Chapter VIII

It was a rather usual Friday morning. The dungeon was filled with the sound of softly bubbling potions. The flames beneath the cauldrons burned brightly. But some of the students were trying desperately to salvage what could be called potions. Snape was walking through the aisles, inspecting the potions as he went. They were supposed to be making Somner's Fog - a potion that induced powerful dreams, which could be planted, into whoever swallowed it. It was supposed to be a luminous milky colour. Unfortunately for Ron and Harry, their potion was anything but luminous. It was milky to be sure, but it looked almost like rancid milk. They looked at each other nervously.

"More springdel's dew?" Ron suggested.

"No," Harry looked through the bottles and looked at the board. "We were supposed to add the powdered shrake spine a few seconds ago."

Ron grabbed the bottle and added a pinch or two. Harry shook his head before he measured out a rough teaspoon and dumped it in. Ron stirred it counter clockwise ten times. The potion's colour shifted to a white that started to glow rather nicely. They gave each other a look of relief but stopped when Snape appeared in front of their desk. He looked down his hooked nose at their potion before he continued walking on.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "I thought he was gonna say something for sure." This had to be the first time Snape didn't find anything wrong; Harry wouldn't be surprised if Snape docked him house points for simply breathing in his classroom.

"Me too," Ron sat in his seat gratefully. "Now we stir this stupid thing for ten minutes clockwise. And then for five minutes counter clockwise."

Harry nodded as he sat down too and started to stir the potion. He looked around, surveying the room carefully. It was evenly split, the Gryffindors working together on one side, and the Slytherins on another. Already he could see some of the Gryffindors, and what appeared to be a good amount of the Slytherins, had messed up their potions. Draco was busy fending off a rather clingy Pansy, while trying to stir the potion for the correct amount of time. He looked ready to hex her with the first thing he could think of. Sora, on the other had, was giving Pansy death glares, oblivious to Blaise's own attempts at capturing her attention. She batted away his stealthy hand more than a few times. Even as he looked all along the Slytherin tables, one situation after another appeared. Harry snickered and nudged Ron, before motioning with his head.

"Merlin!" Ron whispered. "I thought Slytherins hid behaviour like that!"

"So did I," Harry smirked. "It's like watching a stupid soap opera for teenagers."

"Tell me about it," Ron frowned. "Though Sora looks ready to murder Parkinson."

"I guess she doesn't like Parkinson around Malfoy." Harry replied. "Though, she should be paying more attention to Blaise at the moment."

Ron scowled. "I can take him. Maybe if he threw up slugs for an hour or two…"

Harry repressed his sly smile. "Since when have we gotten so defensive of Sora?"

"I've hung out with Sora a few times. It's like having a sister my own age. I mean, there's Ginny and all, but she's been different since Riddle's diary and all. And Sora gets things Ginny doesn't."

"Such as?" Harry asked; this just might be interesting.

"Well, ah," Ron's face went slightly red. "Oh, stir the other way now."

"Keep talking," Harry grinned as his hand started moving clockwise.

"Well, erm, I'm sure you figured out about me and Hermione by now." Ron started. "You aren't mad are you?"

"Yes, you two snogging was a big help there. And no, I'm not really. Guess you two were just trying to spare my feelings."

Ron's face went even redder as he nodded his head. "Well, um, Sora could kinda tell that I liked 'Mione and all. So she suggested some ways for me to tell her. And it worked. I mean, I tried to ask Ginny, but she got all lost in her daydreams." The redness in Ron's face vanished as he rolled his eyes.

"Really?" Harry chuckled. "Who is he? Some guy you'd be more than glad to intimidate?"

"Nope; it's you Harry." Ron said.

"Me?" Harry looked at Ron in surprise. "I thought she didn't like me anymore! By fifth year, she got over her crush and we were friends, and have been ever since."

Ron shrugged. "Who knows how girls think. But Ginny kept asking me if you had a date for the Halloween Ball."

"It's probably just a crush that will pass," Harry said with a shrug. "That's what happened before."

"I'm not so sure about it this time," Ron said a bit seriously as he looked at the board. "Take it off and let it cool for about six minutes, give it one good stir and bottle it. Ginny's probably going to want to go to the Ball with you."

Harry took the cauldron off and placed it on a cooling stand. "You've got to be kidding; I've got enough work as it is! I'm barely keeping up in my work. And I have to if I want to be an Auror."

"Which explains why the both of us are still in the greasy git's class," Ron replied. "Somehow."

Harry smiled as he caught Ron glance over at Hermione who was working with Dean on their Somner's Fog. "You did ask Hermione to the Ball, right?"

"Did that already," Ron smiled rather proudly. "'Mione was glad that she did have to tell me to ask."

"I would imagine." Harry chuckled.

"You know, even though Malfeu is going to be there," Ron said suddenly. "I'm kinda of excited about tonight. First lesson ever."

Harry nodded. "I know."

"You know, I really should ask what 'Malfeu' means. Sora did find it pretty funny."

"More like hilarious, I'd say." Harry peered at the potion. It was still glowing rather nicely. There was no way that Snape could fail them on this particular potion.

The class started buzzing as people finished off their potions and bottled them. Then, they brought them up to the front. Harry took the bottle up, placing it right on Snape's desk far away from the edge. There was no way that he wanted it to fall off like it had 'accidentally' in fifth year. He looked at Snape, hoping he would say something to him, anything, even the usual insult. But Snape simply gave a barely passing glance before telling him to get back to his seat and clean up so others could hand in their work. Harry went back to his desk, feeling slightly disappointed. Now he knew he'd been in Snape's classes for too long; seeking out harsh criticism was never a good sign. Though why he did was somewhat beyond him.

The quiet creak of the stairs settling masked the sound of footsteps moving down the hallway towards the Divination classroom. Harry Hermione and Ron moved as silently as they could, sticking close to the wall. They had avoided Filch and Mrs. Norris already and didn't want to run into them anytime soon. Turning a corner, they hurried to the staircase just ahead.

"That seemed to take forever," Hermione said, clutching the book tighter. "We still have enough time to get there?" she asked as they started up the stairs.

"Just enough," Harry said, glancing at his watch. "And remember Ron, no fighting with Malfoy."

"I know, I know," Ron said in a bored, slightly singsong, voice. "Or you or Sora or 'Mione will have my head."

Harry smiled somewhat at the glum expression on Ron's face. "Just remember, we're here to become Animagus."

"I know. But if that git calls 'Mione a Mudblood I'll hex him straight to hell."

Hermione smiled sweetly at him. "Just try Ron. I know it won't be easy, but just try for me, OK?"

Ron nodded his head, his expression still glum. Harry didn't say anything as they came to the door. He experimentally tried the handle but found the door locked. He took out his wand and opened the door. They walked into the room quickly, locking the door again behind them.

Sora was seated on top of Professor Trelawney's desk, holding the crystal ball in her hands and inspecting it with a curious gleam in her eye. Draco, on the other hand, was looking through one of the books Trelawney had and was sneering at something he was reading. Sora held the ball up to look at it, but dropped it as she noticed them. They started towards the desk.

"Ah, you three made it. And with not a minute to spare." Sora said as she put the crystal ball back and slid down off the desk easily. "For starters, I would like my book back, please."

"Here you go," Hermione said, holding it out with a clear reluctance. "It really is an interesting book."

Sora smiled slightly. "It does have its merits. I imagine you finished reading it in the week?"

"Almost," Hermione said. "I was going to finish it off tonight."

"Perhaps after you three have obtained a sufficient knowledge to transform, you can borrow the book again."

"Really?" Hermione sounded immensely pleased. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble and I haven't gotten a chance to thank you personally. So, thank you Sora."

"Not at all," Sora walked to the desk and opened the book to the first page. "And what are you thanking me for?"

"Talking some sense into Ron." Hermione smiled. "But we're here to study, right?"

"You three are," Draco drawled as he closed the book and tossed it on an empty shelf. "We aren't."

Harry simply smirked; apparently Draco wasn't pleased with these arrangements.

"It's nice to see you keeping a civil tongue," Sora said, giving him a look. "Shall we begin?"

"Of course!" Ron exclaimed. "I've been looking forward to this all day!"

"You're irrepressible, Ron." Sora laughed. "Now then, how much have you understood of this text, Hermione?"

"In theory, everything he wrote. The theory is simplistic enough to be difficult."

Draco snorted slightly but didn't say anything. Sora paused, thinking over something.

"That is the gist of the entire text more or less. It is simple enough to be difficult. And I promise you, that it will be hard. Draco and I started this in early July and we've only been able to transform in late September. The first thing Churlad says is that you must focus on the change, strange as that sounds. It is much like Apparating where you must be aware of everything; you must be aware of every hair on your body, every piece of clothing, and every bone. The same holds now; be aware of everything or you'll end up in a rather disastrous position if you change into your animal shape and then back into a human."

"Why? What can happen?" Ron asked.

Sora's face flushed slightly. "Clothes can come back in the wrong place, or, rarely, not at all. Or they can be tangled together. And you could mix up body parts, since there is a lot of shifting and reshaping."

"Oh."

“Now, focusing on the change is the easy part. I expect you'll have that mastered in no time. It's willing the change that's the real bitch. It will take you at least two months of diligent practice before you see any results; and those results will probably be minute - things such as whiskers, or your eyes changing, or even fur sprouting in places. You won't even know what animal you may change into. If you can accomplish this before Christmas Break, I will honestly be amazed."

"Can we see you change now?" Hermione asked.

Sora glanced at Draco and shrugged. "Very well. You should also know the length of time it takes to change varies from person to person as well as what animal you change into. Since my Animagus form is a mammal, this won't take very long."

Harry watched as Sora simply stood there, calm and composed. Then it all seemed to happen instantaneously. Her back bent and black fur grew rapidly, interspersed by the sound of bone creaking and joints popping slightly. Her hands, which were descending to the ground, and feet, became delicate paws, and her ears lengthened out. Her brown eyes lightened to a glowing red colour and elongated. Tails sprouted as well and three seconds later a large black fox was seated in front of them, its many tails spread out on the ground behind it.

"You did take my sandwich!" Ron exclaimed pointing a finger at her. "But this is just bloody cool!"

"I know; she was able to change so fast," Hermione said as she walked up to Sora and felt the fur. "It feels just like fox fur. Churlad said that some people mightn't change properly and the fur might feel like human hair."

Harry had something else completely different in mind. "Just what is she?"

"A fox demon, a kitsune. They're native only to China and Japan." Draco said. "They used to cause a lot of trouble around Muggles, so now they live in unplottable reserves."

"And what's your Animagus form?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Like you need to know, Potter." Draco retorted. "I have half a mind to- Ow! Ruri!"

Draco was cut off as Sora nipped his hand just enough to sting. Draco scowled at her as he snatched his hand back.

"Ruri?" Harry asked in a slightly amused voice.

"That what she prefers to be called in this form," Draco scowled at the kitsune. "You'd better change back. I'm not talking any more than I have to with this bunch."

Ruri simply gave him a cool look before jumping up on the desk and curling up into a ball. When she closed her eyes, the look on Draco's face fell considerably.

"…Hate it when she does that," Draco muttered rubbing his offended hand.

"Looks like you don't have much choice." Ron said, managing to hide his glee at Draco's situation.

Draco scowled at the three of them darkly. "Well, you heard what she said before. Get started!' he barked.

"But we aren't sure how, Malfoy," Ron managed in an even voice. "Maybe you'd better show us."

"How the hell," Draco said in a tight voice. "Can I show you how to concentrate on something that involves you shutting up for once and simply not thinking too damn much?"

Harry watched as Draco stormed to the seat and sat in it, turning it around so he didn't have to face them. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Draco did have a point. "Come on you guys, let's get started. This is going to take us awhile."

With a sigh, Harry opened the door to his room quietly, not wanting to wake up Neville or Dean. He had been going every Thursday and Friday to practice for two weeks now, with Hermione and Ron. And Sora was right; it was hard. It was simply trying to be aware of everything on your body, and your body itself. But it always seemed to elude him when he tried to focus his attention on it. He stripped down to his boxers, clambered into his bed and shut the curtains.

Gratefully, he sank down into his pillow, enjoying the comfort of his bed. This year was going rather well for him. Voldemort was quiet, and made no signs of showing himself anytime soon. He now had a family he could appreciate and enjoy. And with the amount of work he put into his studies now, he was well on his way to becoming an Auror. He could still remember the expression on Snape's face when he had actually managed to pass his Potions O.W.L with a good enough grade. Sheer incredulity had crashed through the sallow skinned man; that alone was satisfaction enough for Harry. And when he'd done well enough to get into the N.E.W.T class…suffice it to say Snape was far from pleased. Perhaps that was why he was being particularly vicious to Harry when the opportunity arose. Either that or simply ignore him.

"Hrm," Harry sat up, feeling his slightly lumpy pillow. He punched it a few times before he resettled his head. "Bet the prat though he'd be rid of me after fifth year."

A somewhat vindictive smile spread across Harry's face; so much for Snape's theory that he was an abysmal Potions student. Who cared if it was a rather mean and spiteful thing to do? He'd shown up Snape time and time again when he handed in a potion that could merit no harsh words of criticism. He frowned; but that is what he found odd, in a manner of speaking; he actually missed the insults, missed the roaring pound of blood in his ears as he fought to hold his tongue, and missed the barbed conversations between them.

Harry shook his head as he closed his eyes. "That's just depraved; almost like I want that pain back again."

A sharp gasp escaped his throat as the hand slid its way down his belly. The fingertips were slightly calloused and a bit rough. He bit his lip and arched his hips up, seeking the touch further. A mouth followed the trail of the hand, a wet tongue tracing out patterns as it wandered slowly downwards, and lips just grazing the skin.

He closed his eyes, allowing the sensations to curl through him slowly. Whoever the person was, they were fanning the flames very well. It was only a matter of time before he was reduced to a mass of need and desire.

There came a low chuckle as the fingertips reached his hipbone, ghosting over as he moved his hips upwards again in a silent plea. The low chuckle came again, this time lower and richer and infinitely more amused and aroused.

A hand started to trail its way back up his belly again, and he grabbed it, dragging it to his lips. He needed to give something as well. He opened his eyes as he fervently pressed his lips against the palm in a harsh kiss before he moved onto the fingertips, nibbling and sucking gently. A low moan filled the room, making him twitch with anticipation. It was only then, when he looked back at the hand and continued his ministrations that he noticed the hand as it really was; a masculine hand.

"Harry! For Merlin's sake, Harry, wake up!"

Harry's eyes flew open as he became aware of three immediate things. One was that it was early morning; he didn't even remember falling asleep. Two, Ron had the bed curtains wide open, with the sun beaming in from a window. The third was that he was incredibly turned on, and semi-hard. He gave a grunt and rolled over on his stomach, trying to will away the dream that had come to him. Not that it was working in any way. And rolling onto his stomach certainly wasn’t a good idea. The friction from his pyjama bottoms against the bed sheets was making him harder as he shifted, trying to get comfortable.

"Harry, get up! The Quidditch team met for practice five minutes ago. I came to find you." Ron said as he shook Harry's shoulder briskly.

"Is it Saturday already?" Harry groaned.

"Yeah! And we play Hufflepuff next week! Come on, up! I'll go tell the others you're coming." Ron said as he walked out from the room.

Harry waited until he heard Ron's footsteps descending down the stairs. He sat up in the bed, running a hand through his hair. Quidditch practice, he'd forgotten all about that. It would probably be best that he take a shower, look after his growing problem and then get out there and play. Merlin knew Dean would be livid if he didn't show up. First it was Oliver, then Angelina, and now Dean for two years running…each time, they morphed into over demanding captains that seemed ready to explode at the slightest sign of a player receiving detention that clashed with Quidditch; that and players who simply skived off.

Harry rushed in the shower, changed, grabbed his Firebolt and ran as fast as he could for the Quidditch pitch. When he arrived there, Dean was far from happy with him. It took Harry about five minutes to explain just why he had slept in - that nice long essay from Snape was actually handy for once - and kicked off from the ground, close to the goal posts.

"I'm starting to think you need an alarm clock, Harry!" Ron laughed as he flitted over. "I've never seen you look so meek."

"Yeah, well…" Harry grumbled with a shrug. "Was I supposed to say I came back late from my Animagus study group?"

"Oh no," Ron shook his head. "Course not. You were far too busy working on that essay for Snape right?"

Harry grinned slightly. "Looks like the Quaffle's coming your way."

Ron darted back in front of the goal posts and neatly snagged the ball as it was thrown rather hard. Harry was really impressed at how Ron had improved his Keeping skills. After a somewhat disastrous beginning in fifth year, he grew used to the crowd and some of the psychological tricks that Slytherin used, that once made him turn green with worry made him laugh now. A few still angered him but he'd learned to channel that into the game and use it against them.

Harry flew up a bit higher, circling around the pitch lazily. The Bludgers were released and then Harry had the added task of dodging those, and leaving them for the Beaters as well as finding the Snitch. So far he was seeing nothing. It was only when he was at the far end of the field by the empty goal posts that he finally spotted a flit of gold just to his left. He turned and started after it. It took a rather erratic path around the pitch before darting up into the air. Harry followed closely on its heels; it was so close that he could simply reach out and grab it.

But then, it feinted to the right and disappeared into the stands. Harry gave a groan as he started after it. But then he saw something else from the corner of his eye that made him stop and turn. There was a carriage pulling up to the front of the school. He watched carefully as a black haired, black robed figure stepped out. His mouth tightened into a grim line as his jaw clenched together.

"Harry, watch out!"

Harry barely had time to react to Dean's voice as a Bludger slammed into him from the side, catching him in the shoulder and knocking him off his broom. He landed hard on the wooden stands, knocking his head against a few of the seats. He groaned as he held his head in his good hand and staggered to his feet.

"Are you all right Harry?" Dean asked as he alighted beside him, as well as few other players; Ron was - thankfully- going after his broom. "What were you looking at that took you attention away?"

Harry's eyes widened as he pushed his way through the crowd, nearly falling down the stands as he ran. He jumped over the railing and landed on the pitch grass and took off, heading for the building. He had to get in there and warn Sora. Leiko de Vyns had come to Hogwarts.

When Darkness Comes - Chapter Seven || When Darkness Comes - Chapter Nine