Verus

10th century, Hogwarts Castle

The following years flew by in a flustered haze. There were both good times and bad; moments where Harry longed for the life that had been taken from him, as well as days spent laughing and lounging under the warm sun.

That first September had been rather strange, for everyone it seemed. With Harry not parting ways liked originally planned, the four founders huddled even closer together to make sure that the remaining years he got to spend with them were used to further his education and fill him with enough knowledge, drive, and love before the looming day finally arrived.

Harry, on the other hand, felt an odd sense of loss as well as relief. It was a comfort, knowing that he wouldn't be leaving the life he had built just yet. But where it felt as though someone had gifted him a broken pocket-watch, where time didn't seem to have much of a meaning, nor a purpose anymore, it also became this heavy burden that sometimes clouded his mind. He thought, though not too often, about what he'd be missing out on, the people he wouldn't get to meet, the things he wouldn't learn; of his god father's emotions, if the Sirius Black Merlin had spoken so greatly of would even care for the fact that he hadn't stepped foot inside the grand castle alongside the rest of his schoolmates; and how things would change once he finally did make his appearance.

Although still young, Harry wasn't ignorant to the levels of fame in which his name held in the far future, and his understanding of that fact had come mainly from Salazar. The potioneer had always held high expectations, and Harry wasn't an exception to that fact. Sal, determined and strong willed, wanted Harry to know what life would be like for him once they went their separate ways, how his stance would affect those around him and their addled, hungry minds. The man was wise beyond his years and had quickly become the one person Harry most looked up to, the being he strove to make most proud.

And proud, Slytherin was. It was seen in the many accomplishments Harry achieved during his early years of adolescence, and how he held himself amongst the rest of the castles occupants. In fact, all of the founders were immensely proud of the person Harry was quickly shaping up to be, and they made sure that the boy knew it too. In every way they could.

—

Harry all but growled in frustration as he tightened his grip on his wand and dropped his arm to his side. The pitiful sparks of, what should have been, a bright and vivid Patronus hit the floor about a foot away, they bounced once... twice... before they fizzled out into nothing.

They'd been at this for days.

Draw in the calm, breathe, think a happy thought, cast.

It should have been simple! But Harry was struggling like never before and that little fact only proved to irk him all the more. He wasn't a stranger to the stress of learning problematic spells, but where they sometimes took a few hours, perhaps a day or two to finally cast, the Patronus was, well and truly, kicking his arse.

Godric, who was stood a way away, sighed to himself then moved to join a defeated looking Harry. The twelve year old merely lowered his head in shame, neck flushed with embarrassment.

"Now, now. None of that." Godric spoke up just as a strong, warm hand clasped Harry's right shoulder. He squeezed sympathetically. "You'll grasp it soon enough, of that I am sure."

Godric's words, although kind, in that moment felt condescending. So Harry worked his jaw, gritted his teeth, and swallowed so many razor-sharp words he felt sick.

He was still working to dampen the hotheadedness that had reared its angry head a little earlier that same year. 'Hormones' were what Helga liked to use as an excuse for whenever his fiery temper flared, but Salazar still would only smirk, raise a single brow at him and hiss, §That wild mane does not suit you, young Snakelet.§

Harry choked down his bubbling irritation.

"When?" He forced out instead, then took a deep breath and visibly fought to relax his rigid shoulders.

Godric only sighed, again, and the sound had Harry's eyes falling shut.

"This isn't a battle, Harry. This is no war to be won." The redheaded wizard told him, Harry could feel his unrelenting gaze, it sent a prickle down his spine. "The Patronus is an exceedingly difficult charm to master, a rather advanced type of magic, and I will tell you yet again that not many grown wizards have the ability to even cast it. Do not strain yourself, child, it will merely make things worse."

Harry pulled away from the man's sympathetic hand, which then felt far too heavy, to brace himself against the nearest window ledge. From there he could see the large body of water which was located just south of the castle. The sight of the Black Lake, surprisingly, quelled the rising storm inside of him, its stillness and murky shrouding resonated deep within and filled his hectic mind with memories of his younger self. From flying over it, skimming the tail end of his broom through its dark water, to the days he'd spent swimming in its shallow, rippling the currents with some of the other students.

"Harry," Godric tried again, and Harry exhaled heavily before he turned to face him.

The man had grown older in all the years Harry had known him, and usually he didn't take much notice of that fact, or pay attention to what it honestly meant, but stood there, it finally hit him. The early afternoon light did nothing to hide the signs of the wizard's age, Ric's face was wrinkled with lines Harry couldn't ever remember seeing, and his flaming red hair was littered with faint spats of silver that glimmered in the sun.

Right then, Harry just wanted to step into his arms, much like he had done when he was a boy, and embrace him. There needn't be a word said, just the comfort of knowing Godric was there would have been enough for him.

But instead, Harry gifted the man the beginnings of a minuscule smile.

"Sorry, I'm just frustrated."

Godric returned his gesture, and the small, amused grin he wore lit up his face, brightening his sky coloured eyes.

"Oh really? I could not tell."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the blatant sarcasm. "Yeah, yeah. Eat it up, old man."

A pathetic yelp escaped him as he ducked out of the way of a stinging hex that flew past his left leg.

"Gods, Ric! I was only teasing!"

"Carry on spouting that nonsense and I will talk Sal into letting you reorganise his personal library." Godric threatened with a pointed finger, he scoffed inwardly and shook his head, "Oldman."

Although the idea didn't really faze Harry- he was all for spending more time within the four walls of Sal's never-ending study- he much preferred making it in time for supper that evening. The house elves had let slip that they were making treacle tart for dessert.

"I'll behave." Assured Harry as he pushed back on the windowsill to take perch, his feet clacked against the hard stone.

Godric's goodnatured laugh echoed throughout the defence classroom as he made his way over to join him. "See to it that you do."

Harry tilted his head to flash the man a more genuine smile but faltered when he found Ric already looking at him, lips pursed in thought.

"What is it?"

Godric inhaled slowly as his blue eyes darted between Harry's green.

"Have you ever heard of the term affinity, Harry?"

Confused, Harry's forehead pinched and he shook his head in a silent reply.

With a curt nod, Godric shifted so that his body was angled more towards the boy then clasped his hands in his lap. Harry waited.

"Affinities, in simpler terms, are a natural liking for and understanding of a certain type of magic."

Harry's frown lessened slightly, "Oh, so like my magic- how the old and the new used to compete to cast?"

Godric gifted him a terse smile as he shook his head. "Not quite. You see, in our world, as well as your own, there are three kinds of magic. The first fey, or rather Lady Magic herself, drew a line of balance that was set to keep until, well, the end of time I can only suppose. If one side ever tried to outweigh the others, it would soon be brought back to its rightful place by the remaining forces. It was made that way so that there would always be a certain amount of equilibrium within nature."

Harry nodded slowly, wondering where Godric was going with this, "Right..."

"As I mentioned, there are three kinds; Dark, Light, Neutral. And well, they are merely just fancy terms for moral value systems. Rather murky in their connotations, too." Godric supplied, "These magics correlate because they are what defines us all as wizards."

"Okay, how so?"

Godric took a steady breath, whilst Harry watched on.

"Dark, Light, and Neutral are used to describe an affinity. In doing so it allows a witch or wizard to truly understand the magic they wield and why some magics are easier to adapt to and others are... well, a struggle."

Harry swallowed thickly at the insinuation in which he felt was rapidly brewing. "And, every witch and wizard has one?"

Godric smiled at Harry's question, "It would seem so."

"So those with a Dark affinity are more... receptive to darker spells? The Dark Arts, so to speak, or the use of curses and rituals?"

There was a noticeable pause that stretched between them before Godric finally nodded and spoke again, which only sent Harry's already fraying mind into a deeper spiral. "But, Harry, that is not to say that having a Dark affinity means that you are evil, or even lesser."

"But it does! Doesn't it?" Harry immediately snapped back.

The Patronus, although a difficult spell, was an obvious Light charm and he... he struggled. It took practically everything in him to grasp onto the fickle sparks he produced with the charm and force them further out. He- Harry shook his head.

"This changes everything."

Seeing the obvious state that the boy had worked himself into, Godric hurried to soothe Harry. He grasped him by the arms and physically steered him so that he was forced to meet his determined eyes once more.

"Listen to me, child. You must stop jumping to conclusions, you are going to make yourself ill. What will Helga and Rowena say then?" Harry watched as Ric shook his head in an attempt to collect his thoughts. "Magic, Harry, is simply just that. Magic. Intent however is much different. Do you understand me when I say that?"

Harry was lost, he simply stared at Godric, his emotions written clearly on his face as he fought to keep his breathing in check. He was dark. Evil. He knew it now. What would the world say of their supposed saviour upon learning that?

"Harry." Godric emphasised as he shook the boy's shoulders, he needed an answer.

"What will they all say, Ric? Merlin. The Wizarding World. My parents- they died for..." Nothing.

Godric's face furrowed deeply and he released Harry's shoulders to cradle the boy's heavy head in his hands.

"Child, listen to me." He stressed, "You are far from evil. I know this because I had a hand in raising you myself. You, Harry, are well beyond your years. A prodigy in the making, and the farthest thing from bad. But saying that, you are also as stubborn as Salazar can often tend to be. The both of you, two peas of the same pod. So tell me, Harry, if Sal's affinity was Dark too, would that, in your mind, also make him the root of all evil? Would you blame him for this world's wrong doings and sufferings, or for merely following the path Lady Magic has granted him the ability to walk?"

Harry tried to swallow but his throat was far too dry.

"Salazar is a great man. And an even greater wizard. But you and I both know that he has a mean streak, that he can be greedy and insulant, but he is not evil. And like you, he is far from bad."

"But," Harry tried, his mind seemed to have turned to mush. Nothing made any sense.

Godric slowly withdrew his hands away to wrap an arm around the boy's shoulders, he pulled Harry near.

"Intent, Harry. Every spell cast, every ritual chanted, every rune carved, there is intent there, hidden and wrapped in the magic. Your morals, your beliefs, your mindset are all channeled into your magic, there is where the good and the bad lies. But then again, we are all made up of both good and bad, child, so this is where we return to the scale, to where balance lies. Intent is where the scales tip, Harry. Good men can make bad decisions, and bad men can be good. It all aligns with your morality. Do you understand these words?"

Harry wet his lips and nodded, his gaze focused on the far stone wall as he tried to piece it all together.

"Defining Dark is like defining good and evil: it is futile and subjective. It's all nonsensical and stigma is what ultimately drives a reaction, Harry.

"If a wizard's affinity is Light, that does not make him inherently good, it merely means that his magic has a certain liking for Light spells, he finds them easier to influence and control. Like a Neutral witch will be more inclined to Neutral magic. These witches and wizards have an inclination, and though they may struggle with the remaining magics they can still cast them, or attempt to, it's just a harder task. You must be determined.

"There is also a lot more to Dark magic than just the Dark Arts, child. Magic has nothing to do with the amoral desire to hurt or control, nor a selfless wish to simply help, that is where intent lies, where morality is truly put to the test.

Light and Dark wizards can not be defined by what is good and what is bad. From what I have learned of your time, traditional Dark families- where kin usually share the same affinity- are often referred to as evil or dark because of their apparent disregard for what is 'virtuous'. For their beliefs on upholding certain traditions and the mixing of magic and non-magics, as well as their views on magical species. They are not shy nor hypocritical when sharing their opinions, either.

But then, you look at the Light families, they are equally as viscous in their discrimination against all things 'inherently' Dark, and what they have decided is immoral. It is incredibly contradictory. They disagree with the supposed Dark views of blood shared amongst wizards, but allow the magical children of non-magical parentage to disrupt our long-lived traditions whilst also failing to teach them anything about what it means to really have this gift, to live in our world."

Silence settled upon them and Harry spent it trying to fit all the pieces of this new puzzle together. He knew that he would take this conversation with him when he walked out of the door, he'd carry it with him all the way to bed and perhaps even into tomorrow. Godric had given him a lot to think about.

"Do you understand me a little clearer now?" Godric asked him after a minute, or perhaps it was ten, Harry wasn't sure.

"Yes." Harry replied faintly and winced at the croak that broke his voice. Godric didn't pull any attention towards it, simply stood to cross the classroom to his desk.

"I think that is our lesson concluded for today. We will begin again tomorrow. Yes?"

Harry nodded and slowly pulled himself to his feet, he walked over to gather his things, listening to Ric rustle papers and whatever else as he did.

It was just as he went to leave that Harry paused and glanced back at the man. "Godric?"

The man in question lifted his head from his notes to show the boy that he had his full attention.

"What if I can never cast it?" Harry asked shakily, "The Patronus, I mean."

The man's lips curved into the softest smile Harry had ever seen him wear. "I have faith in you."

Harry nodded just the once, but still didn't move to go.

"Was there something else?" Godric questioned, laying his quill to rest on the wooden desk.

Harry gnawed at his lower lip, he ducked his head when he finally found the courage to speak up again. "How do I know?"

"How do you know, what?"

"If..." Harry swallowed noisily and toyed with the hem of his jumper's sleeve, "If my affinity really is Dark."

Godric made no reply but he was smiling still when Harry finally glanced up to meet his eye.

"Sometimes you just know, it is seen in your magic, your actions. As I said before, family members often share the same affinity: if a mother is Dark, then there is a greater chance the babe will be too. But that does not mean that you have to follow its path, Harry. Magic is yours to use, to nurture."

Harry hummed quietly, he replayed the words over in his head. "So there is no, test to determine it?"

"I should have known! Rowena has had you in her clutches for far too long." Godric snorted, obviously entertained by the notion, "But yes, there is a ritual you can partake in, if that appeases you at all."

Harry squawked in objection but hid his smile upon hearing the man laugh merrily, even if it was at his expense.

"I must confess, this is probably where you are better off speaking to Salazar or Rowena. They have a vaster knowledge of the topic." Godric told him once his chuckles had died out. "Though I suppose Sal might be much preferred."

Harry felt an inkling of guilt line his throat upon hearing that. Godric must have seen it displayed on his face because he waved him off with a kindhearted smile.

"It is not news to any of us that you and Salazar are rather close, Harry, and you do not need to apologise for it. We know you love us all the same, Sal is just better at understanding you. You have a bond none of us can quite comprehend- which we are beyond thankful for. Truly." Godric laughed and Harry smiled at his easy nature. "If I were ever to begin to understand the inner workings of that mad man's mind it would be the end of all days, of that I can assure you."

Harry left the classroom feeling a little out of it, his head was mostly lost in an array of thoughts. But it was only a few days later, not long after he had sought out Sal and delved much further into the topic Ric had barely touched upon, that Harry finally casted his first corporeal Patronus.

A raven.

—

A perfectly poised Rowena sat at the desk of the classroom she had taken to using for Harry's Study of Runes, the scratch of her eagle feathered quill sounded every few moments as she worked her way through a mighty stack of papers.

It was by chance that she looked up after having placed her newest marking on top of the pile, which sat to her right, to see how the dark haired teen was fairing with the workload. Her lips pursed upon seeing Harry and his obvious strain to view the runes she had drawn earlier on the chalkboard.

"Harry, are you quite all right?" Rowena asked him.

Harry blinked before he turned to face her, distracted.

"Yes, why?"

Rowena didn't frown but it was a near thing, she popped her quill in the ink pot and stood to round her desk. "Are you able to see the board?"

Harry tilted his head, baffled by the unexpected question. "Um, sure?"

The witch merely raised a sleek brow in return. "Tell me, what does the third carving look like to you?"

Harry looked at her for a long moment before he drew his eyes back to the board. Rowena noted his squint.

"Well, there's a straight line going down and another spouting off its top to the right." Harry answered, unaware of how his chest now pressed against the wood of his own desk.

"There are in fact two lines at the top." Rowena informed Harry, who frowned at the board then down at his page. She hummed before summoning him closer. The boy went.

The woman held out a hand just as Harry fell into line with her, only where she was leant against the desk, he was stood before the board.

"Describe the fifth."

Harry huffed but followed the instruction, oblivious to the fact that he failed once more to recount the sketch.

"Hm, just as I suspected." Rowena said, then without another word she clicked her fingers and Lyc, her personal house elf, appeared.

"Mistress be calling for Lyc?" Spoke the dwarfed creature, swaying happily as she often did in the apron she adored.

Rowena gifted her a kind smile, "Indeed. Would you call Salazar for me? It seems I am in need of his help here."

With a nod, Lyc disapparated promptly, leaving a rather confused Harry in her wake.

"Sal? Why would you call for Sal?" He pestered, his nose wrinkled.

Rowena looked towards him and silently gestured for him to take a seat at the desk before her, Harry did so. But before he could question her again, Salazar strode into the classroom, his face twisted in an expression of displeasure.

"What is it, Rowena? Your elf popped into my personal labs just as I was mixing, it is fortunate that she hadn't apparated any closer otherwise we would not be stood here." Salazar declared grimly, having come to a standstill just between the two desks. His expression loosened when he glanced down at Harry.

"I apologise, Salazar. But it would seem our young warlock here has been having some trouble with his sight." Rowena said, enlightening both Salazar and Harry to the workings of her mind.

Once the words had settled in, Harry balked in rebuttal and snapped his attention towards the dark haired witch.

"I do not!" Harry said indignantly.

The two adults ignored him though in favour of sharing a silent look, then Sal narrowed his sharp eyes in thought. "Is that so?"

Rowena nodded and then gestured over towards the chalkboard, "I found him straining to make out the runes I provided for this lesson, and when I asked him to account them aloud for me, he missed a few vital depictions."

Salazar hummed and crossed his arms over his chest, he paid no heed to Harry's attempts to justify his actions. He merely hushed the boy with a wave of his hand and moved to better observe the board, Harry glowered but quietened.

When Sal finally spoke, it was for Harry to follow yet another instruction. "Describe the last rune."

Harry exhaled obnoxiously but the two founders simply waited, faces stoic.

"It's the ancient rune for chill." He shrugged after a second glance at the board, where he was overly aware of his body's reactions, not wanting to show any sign of difficulty.

"Wrong." Salazar announced in his usual drawl, "It is in fact smoke."

Harry frowned and jumped up to get a better look at the board. Stepping past Sal, he found that upon closer inspection the man was indeed correct. Harry stood and stared at the many runes with a furrowed brow, questioning just how he had missed the vital strokes.

"I could have sworn..."

Harry didn't startle when Rowena's comforting palm settled between the blades of his shoulders, instead he turned to meet her with a tight expression. He felt rather stupid.

The witch treated him to a rare grin that wrinkled the skin at the corners of her eyes. "There is no shame in admitting you need help, Harry. Especially when it is needed."

Harry's gaze dropped to his feet.

"How long have you been struggling with this, Little Serpens?" Salazar questioned, Harry inhaled and slowly looked up at him.

"I'm not sure. I didn't think-"

Harry stopped short, somewhat frustrated with himself. Both Salazar and Rowena stepped forward to offer some comfort.

"It is not something to be hindered by, Harry. This can be easily fixed." The witch soothed, but Harry's face contorted in doubt.

"It is true, Snakelet." Salazar added, "I am quite certain that I can mix something up for you, although I do think I will have to contact an old friend of mine to help aid me."

"Perhaps Merlin will know something too." Rowena added helpfully.

Sal nodded in thought, Harry could already see the many gears in the man's head turning.

"So, it can be helped?" He prompted, wide eyes darting between the two founders. "I'll be able to see clearly again?"

Rowena chuckled faintly just as Salazar smiled.

The man left the two of them to their lesson soon after that, Rowena moved the chalkboard closer to Harry's seat so that he could view them more easily and even went as far to rewrite all the work she had set on a spare piece of parchment for him.

Harry gave her a grateful thanks to show his appreciation, even if he was still a little self-conscious about the whole ordeal. He only hoped that Sal could truly make a cure, but his mind was put at ease when he recounted all the workings of the qualified potioneer. He knew his sight was in the best and most capable hands.

—

"Amato Animo Animato Animagus."

This was the seventh sundown. The seventh day Harry had spent chanting the same four words.

An electrical storm was coming, Merlin had warned them of its brewing. Whilst the others had taken to prepping and planning for it, Salazar had gotten this insightful glint in his steely grey eyes. It was close now, he just had to wait it out, wait for the-

There it was! Harry grinned, almost manically, as the tip of his wand pressed against his chest. He continued to chant, feeling the second heartbeat flutter to life just under the skin and bone. He had to keep waiting.

"Amato Animo Animato Animagus."

A flash tore through the sky above, the quickest of blips that if Harry had blinked, he would have surely missed. His heart all but leapt to his throat and in a second his feet were pounding down the castle's cobbled steps and across the dew covered fields towards a huddle of oversized trees.

Harry sprinted along the edge of the Black Lake, skin beading with sweat, blood rushing, then dropped down to his knees in front of a towering beech tree which stood alone. Wand still in hand, he used his left to dig at the dampened dirt that surrounded the tree's tan trunk.

Waiting for him, exactly where he had left it, was the crystal phial Harry had planted a week earlier, in a place quiet and dark.

Harry shouldn't have been surprised to see the mouthful of blood-red potion the phial now held but he couldn't help it, it had actually worked! All his efforts had finally paid off.

With a trembling hand, Harry fished out the phial. Just as he did another flash erupted, scarring the stormy sky above for the briefest of seconds. Panting, Harry hurried out from under the beech tree's winding branches to a yellowed clearing not far from the lake.

A shaky exhale had him raising his wand once more, he breathed life into his next words.

"Amato Animo Animato Animagus."

Then with the crystal phial pressed to his lips, he downed the potion.

Almost instantly a fiery pain ripped through him, travelling across his skin and zipping through his veins. He almost wanted to cry out, but couldn't find the strength. And then the heartbeat he had felt earlier thumped alongside his own, it pounded in his ears like a rushing waterfall colliding with a bed of jagged rocks. It was intense, powerful.

Harry forced himself to breathe and opened his eyes.

He was thankful that he had, because before him stood the most elegant predator, it watched him carefully with sharp eyes, or rather observed his every movement, every breath. The background of the dark lake sat directly behind it, murky and black, a sight to behold.

Harry swallowed thickly, heartbeats still thrumming within, and met the animal's gaze head on.

He continued to breathe. He knew that he could show no fear. He repeated those words like a mantra, willing his body to follow his minds lead.

Ever so cautiously, even with every cell in his body warning him against it, Harry steadily lowered his right arm. Almost simultaneously the animal tracked the movement, its keen eyes never faltered. Harry showed no outward alarm though, desperate to prove that he was of no threat, as he continued to move his arm so that he could pocket his wand.

Salazar had warned him about this next part, he was to be wary of all the things that could possibly go wrong from this point onwards. But now Harry also had to fret over the added detail of his animagus form having the ability to crush his head with only the hold of its jaw.

He briefly wondered just why he had been so eager to accomplish this obscenely complex task. He hadn't felt anxiety like this since he and Ric had tried to pull a fast one over on Sal a few years previous. That had been the first and very last time. The two of them had agreed since to never speak of the incident again, mainly in fear of angering the dark haired wizard once more, but in that moment the memory helped to ease Harry's troubles.

The animal prowled closer, attentive and observant. It was intelligent, Harry could see that in the way it moved so stealthily, it understood that it had the upper-hand here.

Harry allowed it to circle him and tried not to be intimidated by its size. It was no dragon, nor griffin, but it was deadly when under threat. Harry knew that if he attempted to run now the animal would pounce before he had stepped a toe out of line.

He breathed in slowly and felt his chest expand, rising until he was ready to let the air go.

The next thing Harry became aware of was the sudden darkness, he couldn't remember closing his eyes but it was clear that he hadn't moved an inch. The animal brushed against his left hand and Harry focused so intensely to keep his fingers from twitching, then his knees from buckling as the creature drew closer. Its body was strong, firm, against his thighs.

Time passed and Harry became overly aware of something pressing against his abdomen, he wrestled with his mind to continue breathing steadily, though it was a hard task to fair.

Just when Harry thought that he could hold out no longer, something snapped into place and everything changed.

Immediately, he wrenched his eyes open and was shocked to be viewing the world from a whole other standpoint. The height difference wouldn't have been too dramatic for any one watching, but now Harry's gaze seemed to be level with where his stomach should have been. And that fleeting thought was staggering.

In a bout of joy Harry spun around but was bewildered by the odd feeling of having to manoeuvre four legs rather than his usual two. The flash of fur just out of the corner of his sharpened vision caught his attention and so he spun again to try and catch sight of it once more.

A yip seemed to escape him just as he tripped over himself, landing stomach first in the bed of grass. He snorted at the unexpectedness of it all but was up again in a flash and sprinted towards the lake's edge.

Wary now of the water, unsure if he'd be able to swim, Harry toed the lake's edge to peer into its glassy pool. He startled back at the surprise.

Though he hadn't expected to see his face, it was still a strange concept seeing something other. But even without his recognisable head of hair and warm olive complexion, when Harry went to peek back into the water his reflection still felt oddly familiar.

He had a thick fur coat, sleek and black, rippled with a dark, gunmetal grey. His eyes were still as green as the killing curse, only more vivid, if possible, in this form and having taken on an almond shape. His snout was the thing that had his head tilting, and he huffed at the amusing picture he painted in the lake's reflection. White tinted the edgings of his wet nose and trickled down his neck until they faded out into the raven colour that coated the rest of his body. A lightning patch of silver sat just above his right eye, where Harry knew his scar was meant to be.

It was then that a harsh wind rolled over the water and instantly Harry became aware of every one of his senses. He could smell the change in weather, the dew that clung to the grass stems around him, the creatures that lived below the surface of the lake. He could hear a nest of hares- and he knew that they were hares simply because of how fast they were jumping, their footfalls too heavy to be that of a rabbit- just beyond the cluster of trees a mile or so out. As well as the Bowtruckle colony that littered the island sat within the confines of the large lake.

Harry's eyes snapped up and he darted around so that he could see the castle, he could hear the clatter inside, smell the food currently being prepared. He didn't second guess his next movement, simply ran.

He sprinted through the fields, past the Owlery and over the path that led down to the Dark Forest, all the way up to where the hills towered highest.

Harry couldn't help the chilling howl that escaped him upon looking out at the breathtaking landscape before him. He had actually managed it!

He howled once more but quickly quietened once he heard a distant howl sound in return.

He was panting as he took in everything around him, he jumped from paw to paw, spun in more circles than deemed necessary, and then decided to head back to the castle's main entrance. There he found a familiar group waiting for him.

The five of them seemed to pause when they finally did spot him entering the mossy courtyard, and so Harry slowed his movements and came to a stop a good distance away. He lowered his body into a position he hoped was nonthreatening and snuffed at them.

Godric was the first to move, his face broke out into a large youthful grin and he laughed, unable to help the loud, happy sound that came from deep within.

Merlin and Rowena were next. The witch gasped before she too smiled, turning to share her joy with the applauding wizard beside her.

Helga unfroze when Godric, in his elation, swept her up into an embrace. She laughed merrily as the tall man whooped.

Then there was only Salazar.

Harry shuffled closer slowly, dragging his belly across the stone, and inwardly hoped that his form hadn't disappointed the man.

Sal stepped forward before any of the others could, his first step was measured but then the rest seemed to follow easily as he hurried to meet Harry halfway.

Relieved, Harry could only picture every memory he'd ever shared with the wizard as he stood up and strode closer. Just before he could leap into the wizards hold though, he shifted and fell into Sal's outstretched arms.

"Oh, little Snakelet." Salazar murmured in Harry's ear as the boy clung to him. "You were incredible."

Harry huffed out a wet laugh and his grip on the man tightened.

The others quickly came to join them, all of whom were wearing prideful grins.

Harry sniffled as Sal pulled away, wanting the boy to share his great accomplishment with them all.

"You!" Godric bellowed as soon as he was close enough and tugged Harry into his chest, "Gods, that was- I have no words!"

Salazar snorted, "Now that is a first."

Godric, with Harry now under his arm, tried to shove the other man but Sal merely swatted away his attempt. Harry was pleased to find him still grinning.

"Harry. You were beautiful." Helga complimented as she cupped his cheek. Harry leant into her warm touch.

Rowena captured his chin next and Harry witnessed the delight that swam in her intelligent eyes. He could see how proud she was.

"Pay up, Merlin. I win!" Harry overheard Ric shout out, and he turned to see what the redhead was on about.

Godric stood, face plastered with a large grin, his hand outstretched towards the other wizard. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"You did no such thing." Merlin retorted, "The boy was no lion, Godric."

"But it was near enough!"

Rowena chuckled and shook her head, "It truly wasn't. Far from it, in fact."

"Four legs, paws, a tail! That, to me, is close enough." Godric told the duo.

"Godric, you are making a fool of yourself." Salazar joined in, "He was greater than anything close to one of your juvenile lions."

Godric gaped openly at his friend. "And your bet was better? You claimed he would be a serpent!"

"If I recall correctly, I laid a fair few options on the table." Sal smirked with a certain air of smugness.

"Oh, all of you, hush." Helga laughed with a darling smile. "The boy did it! Long before any of you even attempted. Thirteen years old and he has the ability to shift into such a wondrous creature! How did you fair, Harry?"

Harry smiled lazily up at the woman and released a breath. "It was like nothing else."

The five of them laughed and Salazar allowed the boy to lean against his side as he watched his family share his joy. When he felt the man peer down at him, Harry turned his head.

"And here I was hoping you would have to go another month with that mandrake leaf in your mouth." Salazar sighed, feigning despair.

Harry scowled up at him but then the dark haired wizard smirked and moved to wrap an arm around his shoulders, Harry grinned.

§You are still a snake, even if you now hide in wolf's clothing.§ The man added smugly in Parseltongue.

Harry laughed merrily before he tried out a howl. His grin broadened upon seeing Sal's smile.