First Place - Angst

After what looked like a brief argument with Ron, Harry stood on his seat in the great hall and magnified his voice to make an announcement. Of course, all he had to do was stand where everyone could see him. Harry attracted attention without even trying.

"To correct several of the rumors I've heard lately," Harry started, instantly assuring that every ear would be tuned in to him, "no, I have not been signed onto a professional quidditch team. No, I have not been horribly injured or diagnosed with a debilitating incurable disease.

"On Saturday I officially resigned from the position of Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. My reasons are my own, and any questions about them will be answered with a very well aimed uncomfortable hex." Harry punctuated the last with a glare worthy of Severus.

Harry sat back down and went about eating breakfast as though he hadn't done a thing out of the ordinary. Hedwig had flown in the window of Severus's quarters on early Saturday with a note from Harry.

Dad,

I quit the quidditch team. The damn snitch glows green. I'll be fine.

Harry

Severus had not for a moment believed that Harry would be fine, as the word 'fine' for Harry was synonymous with 'miserable', but he respected his wishes and left him alone... after he checked Lupin's map to make sure Harry wasn't moping in some unused corner of the castle. Students couldn't harm themselves on the grounds of the school because of a ward cast a few hundred years before, but Harry managed to break every other rule that should be impossible to break.

He would not see Harry that night, nor the next two nights. Potions class on Thursday would be his first chance to talk with his son regarding the latest development. The staff rotated overseeing the meetings of the Head Boy and Girl with the prefects. In some years it was to ensure they stayed on topic.

In others it was to make sure the Head Boy, like Percy Weasley, or Head Girl did not let their egos get in the way of their job. This year the professor would be keeping Granger from lecturing for hours on end and Malfoy from casting snide comments about. He might be officially on the side of light, but Draco Malfoy would always be Draco Malfoy.

As Minerva had drawn the lot for that week Severus had no doubt that the meeting would be succinct and productive. She was almost more excited about Harry's animagus lessons than Harry was and must have been irritated about the short delay so she could oversee the prefects.

All Harry had been willing to say about the animagus lesson he had the previous Tuesday was that it was hard and it hurt. When he had brought up the subject with Minerva she just smiled and changed the topic of conversation.

Weasley tumbled out of the fireplace, all flailing limbs, at precisely eight. He had removed his school robes and was in casual muggle clothing, most likely by Harry's advice. The not quite so gangly anymore redhead brushed himself off and smiled tentatively at Severus.

"You are a wizard Ron," Severus said disparagingly. "Surely you can get rid of a few ashes without depositing them on my carpet."

"Oops, um, sorry sir," Ron fumbled for his wand and cleaned himself off, then after a minute took care of the carpet as well.

Severus watched Weasley stand there uncomfortably for a few minutes and made sure his own face showed no emotion. Just as the teen began to fidget Severus gestured towards a small table with two chairs.

"Sit."

"Yes sir."

Severus sat across from him and summoned his chess set. It set itself up and Severus lifted his eyebrows.

"You're not going to try to get into my mind?" Weasley asked, confused.

"Not tonight," Severus said to the obvious relief of the younger wizard. "The method I used in teaching Harry was necessary to make him learn quickly, little good that it did us. I told you we will be taking a different approach. Choose your color."

Weasley studied Severus for a moment, "I'll take white."

The board spun and the game began. When the first distraction caught Weasley's attention, a book falling off the shelf, Severus smirked.

"Pay attention to the game, nothing else," Severus ordered sternly. "If the castle catches fire ignore it. If Death Eaters surround us ignore it. There is only chess."

The look on his student's face was priceless. Slowly though it morphed into determination, like any Gryffindor faced with a challenge. Despite his attempts at single-minded concentration all the noises and little explosions of light that Severus had set up earlier made Weasley jump and flinch.

Even distracted and jumpy Weasley played a good game of chess. Severus won, though he suspected the result would have been much different without the distractions. They had played a few times at Grimmauld Place and this was the first game Severus had won against the redhead.

"Read this for next week," Severus handed a mildly dazed Ron Weasley a book. "I expect you to be familiar with its contents. If the nightmares are bad talk to Harry and get some of the Good Dreams potions from him. I might have to adjust it for you but this is one year you need all the sleep you can get."

Weasley just nodded, took the book, and went back to Gryffindor Tower through the fire.

Elsewhere in the castle Harry was in his second animagus lesson of the semester.

"You have to focus on the change Harry," Minerva said firmly.

Harry nodded. He knew he had to focus. It was just that whenever he focused that hard on anything lately he started seeing all the magic around him. He was trying to focus beyond that but finding it very trying.

His eyes closed, and sitting on a conjured cushion, Harry focused. Immediately the space around him, even through his closed eyes, was alight with color. McGonagall was a bit brighter than his father, something he was not about to tell either one of them. It would only serve as ammunition in their constant ongoing friendly argument.

Instead of trying to ignore the glow of magic all around him Harry tried to focus on just one bit of it. He focused on the red thread of his own magic, as it reminded him of the red of Fawkes's feathers. He used that to focus on the form of a phoenix, making his red thread of magic into the red phoenix feathers. A feeling like tiny pins pricking his skin all over made Harry break concentration.

"Well, that's progress," McGonagall was definitely finding something amusing and Harry knew it had to be him.

Harry opened his eyes and saw the mirror she was holding up. He was covered, head to toe, in red feathers. Most of said feathers were underneath clothing and thus were being held in very uncomfortable positions. Harry waved his hand and banished his shirt, making him slightly more comfortable. He was contemplating whether he could get rid of his boxers without banishing his trousers as well... as the feathers would go away at some point and he would still be with his professor.

"Ouch!" Harry exclaimed, broken out of his musings as Professor McGonagall plucked a feather from him. He stroked his arm with his fingernails, rather than rubbing the sore spot, knowing somewhere that the feathers should only be petted in one direction.

"For comparison," the Transfiguration Professor was highly amused as she held up the brilliant red feather. Another feather was summoned from her desk and the two were held up.

"We could have done that without pulling it from me," Harry grumped.

In his previous lesson he had been transfigured back and forth between phoenix and human multiple times. Minerva, though he still had trouble calling her that, had told him that it was not his exact animagus form she was transforming him into, as she did not know exactly what it looked like. He had dropped a feather during one of the transformations though and she kept it for future reference.

"Identical," McGonagall pursued her lips, then smiled at Harry. "I may have been closer last week than we suspected."

"In the meantime," Harry was getting irritated, "do I need to keep the feathers?"

"No, of course not," McGonagall flicked her wand his way and his skin was once again smooth, excepting the scars, and featherless.

Harry rubbed his arms to try to get rid of the lingering itch from having feathers sprout and disappear. It wasn't as bad as last week. He had been sore all over after that and exhausted. It gave him an unwanted sympathy for the ferret-Draco incident in fourth year.

"Eh, ehm," Minerva cleared her throat and Harry turned towards her. "I take it your father knows about that?"

"About...?" Harry had absolutely no idea what she was talking about... until a fluttering on his chest made him look down at the tattoo. "Oh, that."

"Yes that," Minerva fixed him in place with a stern look. "Does Severus know?"

"No?" Harry looked at his professor hopefully. "Please don't tell him. I've been meaning to but there just hasn't been a good time."

"Tell him soon Harry," McGonagall ordered. "Tattoos are not uncommon among wizards, which is one reason the Dark Mark went unnoticed for what it was for so long." She paused, as though uncertain whether to continue, "Do not hide from him Harry. Little infractions will not change how he feels about you." Harry only had a few seconds to consider what she said. He had been afraid to talk to his father about many things. "Now, try again."

Harry nodded and pushed all other thought out of his mind. He tried concentrating on the anatomy of a phoenix, the feet, tail, wings, beak...

He clamped his hands over his mouth, and then shook out his right hand. He had nearly impaled it on the beak that was on his face in place of a mouth. A wave of concern washed over him and he looked over to McGonagall.

"Let me see your hand," she hand her wand out.

"It's fine," Harry said, wondering how he was able to talk through the beak. He must have only changed his lips, leaving the rest of his mouth and his vocal cords.

"Nonsense," McGonagall said forcefully. "Phoenix beaks are sharp. Let me see that hand."

Frustrated, Harry held out his hand palm up. McGonagall blinked a few times, then took his hand in hers and examined it carefully. The hand had hurt at first but there was no blood, not even a mark, and the pain had all but faded away.

"I suppose this another side affect of your adoption," McGonagall said eventually.

Harry shrugged, "Must be."

"Do not start thinking yourself invincible Harry," the professor warned.

"Don't worry," Harry held up a hand to forestall the lecture. "I am quite aware of my own mortality." He began to wave his hand to get rid of the beak.

"Stop!" Harry paused mid-gesture and looked at his teacher expectantly. "Do not use transfiguration to return to normal. Remember your mouth as it should be and let your body resume its normal state."

Harry nodded and concentrated, thinking about what his lips felt like, how they looked. He kept his eyes open this time and managed to ignore the glow around him. It was the oddest feeling as the beak disappeared and his lips returned. He felt with his hand just to make sure and heard a little chuckle.

"It is common for animagus students to be wary," McGonagall commented. "That should be enough for tonight. Do not try to transform when you're alone."

Harry nodded. She said the same thing often. This time he answered with a mischievous smile, "If I get stuck I could just blame it on the twins."

The reaction he got was not what he had been expecting, "Those little..."

"Professor?" Harry was taken aback by the sudden display of McGonagall's temper.

"Your father had to have antlers removed by Poppy in the first month of his fifth year," a reminiscent look crossed her face and Harry could feel affection coming from her. "They claimed your godfather played a joke on him and couldn't remember how to reverse it... or how he made the joke in the first place. Such things were common enough around them that we believed it. It helped them that Remus believed it too."

Harry grinned. He had heard so many stories about his father and Sirius that summer that it no longer hurt so much to hear them mentioned. He left the classroom, McGonagall going to her fireplace to call Remus and no doubt fill him on her latest revelation.

It was a short walk to Gryffindor Tower and there were only a few people in the common room. He greeted them all, stopping to talk with one eager third year about her Defense Against the Dark Arts homework for a few minutes, and climbed the stairs to his dormitory. He flopped onto his bed and stared up at his canopy, debating whether to get out his books and try to get some work done or to see if he could get some sleep.

Even when he took his potion it was typical for Harry not to fall asleep until rather late. Tired from his lessons he had a good chance to actually get a full night's sleep. Just as he contemplated getting up and changing into nightclothes the door to the room opened and someone who was feeling rather confused walked in and collapsed on the bed opposite his.

"That you Ron?"

"Yeah," Harry's best friend paused. "What does chess have to do with Occlumency?"

Harry sat up and parted his curtains to se Ron hadn't drawn his. They faced each other across the aisle between the beds.

"Chess?" Harry looked at the redhead in confusion of his own.

"All we did was play chess," Ron said, scratching his head. "Then he gave me this book and told me to go and clear my mind at night."

Ron tosses the book the few feet that separated them as they sat at the foot of their beds. Harry looked at the cover, Defending Your Mind. He opened it and looked at the Table of Contents then flipped through the chapters. It was a fairly thin book and had several illustrations.

"Looks pretty good," Harry tossed the book back. "You just played chess?"

"Yeah," Ron still looked perplexed, "but it was like playing with the twins testing all their new products next to me. Things kept falling and flashing and banging..."

Harry started laughing. It was like his father to come up with the perfect way to teach Ron but not explain it to him.

"What?" Ron demanded as his face slowly started to get red.

"Occlumency requires focus," Harry smiled and explained to his friend. "You need to be able to clear your mind of all thought before you can get your first shields up, and then you have to be able to focus on a single thing to raise them again."

"Oh," Ron's red faded. "That was... I think I get it now." Harry grinned. "How did you clear your mind?"

The grin faded and Harry felt that aching sadness that came whenever he thought too much about the prophecy. There was usually determination as well, as he was going to go down fighting and hopefully take Voldemort with him.

"You'll have to find a different way Ron," Harry looked away from his friend. "I managed over that summer." Harry could feel guilt and sadness that were not his own. He turned to look at the redhead again. "Stop it Ron. I just think about it sometimes. It's not your fault and I won't ever do that again."

Ron instantly stopped the guilt and felt amazement, "Now Charlie never did anything like that!"

"He can," Harry smiled, glad to change the subject.

Neville came in soon after and joined their conversation, now about Gryffindor's quidditch prospects. Harry was still furious that he couldn't play, but he was a bit thankful that he no longer had to attend all the practices. Between Ron and Ginny the team was getting worked hard. Harry came occasionally to coach the replacement seeker, pulled from the backup team, and the third year girl was shaping up nicely.

Dean and Seamus entered the room laughing and the three other seventh year Gryffindors were distracted by the tale they had. The two of them had teamed with Ginny, having decided that the castle was too quiet without Fred and George creating havoc, and had charmed several of the suits of armor to sing raucous drinking songs.

"You and Ginny?" Ron asked their roommates fearfully.

"Don't worry Ron," Dean sat next to him and thumped his back, "I'm not dating your sister." He had apparently heard about the train ride after fifth year.

"But only because I am," Seamus grinned so wide his teeth all showed.

Wands were out in a flash and Ron sent a hex towards Seamus, who deflected it. Unfortunately it hit Neville, who was unprepared for battle to break out in his own room. Harry set up a shield around his bed and settled back to watch the fun. He cheered on Neville, who froze the other three, turned his skin back to its normal color, and gave the others amusing changes to their anatomy.

It was another hour before the three cursed Gryffindors figured out how to change each other back to normal, as Harry was laughing too hard to help each time they approached him. Ron's weasel snout, Seamus's leprechaun ears and eyes, and Dean's alligator tail were just too much fun to reverse quickly.

While the other three struggled with human transfiguration Harry and Neville got to work on their first round of essays for the year. In transfigurations they were finally studying conjuring. Charms was beginning the practice of combining spells, and they would touch on creating your own spells at the end of the year, though that was mostly Arithmancy so they wouldn't actually create any.

"Okay Nev," Harry had out three different transfigurations books, "if I want to conjure up a tea cup where does it come from?"

Neville didn't even bother flipping through the books, "It's magic Harry. It doesn't really come from anywhere."

"It has to come from somewhere," Harry insisted. "You can't just make something from nothing."

"You're thinking like a muggle Harry," Neville insisted.

When the others were fully human again they joined the debate, which lasted until late in the night. At one point Harry reflected that Hermione should be there to see them all discussing home work like that. Four shocked faces turned to him, amazed that they had been acting like Ravenclaws.

Finding the Key - Chapter 21

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