Throwing Out the Books

Grindelwald's Library, May 14th

Meditation was fairly simple. The animagus transformation was not.

Clear your mind. Empty yourself of emotion. Drift away with only your key characteristics in mind.

Harry Potter laughed at the contradictory nature of the advice. Know yourself, but don't think about it. Clear your mind, but focus on yourself. Maybe, somewhere in the convoluted mess that was the animagus transformation there were some good ideas, but it was likely lost along the way.

No, Harry was done with the traditional approach. It had been over six months since Viktor found his form, and it was time to try something different.

Rather than clearing his mind, Harry opened himself up completely. If any Legilimens were to so much as walk into the room, they'd zero in on him immediately, which was why he was practicing by himself. Not that he didn't trust Calypso – in fact, he trusted her more than ever before. She had promised not to tell anyone about his use of an unforgivable, even going so far as to allow Harry to use Legilimency on her to confirm her truthfulness.

Still, that didn't mean he wanted someone – anyone really – to see him like this. Not when he would be so focused he wouldn't even detect the Legilimency.

Sitting on the floor, Harry did his best to relax.

Thoughts came and went uninhibited, plans, goals, ideas. He let himself jump from subject to subject, not once trying to reel in his thought process. Thoughts of Ivan's detention came and went, along with a dozen other memories. Each having their own importance, but not one defining him. He was more than any one thing, he was the sum of his life. Nothing more, nothing less.

He was a wizard – a great one – or he would be someday. Perhaps that was arrogant of him, but he didn't care. Harry admitted arrogance was certainly one of a few negative traits he had. The fact that after six months he still refused to even consider that he couldn't become an animagus certainly gave some credence to that. The difference was that he didn't just believe he would be a great wizard, he worked at it – obsessed over it according to Calypso – but that wasn't a bad thing.

The jealousy he once felt over his brother's patronus had fueled him to do better himself. He had feared succeeding in the Dark Arts once. Now he just wanted to improve because regardless of whether he improved, someone else would. Someone would study the magic, someone could use his ignorance against him.

Losing. Being beaten again. He was done with that. Not because he feared it, but because he should be better than that.

The best. That was what he would be. He loved to learn, to succeed.

Slowly, he felt all his other emotions begin to ebb away. That's what he was really about, what he craved more than anything else. Besides being loyal to a few friends and family members, nothing else mattered to him. Learning, striving to become the smartest, the strongest, the greatest wizard he could ever be, that's who he was.

Abruptly, Harry realized something was very wrong. There was a painful tugging in his chest, and his entire body shuddered involuntarily.

Instinctively, Harry opened his eyes, only to discover that his vision was off slightly.

Terrified that he had somehow messed up the Animagus transformation, Harry tried to stand, only to realize that he now had four legs and no arms. Unused to having an extra pair of legs, he lost his balance and tipped forward, smashing his face against the floor. Scrambling, Harry did his best to comprehend what had happened. Had he found his animagus form? If so, what was he?

As soon as the question was asked, the answer seemed to come to him. Images of an elegant, muscular, and powerful four legged creature entered his mind. He had a well proportioned chest, a short back, and a lean, muscular neck. His hair was black and it clung tightly to his body. He could feel his strong and sharp teeth, and he knew that his bite was fierce, but that didn't matter right now. He had a job to do, a goal, and he'd succeed... if he could only remember what it was.

He felt the urge to run and play in the back of his mind, but only with a select few people, always only with a select few. The rest, the others, they weren't to be trusted. Them he would watch carefully – though not lash out at. No he was calm, collected, and always under control, but should they ever dare step out of line, then they'd learn of his fierce bite.

The sound of the door opening caused Harry to spin around. A low warning growl escaped his lips, and he felt his leg coil and stiffen, ready to attack at a moment's notice.

As soon as he saw Calypso, he relaxed and his aggression seemed to immediately disappear, replaced by a sense of relief and playfulness. Testing out his new limbs, he began happily trotting over to her. When Calypso saw him, she quickly drew her wand, causing Harry to immediately halt his advance in confusion. Resting his back legs, he sat down and stared up at Calypso. He felt his tongue roll out of the side of his mouth. Why didn't she want to play?

After a brief staring contest, Calypso's eyes widened slightly. "Harry?"

Woof!

Calypso laughed and quickly ran over to him. "You're beautiful," she cooed before rubbing her hands throughout his thin fur coat.

Leaning into Calypso's touch, Harry relaxed.