Title: Twining Transformations
Author: S.Malfoy
Disclaimer: These are not my characters, they are J.K Rowling's, and I make no money off of them whatsoever. However, it is my plot (at least hopefully haha).
It is a slash between SS/HP, seen later in the story, so you are warned.
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Chapter 1
The Transformation
October
"Mr. Longbottom," Professor Severus Snape sighed, "once again you have managed to mess up a simple transformation potion."
No one was especially surprised at the revelation, as Neville's experiment had turned black and puffed an especially noxious cloud of purple.
"I'm sure it turned out okay," Harry whispered to Ron, trying to give Neville some quiet support.
"Okay, Mr. Potter? How can it be okay when the rest of the class has a calm and turquoise colored potion, and Mr. Longbottom has the exact opposite?" Snape asked, striding to stand menacingly over the frame of Harry Potter.
Seventh year in Potions, and I still am intimidated, Harry groaned silently, while glaring outwardly at the Potions Master with a scarlet blush.
"It doesn't seem that bad..." Harry trailed, trying to discourage the evil glare Snape was sending his way.
"That bad? That bad?" Snape asked incredulously. When Harry looked over at the potion, he knew it was a weak excuse. It was a color resembling pitch black darkness, bubbling and burping great heaves of violet smoke.
"Well, Mr. Potter? If you're so sure of the accuracy of Mr. Longbottom's potion, how about a taste test?" The moment Snape spoke, the potion coughed and spit out the ladle that sat dormant in the cauldron.
"Well..." Harry stalled. He didn't really want to take the potion, but he couldn't lose face in front of the Slytherins. "Fine," he mumbled. "I'll do it."
Conscious of the dumbfounded stares he was receiving from all of his classmates, including Neville, he walked cautiously over to the bubbling cauldron.
"You don't have to do this Harry," Neville whispered brokenly beside him. "I know I screwed it up."
"Don't worry Neville, I have faith in you," Harry said, patting Neville's back before scooping up a new ladle that had replaced the one spit out of the cauldron.
Scooping up the bubbling, burping potion, he waited a moment for it to cool before holding his nose and throwing it down his throat.
For a moment nothing happened. "See? It's OK..." Harry said hopefully.
The next moment, black and purple smoke began swirling dramatically around Harry's body before disappearing and revealing a pile of clothing and nesting in the middle was an elegant eagle preening its feathers. It had pitch black feathers, an enormous wing span, its beak a deep ebony color, and its claws filled with razor sharp talons. The only color visibly seen was the shocking white lightening bolt slashes across its forehead and dipping between its serpent-like yellow eyes. Letting out a high pitched screech it flew upwards to land on the shoulder of the Potions professor.
The class let out a shocked gasp at both the stunning transformation and the movement of the bird to sit upon the broad shoulders of the mean- spirited teacher.
Neville whimpered in fear at both turning Harry into a bird and the repercussions that it involved – his housemates were going to kill him for sure. His lips trembled and he tried valiantly to keep the tears at bay. "I'm sorry Harry," he squeaked, twisting his chubby hands together.
"Mr. Longbottom, please try to control yourself. The potion worked perfectly," Snape said smoothly, silencing the whole class who had broken out into excited murmurs.
"W-w-what?" Neville stuttered, amazed his potion could do something like that to Harry.
"Look, Potty really is a bird-brain," Malfoy interrupted, snorting with laughter, and pointing at the bird resting comfortably on Snape's shoulders.
Harry, hearing the comment lunged from his perch and grabbed a hold of Malfoy's finger, chomping hard and dangling from the appendage. With a sickening crunch, the finger came off in his beak, and Harry fell to the floor victoriously. The class, horrified by the blood squirting out of his missing finger, collapsed to the ground as a whole except for Hermione, Crabbe, and Goyle. Malfoy gave one shriek before fainting himself.
Snape leaned down, and taking the finger away from Harry's beak, held it out to Goyle. "Please take Mr. Malfoy and his finger to Madame Pomfrey."
Goyle only nodded dumbly, and hoisting Malfoy over his shoulder, left the room with Draco's finger.
When the class re-awakened they were relieved to find all of the mess gone.
"Now, as I was saying...you did indeed do a transformation potion, but instead of using the hibiscus seeds, you used the flowers, Mr. Longbottom. And when you put the flowers in, you had diced them horizontally instead of vertically. And then when you stirred the potion, instead of a figure eight, you stirred it clockwise. So congratulations on performing the 'Transfiguration Transformation', but you get no marks for the assignment. Class dismissed, and please inform your Head of House to come see me, Mr. Longbottom." With that little speech finished, he calmly lifted the bird off of his shoulders onto his forearm and held the eagle out for inspection.
"Well, isn't that curious," he muttered, poking at the ruffled breastbone of the bird.
"What's curious?" Hermione Granger asked hesitantly and the loyal sidekick, Ron Weasley, at her side, as the rest of the class hurriedly shuffled out.
"The fact that Harry will remain a bird for six months," Snape smirked.
"Oh no! Now Harry will never have enough time to study for his N.E.W.T.S!" Hermione cried, looking at the bird held regally on the outstretched arm.
"Exactly. And he has his own stupidity to thank for that," Snape said, disgusted.
"Well, you were the one-" Ron began heatedly, but was cut off by an elbow from Hermione.
"You were saying?" Snape asked silkily, his voice lowering dangerously.
"Nothing," he mumbled, looking away.
"That's right," he said softly, unconsciously petting the bird that was beginning to make its way back onto his shoulder.
Hermione withheld her gasp, watching the play between Harry the bird and her professor.
"Come on Ron, we have to go tell Dumbledore," she said abruptly, turning to leave without another word.
The bird let out a shrill call before sitting silently on its perch on the Potions Master.
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"Ah, Professor Snape. So good of you to come quickly," Albus Dumbledore said gently, motioning for him to take a seat. "Lemon drop?" Albus offered congenially, holding the box tin outstretched.
"No, thank you," Snape murmured.
Fawkes awoke at that moment, and noting the bird still sitting docilely on Snape's shoulder, let out a shrill greeting. Leaping into the air, it flapped its way cautiously over to the Phoenix's perch, careful not to knock Severus in the head in his flight. The resulting wind of air from the eagle's large wingspan was enough to blow Snape's hair backward and Albus' beard over his shoulder.
Dumbledore watched the bird carefully. "Is he alright?" he asked his Potions Master quietly.
The bird, seeming to hear the question, let out a small trill, and turned his head to Fawkes, communicating silently through eye contact.
"I think he just answered for himself," Snape replied stiffly, for some reason missing the weight on his shoulder, though he tried desperately to squelch the feeling.
"How long will he stay like that?" Dumbledore questioned, returning his attention to Snape.
"Until April at the earliest," he said, running his eyes over his feathered student. "I've already tested one of the feathers, to make sure, while Minerva was present."
"There is no way to alter the potion?"
"Of course not. If there had been, I would have done so already," Snape snapped briskly.
"Hmm. I heard a curious recounting of the tale from Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger earlier. Care to comment?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes resuming their trademark twinkle.
"Mr. Potter had to learn the foolishness of depending on his friends to closely. If he continues to do so, with such blinded faith, it could one day get him killed," Snape snarled, his hands clenching around the seat handles.
"Caw?" the bird asked, tilting his head quizzically at the Potions Master.
"Of course...but if he trusts no one then how will that help him?" Albus questioned, trailing off.
Severus squirmed guiltily in his chair but raised his chin in defiance, staying silent.
"I find his transformation quite intriguing indeed," Albus said with a small smile playing about his lips while he fiddled with his beard, changing the subject.
"There is nothing strange about it," Severus said with a sniff.
"If you say so Severus," Albus murmured. He turned his head and met the gaze of the newly changed Harry and smiled sadly. Harry hopped off of the perch and crawled along the desktop to sit in front of Albus, playing with the white beard that fell across the glossy albeit cluttered top, soothing hums emitting from his throat.
Albus smiled gently, and ran his fingers through the feathers of the black eagle in front of him. "He shall have to stay with you of course," Albus said, his voice implacable.
"Oh, but surely the Owlery would be fine..." Severus started to argue, but fell silent when the blue eyes that looked at him hardened slightly.
"Outside is too dangerous for Harry. He will be protected at all costs."
"Yes, Headmaster."
--------------------
Severus was given a perch, a food dish and water bowl, and various toys for Harry's entertainment while down in the dungeons. While in bird form, the chilly dampness did not seem to irritate the bird, nor did it seem to think much about living underground.
"Of course I get saddled with his stupidity. I'm punished for his mistakes, as usual, the insolent brat. That conniving..." his voice slipped into low mumbling while Harry watched curiously from the upper rafters of the dungeon.
Harry chuckled gleefully at the irate Potions Master, and looking longingly at the door, fluttered down to his perch. Severus happened to be standing close by, and the wind ruffled his gleaming hair – though whether it was just silky or really greasy, only Harry would ever know.
"Git," Severus muttered childishly.
"Pat," the bird returned.
"What did you call me?" Severus turned, looking wrathfully at the bird.
"Caw?" it asked quizzically, making his eyes widely innocent.
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Severus screeched, sounding amazingly like a bird for a moment, before blushing at his own foolishness.
The bird huffed in silent laughter, before grabbing a rubber snake in its mouth and tearing it apart with his beak and talons.
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It was an odd sight indeed to see Harry perched upon the shoulder of their professor at each Potion's Class, but no body dared to say a word.
Draco tried to stay as far away as possible from the bird, shuddering each time he even laid eyes upon the attack eagle. He still moaned about the scar he had on the knuckle of his index finger from where it had fallen off.
Harry would sit calmly throughout all the mayhem, and even enjoyed the mutual feeling of power Snape radiated. He took pleasure the billowing entrances they made, with either Harry sitting on his shoulder imperiously or following Snape from behind, his wing tips grazing the doorway.
After one of the many Potion classes, Hermione and Ron stayed behind, walking up to the desk where Snape sat, hunched over his grading and Harry sat on the desk, as still as a statue.
"Caw," Harry greeted, his head dipping in a nod.
"Heya Harry," Ron greeted, petting him on his feathered head.
"What do you want?" Snape asked bluntly, setting aside his quill for a brief moment to give them both an Evil Glare.
"Professor Snape, we were wondering why Harry can't stay up in the Gryffindor dormitories anymore."
"Because it would not be safe for him, as per Headmaster Dumbledore's orders," Snape answered shortly.
"But I'm sure Harry wants to be in the Gryffindor towers, don't you Harry?" Ron asked.
Harry the bird blanched as three set of eyes were upon him.
"Tweet?" he asked with a shrug.
"He cannot, it is out of the question. Now get out of my classroom if you want a detention, both of you," he ordered menacingly, pointing towards the archway.
Silent eyes watched their hasty retreat before dark met yellow. The bird causally shrugged at the glance and went back to preening his feathers, settling on his perch at the corner of Snape's desk. Severus stared at the bird for a moment, before shaking his head and getting back to his work.
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"I don't know why I even bother," Snape muttered, shivering in his cloak at the frosty air. "It's not like he appreciates anything I do for him, the idiot boy."
Overhead, a black shadow flew freely in the sky, the moonlight highlighting the lightening bolt on the bird's forehead, the rest of it cloaked in darkness.
Though Severus would never admit it, Harry's animagus form was one of beauty and awe, one that he wished he could take part in.
Looking around, he thought to himself, and why not? It's not like anyone is going to be outside at midnight! And with that, he concentrated hard – as not many Potion Masters ever mastered the animagi transformation; his robes dropped to his feet and his pale skin turning into iridescent white feathers, his eyes as black as the surrounding darkness and his talons the color of pale gold.
Fluttering upwards, he met the eyes of the eagle, and only dipped his head, floating lazily in the brisk night air with a shadow following behind.
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A/N: TBC
Author: S.Malfoy
Disclaimer: These are not my characters, they are J.K Rowling's, and I make no money off of them whatsoever. However, it is my plot (at least hopefully haha).
It is a slash between SS/HP, seen later in the story, so you are warned.
--------------------
Chapter 1
The Transformation
October
"Mr. Longbottom," Professor Severus Snape sighed, "once again you have managed to mess up a simple transformation potion."
No one was especially surprised at the revelation, as Neville's experiment had turned black and puffed an especially noxious cloud of purple.
"I'm sure it turned out okay," Harry whispered to Ron, trying to give Neville some quiet support.
"Okay, Mr. Potter? How can it be okay when the rest of the class has a calm and turquoise colored potion, and Mr. Longbottom has the exact opposite?" Snape asked, striding to stand menacingly over the frame of Harry Potter.
Seventh year in Potions, and I still am intimidated, Harry groaned silently, while glaring outwardly at the Potions Master with a scarlet blush.
"It doesn't seem that bad..." Harry trailed, trying to discourage the evil glare Snape was sending his way.
"That bad? That bad?" Snape asked incredulously. When Harry looked over at the potion, he knew it was a weak excuse. It was a color resembling pitch black darkness, bubbling and burping great heaves of violet smoke.
"Well, Mr. Potter? If you're so sure of the accuracy of Mr. Longbottom's potion, how about a taste test?" The moment Snape spoke, the potion coughed and spit out the ladle that sat dormant in the cauldron.
"Well..." Harry stalled. He didn't really want to take the potion, but he couldn't lose face in front of the Slytherins. "Fine," he mumbled. "I'll do it."
Conscious of the dumbfounded stares he was receiving from all of his classmates, including Neville, he walked cautiously over to the bubbling cauldron.
"You don't have to do this Harry," Neville whispered brokenly beside him. "I know I screwed it up."
"Don't worry Neville, I have faith in you," Harry said, patting Neville's back before scooping up a new ladle that had replaced the one spit out of the cauldron.
Scooping up the bubbling, burping potion, he waited a moment for it to cool before holding his nose and throwing it down his throat.
For a moment nothing happened. "See? It's OK..." Harry said hopefully.
The next moment, black and purple smoke began swirling dramatically around Harry's body before disappearing and revealing a pile of clothing and nesting in the middle was an elegant eagle preening its feathers. It had pitch black feathers, an enormous wing span, its beak a deep ebony color, and its claws filled with razor sharp talons. The only color visibly seen was the shocking white lightening bolt slashes across its forehead and dipping between its serpent-like yellow eyes. Letting out a high pitched screech it flew upwards to land on the shoulder of the Potions professor.
The class let out a shocked gasp at both the stunning transformation and the movement of the bird to sit upon the broad shoulders of the mean- spirited teacher.
Neville whimpered in fear at both turning Harry into a bird and the repercussions that it involved – his housemates were going to kill him for sure. His lips trembled and he tried valiantly to keep the tears at bay. "I'm sorry Harry," he squeaked, twisting his chubby hands together.
"Mr. Longbottom, please try to control yourself. The potion worked perfectly," Snape said smoothly, silencing the whole class who had broken out into excited murmurs.
"W-w-what?" Neville stuttered, amazed his potion could do something like that to Harry.
"Look, Potty really is a bird-brain," Malfoy interrupted, snorting with laughter, and pointing at the bird resting comfortably on Snape's shoulders.
Harry, hearing the comment lunged from his perch and grabbed a hold of Malfoy's finger, chomping hard and dangling from the appendage. With a sickening crunch, the finger came off in his beak, and Harry fell to the floor victoriously. The class, horrified by the blood squirting out of his missing finger, collapsed to the ground as a whole except for Hermione, Crabbe, and Goyle. Malfoy gave one shriek before fainting himself.
Snape leaned down, and taking the finger away from Harry's beak, held it out to Goyle. "Please take Mr. Malfoy and his finger to Madame Pomfrey."
Goyle only nodded dumbly, and hoisting Malfoy over his shoulder, left the room with Draco's finger.
When the class re-awakened they were relieved to find all of the mess gone.
"Now, as I was saying...you did indeed do a transformation potion, but instead of using the hibiscus seeds, you used the flowers, Mr. Longbottom. And when you put the flowers in, you had diced them horizontally instead of vertically. And then when you stirred the potion, instead of a figure eight, you stirred it clockwise. So congratulations on performing the 'Transfiguration Transformation', but you get no marks for the assignment. Class dismissed, and please inform your Head of House to come see me, Mr. Longbottom." With that little speech finished, he calmly lifted the bird off of his shoulders onto his forearm and held the eagle out for inspection.
"Well, isn't that curious," he muttered, poking at the ruffled breastbone of the bird.
"What's curious?" Hermione Granger asked hesitantly and the loyal sidekick, Ron Weasley, at her side, as the rest of the class hurriedly shuffled out.
"The fact that Harry will remain a bird for six months," Snape smirked.
"Oh no! Now Harry will never have enough time to study for his N.E.W.T.S!" Hermione cried, looking at the bird held regally on the outstretched arm.
"Exactly. And he has his own stupidity to thank for that," Snape said, disgusted.
"Well, you were the one-" Ron began heatedly, but was cut off by an elbow from Hermione.
"You were saying?" Snape asked silkily, his voice lowering dangerously.
"Nothing," he mumbled, looking away.
"That's right," he said softly, unconsciously petting the bird that was beginning to make its way back onto his shoulder.
Hermione withheld her gasp, watching the play between Harry the bird and her professor.
"Come on Ron, we have to go tell Dumbledore," she said abruptly, turning to leave without another word.
The bird let out a shrill call before sitting silently on its perch on the Potions Master.
--------------------
"Ah, Professor Snape. So good of you to come quickly," Albus Dumbledore said gently, motioning for him to take a seat. "Lemon drop?" Albus offered congenially, holding the box tin outstretched.
"No, thank you," Snape murmured.
Fawkes awoke at that moment, and noting the bird still sitting docilely on Snape's shoulder, let out a shrill greeting. Leaping into the air, it flapped its way cautiously over to the Phoenix's perch, careful not to knock Severus in the head in his flight. The resulting wind of air from the eagle's large wingspan was enough to blow Snape's hair backward and Albus' beard over his shoulder.
Dumbledore watched the bird carefully. "Is he alright?" he asked his Potions Master quietly.
The bird, seeming to hear the question, let out a small trill, and turned his head to Fawkes, communicating silently through eye contact.
"I think he just answered for himself," Snape replied stiffly, for some reason missing the weight on his shoulder, though he tried desperately to squelch the feeling.
"How long will he stay like that?" Dumbledore questioned, returning his attention to Snape.
"Until April at the earliest," he said, running his eyes over his feathered student. "I've already tested one of the feathers, to make sure, while Minerva was present."
"There is no way to alter the potion?"
"Of course not. If there had been, I would have done so already," Snape snapped briskly.
"Hmm. I heard a curious recounting of the tale from Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger earlier. Care to comment?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes resuming their trademark twinkle.
"Mr. Potter had to learn the foolishness of depending on his friends to closely. If he continues to do so, with such blinded faith, it could one day get him killed," Snape snarled, his hands clenching around the seat handles.
"Caw?" the bird asked, tilting his head quizzically at the Potions Master.
"Of course...but if he trusts no one then how will that help him?" Albus questioned, trailing off.
Severus squirmed guiltily in his chair but raised his chin in defiance, staying silent.
"I find his transformation quite intriguing indeed," Albus said with a small smile playing about his lips while he fiddled with his beard, changing the subject.
"There is nothing strange about it," Severus said with a sniff.
"If you say so Severus," Albus murmured. He turned his head and met the gaze of the newly changed Harry and smiled sadly. Harry hopped off of the perch and crawled along the desktop to sit in front of Albus, playing with the white beard that fell across the glossy albeit cluttered top, soothing hums emitting from his throat.
Albus smiled gently, and ran his fingers through the feathers of the black eagle in front of him. "He shall have to stay with you of course," Albus said, his voice implacable.
"Oh, but surely the Owlery would be fine..." Severus started to argue, but fell silent when the blue eyes that looked at him hardened slightly.
"Outside is too dangerous for Harry. He will be protected at all costs."
"Yes, Headmaster."
--------------------
Severus was given a perch, a food dish and water bowl, and various toys for Harry's entertainment while down in the dungeons. While in bird form, the chilly dampness did not seem to irritate the bird, nor did it seem to think much about living underground.
"Of course I get saddled with his stupidity. I'm punished for his mistakes, as usual, the insolent brat. That conniving..." his voice slipped into low mumbling while Harry watched curiously from the upper rafters of the dungeon.
Harry chuckled gleefully at the irate Potions Master, and looking longingly at the door, fluttered down to his perch. Severus happened to be standing close by, and the wind ruffled his gleaming hair – though whether it was just silky or really greasy, only Harry would ever know.
"Git," Severus muttered childishly.
"Pat," the bird returned.
"What did you call me?" Severus turned, looking wrathfully at the bird.
"Caw?" it asked quizzically, making his eyes widely innocent.
"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Severus screeched, sounding amazingly like a bird for a moment, before blushing at his own foolishness.
The bird huffed in silent laughter, before grabbing a rubber snake in its mouth and tearing it apart with his beak and talons.
--------------------
It was an odd sight indeed to see Harry perched upon the shoulder of their professor at each Potion's Class, but no body dared to say a word.
Draco tried to stay as far away as possible from the bird, shuddering each time he even laid eyes upon the attack eagle. He still moaned about the scar he had on the knuckle of his index finger from where it had fallen off.
Harry would sit calmly throughout all the mayhem, and even enjoyed the mutual feeling of power Snape radiated. He took pleasure the billowing entrances they made, with either Harry sitting on his shoulder imperiously or following Snape from behind, his wing tips grazing the doorway.
After one of the many Potion classes, Hermione and Ron stayed behind, walking up to the desk where Snape sat, hunched over his grading and Harry sat on the desk, as still as a statue.
"Caw," Harry greeted, his head dipping in a nod.
"Heya Harry," Ron greeted, petting him on his feathered head.
"What do you want?" Snape asked bluntly, setting aside his quill for a brief moment to give them both an Evil Glare.
"Professor Snape, we were wondering why Harry can't stay up in the Gryffindor dormitories anymore."
"Because it would not be safe for him, as per Headmaster Dumbledore's orders," Snape answered shortly.
"But I'm sure Harry wants to be in the Gryffindor towers, don't you Harry?" Ron asked.
Harry the bird blanched as three set of eyes were upon him.
"Tweet?" he asked with a shrug.
"He cannot, it is out of the question. Now get out of my classroom if you want a detention, both of you," he ordered menacingly, pointing towards the archway.
Silent eyes watched their hasty retreat before dark met yellow. The bird causally shrugged at the glance and went back to preening his feathers, settling on his perch at the corner of Snape's desk. Severus stared at the bird for a moment, before shaking his head and getting back to his work.
--------------------
"I don't know why I even bother," Snape muttered, shivering in his cloak at the frosty air. "It's not like he appreciates anything I do for him, the idiot boy."
Overhead, a black shadow flew freely in the sky, the moonlight highlighting the lightening bolt on the bird's forehead, the rest of it cloaked in darkness.
Though Severus would never admit it, Harry's animagus form was one of beauty and awe, one that he wished he could take part in.
Looking around, he thought to himself, and why not? It's not like anyone is going to be outside at midnight! And with that, he concentrated hard – as not many Potion Masters ever mastered the animagi transformation; his robes dropped to his feet and his pale skin turning into iridescent white feathers, his eyes as black as the surrounding darkness and his talons the color of pale gold.
Fluttering upwards, he met the eyes of the eagle, and only dipped his head, floating lazily in the brisk night air with a shadow following behind.
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A/N: TBC