself as he was as a human. His scar he concentrated on the most, on his slightly pale face. The skin around the jagged scar was slightly enflamed, giving his forehead a rough tinged look, as if it were sunburnt. He recalled his other scars on other parts of his body. His leg, back, cheek, arm, and hand. All recent additions.

It was then that Harry felt a different kind of consciousness in his mind. It frightened him at first but after a moment he felt a familiarity with it, as if it had always been there, just never thought of. It wasn't like his mind connection with Voldemort, it was instinct. Animal instinct. Harry felt the sudden urge to spread his wings and fly. Being on his side he couldn't do that, but he knew the experience would be incredible.

Harry's human consciousness fought against that, though. The rational part of him thinking that there will be time for that later, right now you have to become human again. So Harry concentrated once more as the spell McGonagall was still casting increased in strength. It was really starting to hurt now.

Human... he thought, his mind identifying things unique to his body.

You are human...

Human...

HUMAN! Come on!

Harry felt a short, but sharp stab in intense pain and then all was quiet. His eyes were tightly closed and he felt his heart beating heavily in his chest. Lazily he put an arm across his chest to catch his breath, but then snapped open his eyes. Harry sat up so fast it was a blur. The firs thing he noticed were his very human legs moving before him in his very human jeans. He looked down to his arms and sighed with relief. Quickly he ran a hand through his hair and then tentatively touched his scar. Ouch he winced when the familiar pain whisked through it. Damn it he thought angrily. Why the hell did that just happen?

"Harry..." McGonagall said shakily, her voice audible even over the screeches the other griffin, momentarily forgotten, was making as Hagrid tried to calm the beast.

Harry looked through blurry eyes at her and then over to the stunned expressions upon Mr. and Mrs. Granger's faces. His mind reeled and he slowly, feeling slightly nauseous, got to his feet. "Harry, you just-" McGonagall began, taking a step forward but Harry cut her off.

"Stay away," he said through deep breaths, raising his hand as a shield charm magically popped into existence. Harry frowned and then looked at his palm. Jesus... he thought. I can barely control it anymore.

"Harry, why don't you sit down?" offered McGonagall, conjuring a chair. She was obviously trying her best to understand what was going on.

"No..." he gasped, wincing as he brushed his bandaged hand against his side. "I've got to... got to go sort this out."

And with that he was off. As fast as he could Harry ran from the paddock, jumped over the fence and was off towards the castle. He didn't heed the calls from McGonagall, Hagrid, the Grangers.... or the griffin.

*****