Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Universe.

Harry Potter and the Completely Normal Seventh Year

By Shadowatom

Chapter 1

It was chaos.

Pure, unadulterated chaos.

Harry sat in the living room of The Burrow with Hermione, revelling in the long-held tradition of pre-Hogwarts mayhem in the Weasley household. He and Hermione exchanged an amused glance as they sipped their tea, Molly Weasley's shrill voice cutting through the thumps and frantic footsteps from upstairs.

It was the morning of September First, the first day of Harry, Hermione, and Ron's seventh and final year as students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the Hogwarts Express was set to leave King's Cross station in less than an hour. Ron and Ginny had only just woken up, and both were now scrambling to pack all of their things.

Harry had learned to listen to Hermione long ago and, like her, had packed the night before, trunks safely shrunken and secured in Hermione's magically expanded mokeskin pouch. The two best friends sat closely on the couch but neither spoke, preferring to sit and listen to the now-familiar cacophony of The Burrow, simply enjoying each other's company.

Harry was quite happy to say that, after defeating Lord Voldemort at the end of his sixth year, he had had the most stress-free summer of his entire life. He spent time with his friends, even staying over at Hermione's house for several weeks and travelling around Europe with his godfather, Sirius Black. The threat of Voldemort was now eliminated, and Harry was finally free to grow without the constant threat of death weighing down his shoulders.

He had shot up like a weed over the past few months, and although he, Hermione, and Sirius had gone on an exhausting five-hour shopping spree at the beginning of the summer, they were forced to repeat the venture several days ago, as almost none of the clothes fit Harry properly anymore.

Not that Harry was complaining, really. He had finally reached what he proudly deemed as a respectable height for a teenage boy.

Shaking himself from his musings, he glanced at his best friend. Hermione was staring into space, a faraway look in her eyes, absently sipping her tea. Harry was struck by the way her once-bushy hair flowed in graceful waves and perfectly framed her face. Harry felt his own face flush at his thoughts, but he shook them away. Thinking about Sirius had given him an idea, and he knew Hermione would be all for it.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said. She jerked, turning to him in surprise, and a faint blush rose to her face as she caught his laugh at her reaction. She gave a little chuckle along with him, and sighed.

"Sorry, Harry. I'm just…thinking," she tried to explain her inattentiveness. She rolled her eyes at his disbelieving look, but she knew he wouldn't press her.

"Well I hope you didn't hurt yourself." he grinned impishly. "Ow!" he cried out dramatically, rubbing his shoulder in feigned hurt. She rolled her eyes again and scoffed, though she couldn't hold back a smile at his antics.

Returning her smile, Harry leaned back and relaxed into the couch, laying his arm across the back. She took the opening and settled against his side, leaning her head lightly on his chest. His hand automatically rose up from the back of the couch to gently stroke her hair, and she hummed in contentment.

"I was thinking," he started, "and no, I didn't hurt myself either, thank you very much." She snorted and reached up to flick his nose.

"Well, Mr. Potter," she said in a posh accent, "please do enlighten me." He grinned at her.

"I was thinking that we should try to become Animagi. And not like the way the Marauders did it, with the ritual and the potion and everything. The longer way, with meditation and shite."

Hermione drew back a little and stared at him in surprise, not even bothering to berate him for swearing. Defeating Voldemort had left him with a surprisingly vulgar vocabulary, for reasons not many understood. Privately, Harry had told Hermione and Sirius that he felt much more teenager-y by swearing at least every other sentence. Thankfully, he had agreed to tone it down around Hermione.

"What?" he asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze. His hand had followed her movement as she pulled away from him, and it now rested comfortably on the back of her neck.

The feeling of his hand on her neck gave Hermione all sorts of butterflies and fluttery feelings, but she refused to let it show on her face. "Nothing, Harry," she said, relaxing back into him. "I was just surprised, is all. You know a bit more about the process than I thought you would."

Harry blushed despite himself. "I've been doing a bit of light reading," he emphasized, chuckling at Hermione's soft slap against his chest, "and I've been talking to Sirius about it. He said that once they found out about Remus' 'furry little problem', they didn't want to waste any time in helping him out by becoming Animagi. He mentioned that the more difficult method involves a lot of 'communing with nature' and 'inner peace', whatever that means, but it would allow us a better connection with our form and even potentially some skills gained as a human."

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked curiously, absently taking a hold of the hand not currently stroking her hair and twining their fingers together.

"Well," Harry said slowly, searching for a good example, "imagine Snape takes the form of a bat." Hermione snorted at this, drawing a laugh from Harry. "If he became an Animagus the way my dad, Sirius, and the rat did, he and his bat form would exist as almost two separate entities. Aside from transforming, he wouldn't interact with his bat form at all.

"On the other hand, if he were to go about it through meditation and connecting with nature, he would be coexisting with the bat within him, almost like a symbiotic relationship. They accept each other as one, and as a result, Snape might gain an underdeveloped ability to use echolocation or something like that. I think it'd be bloody useful if we could get something like that. I just wish I'd thought of it earlier…" he trailed off, looking somewhat frustrated.

"You're right, Harry," Hermione said after a prolonged silence, "it would have been quite useful against Voldemort. However," she said sharply, as Harry had opened his mouth to interrupt, obviously angry with himself for not thinking of it earlier, "it would have been impractical. You're saying it would take a really long time to achieve that sort of bond with your animal, and even then it wouldn't be guaranteed. I agree that being an Animagus could have been very beneficial, but we didn't have the time nor did we have the presence of mind to accomplish such a feat, given the circumstances."

Harry let out an explosive sigh and leaned his head against hers, giving her hand a slight squeeze. "You're right, of course," he replied with a small smirk. She squeezed back, and he felt a smile stretch across her face.

"Anyway," he resumed his explanation, "I think it would be bloody awesome, and it would also be a good side project for Transfiguration. Maybe McGonagall or our NEWT examiners will give us extra credit," he added thoughtfully.

"That would be pretty amazing, Harry," Hermione said, quietly proud that Harry was willing to work for extra credit. "Although it would be a bit difficult to find the time, what with NEWTs and our Head duties."

Harry had been utterly floored when his Hogwarts letter was accompanied by the Head Boy badge, though few shared his surprise. Hermione had rolled her eyes and logically recounted all of his heroic deeds and vastly improved marks since the beginning of fifth year. She had also calmly explained to him with fond exasperation that no, he didn't need to be a prefect to be the Head Boy; yes, she would help him learn about and understand his duties; yes, of course the students will listen to him and respect him ("You're Harry bloody Potter for Merlin's sake!" Ron had exclaimed).

"That won't be a problem," Harry shrugged, unconcerned. "We've probably been through the entire bloody seventh year curriculum, Hermione. This year will mostly be just review for us."

It was true. The past two years had been spent training and preparing for his inevitable confrontation with Voldemort. After witnessing Cedric's death and being used for Voldemort's resurrection at the end of his fourth year, Harry had vowed to finally heed Hermione's assertions that he should put more effort into his studies. Through rigorous self-study, Harry, with Hermione's help, flew through the fifth year OWL curriculum and even picking up Ancient Runes, which he thoroughly enjoyed.

Ron, bless his heart, tried his best to keep up, but he just wasn't suited to the intense academic life his two best friends had taken on. He knew his strengths, and his weaknesses, so he accepted the situation for what it was and did his best to help the two learn what they needed to. However, that's not to say he didn't improve his grades as well. While Hermione was a veritable library of information that she could recite nearly on command, Harry had a talent for explaining ideas and concepts in a way that was easier for Ron to understand.

Harry's explanation would give Ron a good basis of information, which would then help Ron grasp the complexities that Hermione would expand upon. All in all, it was a great system, though it had its flaws, and the Golden Trio progressed quickly.

By the time their OWL exams arrived, Harry and Hermione had progressed well into the sixth year NEWT curriculum. Harry had convinced Professor McGonagall to let him drop Divination under the condition that he provide her evidence of his independent study of Runes. He had ended up with Outstandings in every subject he tested in except Herbology, in which he scored Exceeds Expectations, and History of Magic and Astronomy, in which he had received Acceptables. That was to be expected, as he, Ron, and Hermione had decided to focus on more practical subjects.

When Harry was able to duel Voldemort to a standstill that lasted several minutes at the end of his fifth year, saving Sirius and his friends, Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix finally caved and began training him. By the time Voldemort led an attack on the castle at the end of sixth year, Harry and Hermione had progressed through nearly the entire seventh year NEWT curriculum in most subjects, and had moved deep into Auror training.

When Harry confronted Voldemort by himself before the Dark Lord's forces could reach the castle (Harry was of course given an extremely emotional verbal dressing-down from Hermione, Sirius, and the Weasleys for going off on his own), Voldemort allowed for a duel.

He was caught by surprise at Harry's knowledge and sheer skill and power, and it nearly cost him within the first thirty seconds. He was furious when Harry managed to land a nasty cutting curse on his left cheek, and he threw increasingly Dark spells at Harry, recklessly casting curse after curse. It was this ironically Gryffindor-ish offense that gave Harry the opening he so desperately needed, after nearly thirty minutes of constant movement and casting.

Several months back, Hermione had discovered a potentially useful spell in the Black library in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Upon further research, it turned out that the spell was crafted using the Dispelling Charm, Finite Incantatem, as a base. The spell was used primarily to dispel wards and other, more powerful charms and spells that a simple Finite Incantatem could not handle but Hermione theorized that it could be repurposed and reinvented to strip someone of their magic.

She spent weeks holed up in the library, furiously jotting down Arithmantic equations and immersing herself into the study of magical theory. Finally, after nearly two months of constant research and little sleep, Hermione was able to strip down the spell to its magical essence and rebuild it, modifying the wand movement and the incantation. The result was a spell that had the potential to sever the target's connection with his or her magic. Permanently.

With the theoretical portion complete, Harry and Hermione had to shift their focus to the practical aspect of magic. In this case, the spell Hermione created required an incredible amount of power and an extremely focused and concentrated intent. As there was no way to practice the spell, the two had to content themselves with constant drilling of the theory, practicing the wand movement, and substituting other spells that required similar amounts of power and intent.

In the end, as Harry would later insist, it all came down to luck. Voldemort, in his rage, neglected to keep notice of his surroundings, his focus entirely on Harry, who was ducking, dodging, weaving, and shielding like his life depended on it (which it did). Voldemort's lack of spatial awareness led to his downfall when he tripped on a large mound of dirt as he advanced on an exhausted Harry Potter. Voldemort righted himself quickly of course, barely showing he had tripped at all, but that slight moment of distraction was all Harry needed.

With renewed vigor and an astonishing speed that caught Voldemort by surprise, Harry let out a chain of spells, forcing Voldemort to physically avoid Harry's spells rather than shield. He recognized the power Harry had pushed into those spells, and Voldemort was not stupid enough to believe that his shield, while far stronger than most, wouldn't be able to withstand an overpowered onslaught from Harry.

Unfortunately for Voldemort, however, he had underestimated Harry yet again. As the final spell left Harry's wand, Terminum Ultima Magicae, Voldemort was dodging on instinct, and with his graceful twirl away from Harry's penultimate spell, a nasty bone-breaker, Voldemort was caught in the chest with the Magic-Removal spell that Hermione had created.

The effect was immediate. Voldemort let out a blood-curdling scream as he felt magic - his magic - leave him. However, Harry and Hermione hadn't realized that magic was the only thing sustaining the monstrous body Voldemort had created, and the body, as soon as the connection was severed, began to decompose rapidly, turning into dust. As Harry slumped to his knees in exhaustion, he breathed a sigh of relief as all the marked Death Eaters clutched their arms in agony as the poisonous magic that kept them bound to their master forced its way out.

Harry was broken from his musings with a sharp poke in the side from Hermione, who was looking at him in amusement.

"Alright, Harry?" she asked, laughing as he tickled her back.

"I'm fine, Hermione; just thinking," he responded. "And yes, I may have strained my tiny brain in the process." Her laughter rang beautifully in his ears, and he grinned along with her. "Anyway, as I was saying," he started after her laughter had diminished, "Sirius gave me a list of the books he remembered from researching the process." He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a folded slip of parchment, which he handed to Hermione.

He watched as Hermione unfolded the parchment and skimmed the long list of titles written in Sirius' surprisingly neat handwriting. Harry's eyes drifted to her face and he took in her slightly furrowed brow and wrinkled nose as she tried to recall whether or not she'd seen or heard of the books. Harry closed his eyes and relaxed as she bit her bottom lip in concentration, choosing instead to focus on the feel of her soft hair in between his fingers as he continued his ministrations.

Their peace in the storm that was the Burrow was soon interrupted, however, when Ginny came rushing down the stairs, Ron hot on her tail. Hermione's head jerked up at the unexpected sound, and smiled when she saw the two youngest Weasleys. Gently, she grasped Harry's left hand, the one that was stroking her hair, and looked at his watch. Nodding in approval, she stood up, neatly refolding the booklist and placing it in her jacket pocket.

"Half an hour to spare. Not bad, Weasleys," she grinned as she offered Harry a hand off the couch. Taking Hermione's outstretched hand, Harry stood up next to her, though neither released their hold. Eyes comically wide, Harry stared at Ron and Ginny in surprise.

"Half an hour? That has to be some kind of record!" Harry said jokingly as he and Hermione joined the redheads by the front door. Ron puffed out his chest in mock pride.

"Thank you, thank you very much," he postured, even going so far as to bow deeply at the waist, which sent his companions into a fit of laughter.

As Hermione shrank Ron and Ginny's trunks, Molly Weasley came bustling in from the kitchen, wasting no time in ushering them out the front door. Harry, Hermione, and Ron, having recently earned their Apparition Licenses, Apparated themselves to King's Cross Station, while Mrs. Weasley Side-Along Apparated Ginny.

When the party of five arrived at the Platform Nine and Three-Quarters Apparition Point, they quickly moved aside to avoid any unintentional obstruction for other Apparating families. Harry took a moment to just stand and stare at the platform, watching Hogwarts students and their families arrive and socialize before boarding the train.

He took in the familiarity of the scene, smiling contentedly. He took a deep breath, and with a glance behind him at his family, his eyes came to rest on Hermione, who smiled back in happiness and support. She took his hand and they stepped into the fray, preparing for their final year at Hogwarts.