Christmas/Yule.
Harrison and Ron woke late on the first day of Yule/Christmas break. The trio had stayed up late the night before, brewing the potion. It was just about finished, they just had to wait two days before adding the last few ingredients.
The two got dressed and head to the common room, where Hermione was sat waiting for them. "Morning boys," she said, her voice laced in amusement, "It's almost lunch."
Harrison slumped into his usual chair by the fire. He noted the snow looked heavier as he took out one of his notebooks. He used this one specifically to draw in. There were a few drawings of classrooms, the great hall, Hedwig and Crookshanks. Speaking of, the cat was spread out in front of the fire, looking worn out. Most likely trying to eat Scabbers again.
"Is it really?" Ron asked, surprise clear on his face.
"Ron missed a meal?" Harrison asked, snorting at the way Ron turned to look at him.
"What is that supposed to mean, Harrison?"
"Lunch is better than breakfast anyways, your always saying it," Hermione cut in, much to Harrisons relief.
"Whatever, what have you been doing all morning then?" Ron sighed, leaning back against the sofa.
"I watched Crookshanks chase after Scabbers for 20 minutes while I did the introduction for the Potions homework, and I was just about to start with Divination."
Harrison drew as the two talked, having settled on Crookshanks and the fire. It was about 10 minutes in when Ron and Hermione went quiet when Harrison random said, "Have I told you what I see and hear when the dementors get close?"
He hadn't, he knew he hadn't, but he felt bad telling Remus and not the other two.
They shook their heads, and so he continued, "My mum. Dying. Well, and Voldemort. The guy has a really dried out voice, by the way."
Silence. He continued drawing, not really wanting to see Hermione's sympathetic and knowing face. The silence carried on for a few seconds before, "Maybe Voldemort was just permanently dehydrated. It would explain why he became a Dark Lord, I know that would piss me off for eternity."
Harrison burst out laughing, while Hermione looked shell-shocked. "Ronald, you can't joke around like that! Harry just told us something incredibly sensitive!"
The two boys, though, were too busy laughing.
"Boys."
=====================
The first week of term, leading up to Christmas/Yule went by slowly. They spend the first three days doing homework for all their subjects, as well as reading up on Yule traditions. Ron and Hermione also went down to Hogsmeade with the few other students staying to get a Yule Log.
They were the only Gryffindors, by some miracle, and so they'd be able to make and do their own traditions in the common room.
Neither of them had ever celebrated Yule, so they had a pick from a list of all kinds of ways to celebrate the day. Dark, light, grey. One person, two, three. You could celebrate in any number of ways, and Harrison supposed that's the beauty of the holiday.
He met with Remus once, and had a brief panic on if he should get the man a present. He had owl ordered all of his, not being able to go to Hogsmeade and all. The older years were happy to give him a couple of catalogues.
He knew the full moon was on Christmas Eve, and so the man probably wouldn't even open the gift until the twenty seventh at least.
Other than that, the trio didn't do much. They went to the library at least once a day, and down to Hagrid's, having not seen him outside of lessons yet, or brewing/cleaning in the bathroom. Other than that and meals, the three found themselves in the common room.
The potion wouldn't be done until Christmas Eve, as it had to be done on a full moon. The whole potion was very finicky and precise.
So, with nothing to do, they lazed around in the common room, watching Scabbers be chased by Crookshanks or telling Ron about random muggle things, and he telling the other two random magic things.
Ron was absolutely blown away by a film. Hermione and Harrison were utterly confused at what on Earth something as simple as a bewtitched tea set was capable of on its own.
It was now Christmas Eve, or Yule Eve. Most of their day went as usual. They went to breakfast, which was bubbling from excitement between the teachers, not Snape, and the few students. Harrison had a small conversation with Remus after, but didn't drag it out. The man looked tired, and it was the full moon that night.
They went to the library as usual, and Harrison was briefly reminded of Occlumency from a comment Hermione made, and added it to their list of 'Self-Study Topics'. So far, they'd crossed of the dementors/spell line, haven no need for it. Remus would teach Harrison, and Harrison would try his best teaching the other two.
They'd started on Necromancy, but there wasn't much in the library. Correction, there wasn't much in the unrestricted part of the library. From Harrison's brief visit in first year, he was sure there would definitely be a good few books in there.
All they found was recent, and wasn't much helpful. They'd found out more on death omens, and how to spot them. They'd also found that the gift was inherited, it couldn't be learned easily, and even if you could, it was incredibly draining and a witch or wizard would only be able to do simple spells. Didn't seem exactly worth it.
However, remembering the comment about the Peverells in a book on their first day, Harrison bet he had at least some talent in necromancy.
A sentence Ron said, in particular, when explaining what he knew about Necromancy, stuck out to him. "It's mainly transference and absorption of Life".
It felt familiar, as if he'd done it before. His mind went to his mother's death. Could that be? Not just once had his thoughts drifted to that sentence, but until he knew more, he couldn't be 100% sure.
They'd also looked into Sirius Black and crossed him off the list. The man had so many articles about him, about the crimes he did, about his sentence in Azkaban, and more from his break-out. But there was no trial. Nothing. No word that it was even a closed trial, it just didn't exist. How where they 100% sure Sirius Black was the man behind the crimes? He could of been framed for anyone to know. It was so easy to apparate, or just run away from a scene and leave someone in shock after all.
Then there was the entire Godfather thing. The man had sworn an Oath to his own magic and life to protect Harrison, to make himself his Godfather. He'd confirmed in an Heir lesson with Neville that there was no way around it. So if Sirius were to betray his parents to Voldemort, someone who wanted to kill him? Sirius would've been long dead.
So, with that, they'd crossed Sirius off of their study list and list of threats.
Now, though? They were going through the shelves of Wizarding fiction. There wasn't a lot, and majority looked ancient.
"Wizards really don't like to read for fun, do they?" Hermione grumbled, blowing off dust on a cover.
"You'd think they'd be all for it," Harrison said, brushing off a cover himself.
Ron though, was sat behind them, watching them with confusion, "Why would you read for anything other than learning?"
Harrison sighed, turning to look at him as he placed the book on a desk, "Oh Ron."
"What? It's a genuine question? I mean, what is there to read?"
"I should've gotten you a muggle fiction book for Yule." Hermione said, completely solemn.
"There's always his birthday." Harrison pointed out, reading a blurb. Trust a bloody wizard to have absolutely no imagination.
Hermione hummed in thought, before Harrison continued, "Don't get him anything too.. muggle or fantasy though. He might have a stroke."
================================
It was 11:40 when Harrison returned back to Gryffindor Tower.
He had to get the cauldrons, they had 3, one for each of them as the potion had to be brewed separately per person, and it was a hassle going from the bathroom to the tower with 3 cauldrons, a map and the cloak.
He managed though, and now they're sat, a few feet apart from each other. If Harrison brewed correctly, in 15 minutes, they'd have to light the flame underneath and breathe in the fumes. He knew he had, but he was still a bit nervous. It was a long process, and repeating would be such a pain, to all of them.
Ron groaned, "This is taking forever."
"Only 5 minutes, Ronald."
"I know, I know, but it feels like 5 years."
"You're the one who wanted to do this."
"Yeah, well, time is slow."
"How can time be slow?"
"Well... it just is at the moment."
"But time doesn't change speed."
"Well...Yeah... But... Oh shut up Hermione, you know what I mean."
Harrison, who had been keeping in his laughter the whole time they bickered , giggled a bit. "Uh, sorry to break up..." Your daily fight as an old married couple, "Whatever this is, but you can light the flame now."
Ron cheered, before hastily lighting the fkame when he saw Harrison and Hermione doing it.
It took a moment before the fumes began, but they had to meditate for this entire part, so they didn't notice.
The book described that you would go into a 'state', but this was far from anything Harrison could of imagined.
One moment, he was meditating in a forest. The next, he was in a bloody forest.
It stretched out in all directions, the sun filtering through the leaves, giving a golden look. The air was cool and moist, and he was hit with the scents of the damp earth and flowers. There was no sound, no movement. When he moved, it didn't feel like walking but more like gliding, as if he was a bloody ghost.
He looked around more, and decided to go with instincts. He was supposed to be finding his animagus form after all, and animals heavily relied on their instincts.
He decided on going north, or at least North from where he... appeared?
He glided through the forest, being careful not to startle anything. He had no idea how much time passed as he admired the forest. It was so... perfect.
He came to abrupt stop on the edge of a clearing, having heard a rustle come from a bush, and his eyes locked onto it. A beat. Then two. And then another rustle, and he could see the tip of a wet, black nose.
The small animal emerges cautiously from the bush. Its silvery fur catches the light, giving it a slight sheen. His, because Harrison knows this is him, sharp eyes dart to himself, sniffing the air. Its lithe body moves with a natural grace as it steps fully into the open, bushy tail lazily swishing behind it.
Harrison smiled, tilting his head, causing the animal to do the same.
A fox.
He read how all animagi have key features about them, to differentiate them to other animals of the species, even if it's subtle. His had a thick silvery and black coat, and had eyes he had grown familiar as to be his own.
The fox trot towards him, after analysing himself to not be a threat. As it approaches, it seems to stop in the middle of the clearing, lowering itself to the ground and sitting, bushy tail swaying behind it.
The trio had speculated what each-other would be, a cat, dog, tiger, bird, and his mind never even thought of a fox. But now, he couldn't imagine himself as anything else.
The fox cocks its head curiously, as if questioning if Harrison would get closer.
So he did, he took small steps forward, though he felt as if he was still gliding, and stopped a few inches away from the fox.
Up close, he could see that his scar wasn't present on his animagus form, whereas on his own face, it ran down the side of his face and touched his neck. Thank Merlin for that.
Anyone would've been able to spot him if it carried over.
Again, he had no idea how much time passed where he and the fox stared at each other. He didn't even realise that he had knelt at one point, and reached his hand out for the fox to sniff him.
The animal rose to its feet, slowly, wet black nose twitching. It craned its head towards his hand, sniffing gently. Eyes darted between Harrisons face and the hand. Then, to Harrisons surprise, the fox leaned into his touch, rubbing the side of its head against his hand. He obliged to the obvious request, stroking and scratching the side of the animals head.
The animal let out a small whine, taking another step closer, but before anything else could happen, Harrison was snapped out of his state, and was back in the common room.
=========================
Hermione was the first one to snap out of the state, and described watching them to be... disturbing.
To all of their utter surprise, Hermione was a lynx, and Ron was a bloody coyote. Ron was honestly baffled, until Harrison took out the book on different forms and the 'why'.
"Well, it says here that Coyotes mean like full of wisdom and playful, having a liking to joke around a lot, awareness."
"Huh."
Lynx's were spiritual animals, observers and playful. Honest. persistent.. yeah the list goes on. With Harrison and Ron betting on Hermione having at least some form of sight, they weren't that surprised.
Fox's were tricky, much to Harrisons amusement. They were good and bad luck, intelligent and cunning, creative. They were warnings, or signs. Which Harrison thought was very much him.
By the time they realised they should probably sleep, it was 1:42AM, so they quickly carried the potion stuff into the boys dorm, wished eachother a Happy Yule and Christmas, and went to bed.
Also with a reminder from Hermione to perform the spell tonight and in the morning.
===================
The next morning, Harrison was woken by Ron throwing a pillow at him.
He groaned, shoving his head under his own pillow, whilst Ron squawked about how there were presents to open and breakfast. Should of been a bloody peacock animagus.
It was only Ron doing the chant/spell that made him get up, reminding him he had to as well.
He reached for both his glasses and wand, putting them on and doing the spell, before stretching and squinting through the semi-dark room. At the end of his bed there was a small pile of presents, like there was annually since coming to Hogwarts.
He rubbed his eyes before both he and Ron opened their presents. A scarlet swearer with a lion on the front from Mrs Weasley, along with some food. A box of fudge from Hagrid he would definitely need to put by the fire for a while before being edible. A few sweets and random bits from his newer friends. A plant from Neville, that he placed on his bedside table.
There was a package from Hermione, with a note saying 'Open later when alone, and read the note inside!', so he placed that aside, next to the new plant. There was 2 left, so he picked up the smaller one.
He opened it, fully expecting it to be another book or something, but found two picture frames instead. He frowned in confusion, turning one around before his expression quickly turned blank.
It was a picture of his parents, wearing birthday hats, smiling widely at a baby in between them, who was waving around a bit of wrapping paper. His breath caught, staring down at the image.
'Harrison's First Birthday!'
He blinked away the tears in his eyes, watching as the photo looped. There were no pictures of Harrison. He knew because the Dursleys wanted no proof of his time with them. No school photos, no baby photos, no family photos. He was always excluded, having to watch them being taken from aside. It wasn't until he came to Hogwarts, and joined the Quidditch team, when he got his picture taking for the first time in... what a decade?
There weren't even photos of him in the album Hagrid gave him. I mean sure, there was evidence he was around when they were taken. In a lap, asleep or something. But his face wasn't in any. He had no idea what he looked like as a child other than from memory.
So this was...
He continued rapidly blinking as he turned the second one, which showed a much younger Harrison, a large ginger kitten, and his parents, sat in between a Yule Log, which was burning in the fire, and a Christmas tree which was glowing from the lights.
'Harrison's First Christmas!'
"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, voice softer than usual.
"Yeah," Harrison responded, not looking up from the photo's. There was a note that fell out of the present as well, probably to say who the gift was from. But he knew. "I'm fine."
===================
Other than the emotional gift from Remus, he also got a bloody broom anonymously.
He had just put opened the gift, had a weird brainstorm session with Ron about it and put the pictures on his bedside table, on top of the gift Hermione gave him when she knocked the door and came in, Crookshanks following behind her.
"Happy Yule and Merry Christmas you two," She greeted, sitting on Ron's bed.
"Happy Yule, Merry Christmas," They parroted, Ron carrying on, "Harry was anonymously sent a broom."
She frowned, "No note?"
"Nothing. Checked twice." He said, gesturing to the broom at the foot of the bed.
"That's odd..." She said, looking at it, "I'm not saying it's like going to be cursed or anything... but..."
"It's me." He finished off, "So there is definitely a high chance of it."
"We were thinking of giving it to like... I don't know, McGonagall? Flitwick? Just to see if they can check it for anything." Ron said, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.
Hermione nodded, "That'd be a good idea."
"We should take it down to her tomorrow. Right now, I'm hungry, and I want breakfast," She continued, as Ron snorted.
"Sure you haven't turned into me, Hermione?"
Crookshanks started chasing after Scabbers again.
"No-one could have your appetite, Ron."