Harry Potter and the Return to Youth

Chapter 2: What form is my form?

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The glare of the early morning sun peeking through the curtains of his bed woke Harry from a surprisingly nightmare-free sleep. Harry sat up groggily on his bed and stretched before poking his head out of his curtains.

With a glance around his room he noticed that McGonagall's basket was empty. He slipped out of his bed, and after a few steps, he spotted a note left atop the gaming table from the night before.

Harry,

I have returned to my home in order to take care of a few matters. I will return by noon. If you can, please meet me in your front yard. I would prefer to avoid obliviating your Aunt Marge if possible.

-Professor Minerva McGonagall

Gryffindor Head of House

Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

With a more critical examination of his room Harry noticed that while the reading table and basket remained, the bag that carried them had vanished along with its owner.

After a moment's thought, Harry grabbed up some of Dudley's more worn second hand clothes and left his room for the shower. He spent as little time as possible in the shower in an attempt to avoid a confrontation with Aunt Marge. Five minutes later he was clean, clothed, and he had combed his hair into some semblance of order with his fingers.

Harry needed a plan so that he could be outside when McGonagall came back. He paused a moment before heading toward the stairs. This should work well. He tiptoed down the stairs and snuck into the kitchen. If there was one way into ingratiate himself to the Dursleys, it was through their stomachs. Maybe they'd let him out of his room to weed the front garden if he cooked their breakfast.

With practiced precision he began cracking and scrambling eggs, frying bacon, and toasting bread. By the time Aunt Petunia entered the kitchen fifteen minutes later, there was a nice spread already arranged on the kitchen table and Harry had a full belly.

"What do you think you're doing?" Aunt Petunia demanded.

"I thought I would try to show some initiative and cook everyone breakfast. Afterwards I thought I'd tend the front garden," Harry replied, in as reasonably as he could.

His aunt Petunia's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why? You've never showed any initiative before, you brat."

"Well maybe that's because I've never had a chance to!" Harry responded heatedly; he couldn't help himself.

"Hogwash! There were days last summer where I did all the cooking! And you know it!" Petunia sneered.

"Well the only reason why I didn't do it then was because I was slaving away doing other chores that just had to be done during meals," Harry growled nastily. "That or you didn't trust me not to poison the guests."

With those words barely out of his mouth, and his aunt's face in mid-contortion, Aunt Marge burst into the kitchen. "What do you think you're doing, you lazy vagabond?" She looked down at Harry with utmost loathing.

Quick as a whip, Harry turned to face her and said, "I had just finished fixing breakfast for everyone and thought I could help out by weeding the front garden and trimming the bushes and hedge. It's overgrown because I haven't been here to tend it since last summer."

Uncle Vernon, red faced and snarling, entered the kitchen right on his sister's heels. "What's all this hollering about?" he demanded.

"Your delinquent nephew's made us breakfast and wants to weed out front," Marge replied while casting a suspicious glare at Harry. "Is it safe to eat his cooking?" She turned to glance at Petunia.

During the conversation Petunia managed, with a great deal of effort, to visibly control herself. "He hasn't poisoned us before, and he won't start now if he knows what's good for him," she said, and gave Harry a pointed look.

"Just as well he finally got off his arse and did some honest work around here!" Vernon declared. "Finally doing his share to earn the roof over his head and food we put in his belly. You can weed out front, boy, and take a piece of toast for your breakfast."

Aunt Petunia sighed and nodded. "You're not to start till after nine o'clock; give the neighbors some time to leave before you show your ugly, dirty self."

Marge snorted, "Move along, boy. Can't have you down here when Ripper wakes up. He's having a bit of a lie in and can't be troubled with the likes of you."

Harry marched over to the table and nicked a piece of bread before retreating to his room with a last glance at the kitchen clock. Seven-thirty. He had an hour and a half to kill before he went out. After a bit of thought he decided it wouldn't hurt too badly to begin his summer homework and dug through his trunk until he found his Transfiguration assignment.

"Read the introduction and following three chapters on Vanishing spells in Intermediate Transfiguration, summarize and discuss the reading in a 56 inch essay. Include basic theory, wand movements, and basic differences in the basic forms of Vanishing, including permanent movement and temporary movement of both organic and non-organic materials." Harry's eyes popped. Fifty-six inches! Hermione must be in heaven. Still, there was nothing to do about it. He gathered up his Transfiguration book and began reading.

Approximately an hour later, Harry was trying to concentrate on the loop-and-pull wand movement of the permanent non-organic variety of Vanishing. The front door opened and closed and Harry rushed to his window and watched his Uncle Vernon leave for work in his company car.

Harry went back to his reading, and once he finished the chapter, he tiptoed down the stairs out through the front door. He closed the front door soundly and took a relieved breath; he really didn't feel up to another encounter with Aunt Petunia. He stole around the house, through the gate along the path between the garage and house, and continued to the greenhouse in the backyard. He took a pruning saw, some clippers, a pair of gloves, and a trowel before sneaking back to the front yard. He began his work by shaving the shrubs that lined the driveway back into spherical form. He then moved on to the hedge that separated number four from number two and trimmed it square. After gathering the clippings into a pile, he began weeding and pruning the flowerbed between the two hydrangea bushes that grew at opposite corners of the large living room window.

He had just finished pruning one of the hydrangea bushes in front of the living room window when Professor McGonagall hoped over the garden wall and walked to him. "Please give me a few minutes to weed the lawn and finish this pruning and I'll be able to join you inside, Professor," Harry whispered to the cat. The tabby cat nodded and sauntered back to the garden wall, where she lay down in its shadow.

Five minutes later, when Harry had just finished, Ripper banged through the gate Harry had left open and dashed straight for Professor McGonagall. He was closely followed by Marge, who yelled and whooped at the barking dog, "Go get 'im boy! That's it! Tear the nasty cat up!"

Professor McGonagall leaped up with a loud screech before jumping over the fence and went running down Privet Drive, past number two, and turning the corner onto Cleistes Way. Ripper was right on her heels and a moment after they turned the corner a 'pop' sounded, which was immediately followed by a loud yip. Ripper came tearing back towards number four, his short dark fur had been had been turned poodle-white and curly. Ripper's formerly deep bark had changed poodle-high and he went yipping back to Aunt Marge as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

"RIPPER!!! What happened to you?!? Oh! My Ripper! Come to Mama," Marge bellowed hysterically as she waddled as fast as she could to intercept and pick up her curly white canine. Harry couldn't contain his laughter, and his giggles became tearful shrieks when the former bulldog relieved himself all over Marge's skirt. Marge screamed again and dropped the dog and with a manic gleam in her eye she howled and kicked Ripper so hard he went flying and fell limp on the street. She gasped again with horror upon realizing what she had done and ran once again after her now wounded dog. She picked him up once again and he resumed wetting her blouse as she cuddled him. Aunt Marge ran past Harry into the house and slammed the door after her.

Harry was still chuckling to himself as he gathered up his tools and put them back in the greenhouse. He re-entered the house through the kitchen door in the back and encountered Aunt Petunia in the hall as she came through the front door, obviously having been looking for him.

"How dare you do that to Ripper!" his aunt snarled. "That's it! You're staying in your room for the rest of the summer! No meals for three days! I can't believe you!"

"But Aunt Petunia, I didn't do anything," Harry replied with a smile tugging at his lips. "I was by the hydrangea bushes the whole time! Ripper got cursed after he chased some wizard's cat around the block to Cleistes Way. They're keeping a closer watch on me than ever this summer, what with Voldemort being back and all."

Petunia's face paled before she shook her head and glared at him. "You're making this up boy, he can't be back. He's dead! You filthy liar, don't you try to scare me like that." She licked her trembling lips.

"Well he is! I saw him brought back to life in the graveyard! He's taller than Uncle Vernon, thin as a rail, and has big red eyes!" Harry returned.

"Jus... Just shut up. Shut up, you and get back to your room and stay there!" Aunt Petunia shrieked.

With a shake of his head Harry trotted up the stairs into his room. Once he closed the door and put Aunt Marge's shrieks behind him, he turned to see Professor McGonagall appraising him with merry eyes. "Professor! ... Why did you want me to meet you out front if you could just Apparate to my room?"

"Simply because I did not want to attract your relatives' notice with the pop I produce when Apparating. With all of the commotion, I thought I could Apparate safely." She covered her mouth with a hand and laughed into it.

"I must say, I think that dog... Ripper is it? Looks much improved with his new coat," she finished through her chuckles.

Harry beamed at her. "That was brilliant!" Harry paused, then and looked at the door. "Umm, can they hear us now?"

"No, Harry. I cast a sound-proofing charm when I came in."

Hedwig hooted from her open cage, causing Harry to turn to her with a smile. "Did you see that, girl?" Hedwig hoped out of her cage and glided to Harry, who raised an arm for her to land on. "Professor McGonagall did a smashing job of teaching that awful Ripper a lesson. Ripper and Aunt Marge are the reason why you had to stay in the car all day yesterday. You'll have to look for him when you're out hunting, I won't have him coming in here." Harry said, petting her affectionately on her head.

Professor McGonagall smiled at Harry while he conversed with his owl. "Harry, I remember you did very well in Transfiguration last year. I hope you plan to apply yourself even more this coming year for your O.W.L.s." She finished with her chin up and appraised him carefully through her spectacles.

"Yes, Professor, I had already read the first chapter on Vanishing Charms this morning before I went to work in the garden." Harry replied with obvious pride.

"Excellent, Harry!" She sniffed momentarily and frowned. "Would you mind if I scourgify you? Then perhaps we can have lunch."

"Please, ma'am. Will Dobby be coming back?"

"Yes he will, Harry," she finished, brandishing her wand at him. With a flick of her wrist a spell shot at him, cleaning him from head to toe of all the sweat and dirt he'd accumulated in the flowerbed.

Harry smiled at her, obviously pleased. He watched as she produced what he now called her 'traveling bag,' and pulled the table from it before she conjured two chairs. At last she pulled the hand-bell out and rang it.

Dobby appeared with his customary pop. "Hello, Professor McGonagall, ma'am, Dobby is here to serve," he bowed before the professor. "Dobby is so very happy to see you and Mr. Harry Potter, sir." He straightened and beamed adoringly at Harry. "Dobby is so glad that Mr. Harry Potter is finding things to eat this summer."

Harry blinked. "Dobby, we will be needing some lunch. Would you please prepare my usual sandwich with a side of creamy mushroom soup and water?" McGonagall asked before turning an inquisitive eyebrow at Harry.

"Um, I'm glad I will have things to eat this summer too, Dobby. A turkey sandwich and water will be enough for me," Harry advanced. A loud snap of his fingers produced both meals on the table with a fine line of steam rising from the soup. Harry paused thoughtfully before hesitantly asking, "Would you like to join us for lunch, Dobby?" Harry looked questioningly at Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall smiled primly at the house-elf before compounding Harry's request, "I have no reservations against you joining us, Dobby." The house-elf in question looked absolutely flabbergasted.

"Oh, Harry Potter is so kind, so noble, so generous! Dobby is not worthy to eat at Harry Potter's table. Dobby has armor to be polishing and floors for scrubbing at Hogwarts," Dobby cried, bowing deeply while he scrubbed tears from his eyes. He stood up and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

Professor McGonagall gazed at Harry with pride in her eyes. "That was a very nice thing to do, Harry. I will be leaving this bell in your possession for the rest of the summer. I think both you and Dobby could gain from each other's company. At the very least, you will be well fed," she finished with a smile.

Harry opened his mouth a second before he said, "Thank you, Professor!" Harry paused before finishing with a sigh, "... I wish I had this last year."

McGonagall nodded in agreement. They ate in silence. Professor McGonagall was lost in thought and Harry was loath to distract her. Harry finished first and patiently nursed his glass of water while Professor McGonagall finished her soup.

"Tell me, Harry," Professor McGonagall asked carefully, "Have you ever entertained the thought of becoming an Animagus?"

Harry spit out his water in shock. "What?!"

"I know you are aware that your father as well as Sirius Black were both Animagi, and I thought you may have considered following in their footsteps," she continued.

"Well yeah, of course I have, but I promise I haven't actually done anything to become an Animagus! I don't even know where to start," Harry promised.

Professor McGonagall folded her hands and fixed him with a steady gaze as she addressed him. "I am glad to hear that, Mr. Potter, and given the events of last year, I believe you absolutely. However, I still think that you would begin this road yourself in coming years, if you find the opportunity... with or without supervision. I have brought with me the necessary instruments to determine whether or not you have the ability. If you do possess it, I will agree to guide you so long as you promise not to overstep or countermand my instruction."

Harry swallowed. Animagus training! From Professor McGonagall herself! Who was he to turn her down? "I'd love to, Professor! When can we start!?"

"Right now, of course," was her answer. She lifted her wand from its place on the table and Vanished the empty dishes, glasses, and the tablecloth with a wave of her wand.

Harry looked at her curiously. "Where did you Vanish them to, Professor?"

"I am glad you remember your reading, Harry. I Vanished them to a certain cupboard in the Hogwarts kitchens where all the dirty dishes go before they are cleaned." She dug through her traveling bag once again and pulled out a large piece of parchment which she spread over the entire table. This was followed by a vial of a silvery liquid that looked very much like memories in a pensive, only thinner. Professor McGonagall smoothed out the parchment before dumping the vial's contents onto the center of the parchment. She re-corked the empty vial and stuffed it back into her bag.

"The first step towards becoming an Animagus is to discover if you can be one in the first place, and if you can, this will show what your form is." She gestured towards the table before lecturing on, "That was revelation pigment that I poured onto the parchment. There is a spell you may cast that will cause it to paint your form onto the parchment. It is perfectly legal and cannot be detected by the Improper Use of Magic Office because no magic actually leaves the union of your wand and body. All you must now do is clear your mind of everything but the incantation, 'Animalem Into Acclarā' while holding the tip of your wand to your forehead. It shall record the animal you see in your mind's eye. Once you have completed the incantation, you will remove your wand and place the wand tip in the revelation pigment. Provided you have cast the spell correctly, your form will be painted on the parchment. If you cast the spell correctly the tip of your wand should glow a very light blue."

Harry blinked. "Err, should I try the spell now?"

"Yes, please do," McGonagall watched him expectantly. "Remember, pronounce the incantation very clearly, An-Im-malem In-to Ac-Claraa. Clear your mind and concentrate."

Harry did his best and several times images of a bird or snake flashed in his mind's eye. On the seventh try he saw both and finally the tip of his wand was illuminated. "Well done Harry, now dip it in the pigment," McGonagall instructed. Harry proceeded, and the feathery liquid ghosted out across the parchment before it settled into a writhing blob that began flashing colors before sinking into the parchment and leaving a framed moving picture in the center that was surrounded by a maelstrom of colors. At first the central picture showed a blue-gray bird of prey in mid-dive. The bird had startling blue eyes and was approximately 10 inches long. It flattened out into a glide over a field of grass before landing upon a branch in a lonely willow tree. After a moment, the image changed to a four foot long, white-skinned, blue-eyed snake in a blank background. Slowly the background changed to a dry desert plain. As the background changed so did the color of the snake's skin until it was difficult to see where the desert ended and the snake began. The background continued to change environments and the snake changed with them from the ground of a meadow to the inside of a manor house and on to others. It always changed to blend in perfectly.

Harry was flummoxed. "What does this mean, Professor? Which form is mine?"

McGonagall looked back at Harry with a mixture of amazement and pride. "Both are, Harry. I do not know what sort of bird the first one is, but the second is a chameleon snake. I will have to bring this to Hagrid for a more positive identification. Do you mind if I tell him about you? Professor Dumbledore will certainly need to know."

Harry bit his lip consideringly while he fought the last vestiges of his shock. "I don't mind if you tell Professor Dumbledore, but please don't tell Hagrid. He's one of my greatest friends, but sometimes he just can't keep his mouth shut," Harry replied.

Professor McGonagall nodded in understanding. She quickly wrapped up the parchment and slipped it back into her travel bag before rooting out some books. She continued to talk while she stuffed her bag. "I have never heard of a case where a person had two Animagus forms. Perhaps it's because of your scar? I will ask Professor Dumbledore. In any case, Harry," she lifted the books out of the bag and looked him straight in the eye while she set them down, "you will have to promise me that for every hour you prepare for your initial transformation you will spend at least one hour on your other summer assignments." She finished with her hands on her hips and shooting him a look that dared him to dispute her.

Harry stepped back from her gaze and paused a moment before answering. Professor McGonagall's gaze hardened and she opened her mouth before Harry hurriedly assured her, "Yes, I promise. I'll study my other subjects as much as I do the Animagus transformation until I've done all the assignments."

McGonagall looked mollified and touched the two books she had stacked upon the table. "Make sure to read Your Magic and You first before Finding the Animal Within. When I return tomorrow I will bring you a few references pertaining to your forms. You had best have a few inches of my essay done by then as well."

Harry agreed reluctantly, "I'll try my best, Professor," he replied. "Isn't there anything I can do other than read to get ready?" Harry looked pleadingly up to his Transfiguration professor.

Professor McGonagall gave Harry a thoughtful glance. "You can try some of the demonstrations in Your Magic and You. Just be sure to do the ones where none of your magic leaves your body, else you might find yourself expelled. Under normal circumstances, I would not even bring this for you. However, Professor Dumbledore thinks it best that you are as prepared as possible to face any dangers that may come your way.. Again, remember that the Ministry will detect any magic that you allow to escape from your body and we suspect that they are eager to prosecute you. There now, that should certainly be enough to keep you busy for the time being."

It certainly was. After Professor McGonagall left, Harry immediately opened Your Magic and You and began to read.

The first question any intellectual wizard might ask before studying magic should be "What is magic?" This question could be quickly followed by "How do I use magic?" as well as "Where does it come from?"

The answer to these two of these questions can be made relatively simple. Magic is produced largely, perhaps entirely, within the centers of our bones. We control our magic through exercising our will upon it. The answer to the first question, however, is more complex.

There are several things that magic is. Everyone is a product of the magic within them as much as anything else. Magic is a force that, if properly manipulated and directed, makes your will reality. Our magic mirrors our emotions because in a sense it carries them. Our magic has memory for events that shape our character and forms also shape our magic. Magic is immortal. Anything done with it will stay so until it is changed or undone. These are some of the more obvious examples of what magic can be and can readily be seen by the most casual observer. There are whole bodies of magic that rely on careful manipulation of your magic to influence the above cases.

A few common techniques that require the intense study of your personal magic include occlumency, self-transfiguration, legilimency, the study and modification of the senses, magical displacement and amplification, and others. To begin to understand how to harness your magic you must...

Harry was utterly enthralled. This sort of education should be required for all Hogwarts students. He continued to read the afternoon away and only paused when the front door crashed and a newly returned Dudley bellowed from the downstairs hall, "I'm hungry! Get me something to eat, Mum!"

Harry marked his place with a scrap of parchment and laid Your Magic and You down before standing up from his desk and stretching. After he cracked every bone in his back, he walked over to what had settled for his meal table the last few days and rang the hand-bell.

Dobby immediately appeared. "Harry Potter, sir! How can Dobby be helping Harry Potter?"

Harry smiled at the house-elf. "Dobby, I am sorry, but I think I will have to bother you for most of my meals this summer. I was wondering... would you like to join me sometimes when I eat?"

Dobby looked absolutely scandalized. His green tennis ball eyes stared abject horror at Harry. "Dobby couldn't ... Dobby wouldn't... Dobby can't eat with Harry Potter. Bad Dobby! How can he even think himself worthy to eat at Harry Potter's table? Bad Dobby!" Dobby clutched a table leg in his thin hands and immediately started throwing his head against it. He hit the table so hard that it began to bounce. Harry was sure the racket could be heard loud and clear all the way in the living room, so he wasn't surprised when Aunt Petunia appeared in a huff shortly after Dobby started.

She stopped cold once she entered his room. "What the devil have you done?" she managed.

Harry shrugged before sitting. "One of the people watching me decided that my room was unacceptable and decided to remodel it. I told you they were watching me more closely this summer. I think they are very angry with you and are looking for a reason to do something." Harry looked at his aunt expectantly before turning to Dobby.

"Dobby, if it isn't too much trouble, do you think you could arrange my dinner now?" Harry asked, thinking of the most elaborate yet edible dish he could. At Dobby's assent Harry continued, "I think I would like some of the beef pot roast, the chicken caesar salad with the spicy croutons, a baked potato with everything on it, and a nice piece of the German chocolate cake with a scoop of non-melting vanilla ice cream for desert."

Dobby let go of the table leg and nodded dizzily at Harry. "Dobby will go fetch Harry Potter's dinner"; he took a woozy step before he disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

"Wha... you have a servant now?!? What is that thing?" Petunia goggled.

"He is a house-elf and his name is Dobby. A lot of wizards have them. Dead useful, saves them the trouble of cooking and cleaning and all that," Harry waved dismissively. "I suspect I won't be having any more meals with you this summer." Harry grinned inwardly.

His Aunt Petunia scowled before spitting, "At least we won't have you stealing from our table this summer!"

Dobby reappeared with a pop. "Food is ready Harry Potter. Dobby has it being kept warm in kitchen for when Harry Potter is ready to be eating," he told Harry in his squeaky voice.

Harry shot a smug look at his aunt. "Now would be perfect, Dobby."

With a snap of Dobby's fingers, the meal appeared. A small cloud of steam escaped the central black pot of the arrangement as Dobby revealed the perfectly cooked roast. Aunt Petunia's mouth dropped at the sight before she turned her suddenly malevolent eyes at Harry. "Snap of your fingers and there it is. Your kind have no respect for a good honest day's work! It's no wonder you freaks are always so vile, lazy and nasty!" She turned her back on Harry and marched out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Harry blinked then looked at Dobby. "How could she speak so of good Harry Potter? Dobby knows Harry is a good wizard!" Dobby stated with authority.

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry colored under the praise. "Umm... Can I have some pumpkin juice, please?" With a snap of Dobby's fingers, a large goblet full of the orange liquid appeared.

"Dobby will be going now, unless Harry Potter is wanting something else?" Dobby asked.

Harry looked down at Dobby thoughtfully before replying, "If it's no trouble, can you please come back in thirty minutes to take the dirty dishes? I can't Vanish them to the kitchen yet."

Dobby bowed, "Dobby will be seeing you in thirty minutes then, Harry Potter." Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Harry ate in silence. His head felt crammed full of thoughts so that he didn't know what to think of next. He was going to learn how to become an Animagus! Likewise, he had a lot of homework to do, but it looked to be interesting. It would be great to know how to vanish things. He thought of Dobby and how well he had taken to freedom. He seemed so happy... so unlike Winky was last year.

Vernon pulled in the drive while Harry was finishing his cake and ice cream. The master of the Dursley household entered to shouts and exclamations. Harry couldn't hear exactly what was being said and didn't care. They wouldn't dare do anything to him now.

Harry made his way to bed shortly after Dobby cleaned away the dishes and packed up Harry's dirty laundry for washing at Hogwarts. He pulled out Intermediate Transfiguration and read while the Dursley household slowly drifted through dinner and television before they finally went to sleep. Harry soon followed them, and, unlike last night, his dreams were anything but tame.

o ------ o ------ o

AN: Next Chapter : Dark Dreamin'

This chapter was beta'd by Lisa and Fuzzbutt. Please make sure to thank them in your reviews, for without their efforts, my work wouldn't be as great as it is.

I have a yahoo group where you can discuss the story and find my ff.net review responses, links to materials I used when writing the story, and fragments of developing chapters. The address is:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HP_Power_of_Blood

For those who are curious, the latin translation for the revealing spell is:

Animalem Into Acclarā = Reveal the Animal within