Chapter Text
Snape always considered the idea of teaching students the Animagus ritual foolish. It was practically begging for trouble. What could go wrong? He mentally mocked behind a scowl. Perhaps a mutant cat-child? A stammered spell because of the Mandrake leaf in their mouth? Maybe even several students consuming one another... The only good thing about the idea was that McGonagall required students to pass several tests before allowing them to try such a ritual. Even then, how she thought any child should be trusted with a ritual of such complexity and with such low reward was beyond him. They may be in their later years of classes, but the point still stood.
Snape felt relatively validated about his thoughts currently. Even as he felt the doom of approaching chaos... He allowed himself a moment of pride. Snape had been proven right. He had gotten a frantic owl in his study, the bird thrusting a letter to his chest. The letter was written so fast it wasn't charmed or inside an envelope.
No. Instead, inky letters told a story atop stained paper that Harry Potter, of all children, had become an Animagus. More importantly, he was currently panicking. They couldn't even get a hold of the boy long enough to figure out WHAT he was, aside from some bird. There was something about Malfoy, but Snape tossed the letter aside before finishing it.
Snape growled, looking up the stairway as he heard something clatter. The distant racket was met with the shrill yells of several students. The sounds of chaos threatened to form the headache inside his skull into a migraine. Snape sighed, fully ascending the stone stairs. As he approached the door to McGonagall's classroom, Snape began to prepare himself. He didn't waste time, pulling a vial from his pocket. Hopefully, one good splash would force the young man into a human form...
Snape came to the heavy doors, kicking the unlocked barrier open. He ripped the plug from the vial as he looked across the classroom.
The rather cozy classroom was in an uproar. The first thing Snape noticed was a blond serpent racing across the cowering forms of several students. The children flinched and yelped as the snake dashed across their cowering backs. It hissed, the sound oddly familiar. Snape narrowed his eyes at it before a flash of red fluttered across his vision. A weight smacked into him, bringing with it noticeable heat. The weight stumbled atop his head, feathers dragging into his mouth and poking into his eyes.
Snape sputtered, dropping the vial's cap to shoot a hand to the thing atop his face. His fingers dug into feathery warmth and brushed against the soft skin underneath. A loud squawk stung his ears as wings smacked at his head, taloned feet clawing for grip against his collar. A bird? McGonigall's note...
"Harry..." Snape growled, glareing past the feathers flapping his face. The avian body atop him startled at the name but didn't stop flapping. If Harry was here, the snake must be...
"Malfoy..." Snape growled, brushing a wing off his face with an arm.
The blond snake slid to a stop at his shoes, mouth snapping shut so quickly that its fangs stuck out over its lip. Icey grey eyes were the sealing feature. As much as he favored the boy over Potter, he could already guess what had happened. Malfoy loved to torment Harry, after all. The moment Malfoy turned into a snake and Harry into a bird, Malfoy must have lunged.
The snake-shaped Malfoy ducked his head. The serpent timidly folding his fangs into his mouth. Atop Snape's shoulder, Harry seemed to calm. He must have noticed his tormenter had subdued. The avian body shifted, pulling feathers off Snape's face and out of his hair.
Snape roughly pointed to his dropped vial cap, glaring at his favored student.
The serpent meekly nodded, changing back into the shape of a teen. As he stood, Malfoy plucked the cap from the floor, keeping his chin down as he offered it to Snape on an open palm.
Snape snapped his fingers around the item, yanking it away before plugging the vial he held. Then, with a sigh, he looked forward.
The class was still crouching, even McGonagall tightly hunkered while clutching her hat.
"I believe I'm no longer needed..." Snape droned.
McGonagall peeked first, eyes wide. "Oh?" She began. Her worried gaze quickly turned into relief. "Oh!" She chirped, standing with a smile. "I knew you would resolve their little spat quickly... Thank you, Snape."
The students slowly stood, many glancing around before turning and staring...
At Snape.
Snape felt his scowl twitch as he glared at the classroom. "What." He hissed. A student or two flinched but didn't say a thing.
"Professor..." Malfoy began. Only he was brave enough to speak...
Snape raised a brow as he looked down at the boy. Malfoy's eyes darted between Snape's gaze and his shoulder, and he noticed a weight sitting there. Snape turned, slowly seeing the sitting form of Harry's Animagus form. Perched, fluffed, and apparently asleep.
Harry was clearly some species of red bird. He bore a yellow tail and belly feathers. Atop his head was the same glossy black as his human body, and a patch of white surrounded the boy's eyes like spectacles. He was relatively lightweight. Snape could barely feel him. The most noticeable feature of the boy's presence was the warmth wafting off his feathers.
Snape himself didn't understand what he was looking at. He thought the boy would have fled when he realized he was touching his feared professor. Yet Harry sat perched on him? Had Harry nocked his brain loose while fleeing Malfory?
McGonagall chuckled out of sight. "He must have gotten tired, being chased around like that." The woman could be heard moving across the classroom, eventually stepping over the doorway.
Snape turned her way, stiff and uncomfortable. He wasn't a fan of touching, and a student was currently sitting on him. "Remove him," Snape drawled, scowl turning to a snarl. He tried to lean away from the weight atop him. He awkwardly lifted his shoulder, rolling it the limb, attempting to make the boy jump off.
McGonagall nodded, raising her hands to Snape's shoulder, slipping her fingers between Harry and the cloak. "Come now, Harry. You don't want to get detention with Malfoy, do you?" Harry was lifted easily, taloned feet curling under him.
"Detention!?" Malfoy suddenly helped, earning Snape's focus again. The boy flinched at the attention but looked back to McGonagall with worried brows. "Detention?" He asked for more quietly this time.
McGonagall huffed as he cradled the napping Harry to her chest. "OH!" She scoffed. "Don't act like you didn't earn it! You nearly ate your classmate!" The woman glared weakly, never able to truly glower at her students. Her face turned a little red, a color matched by Malfoy in his growing embarrassment.
"I didn't knock down the bookshelf, though!" Malfoy protested.
McGonagall puffed, cheeks fully the color of ripe tomatoes. "It's not about the books! It's about giving in to such vile urges! You lot have never seen me eat a bird, have you?" The woman did her best to snap.
Harry let out a sleepy cry, sinking his head deeper into his fluffing body. McGonagall gently patted the boy's back, offering him a hush before returning to Malfoy. "You're lucky I'm not retracting more than five points from Slytherin!"
"Five!?" Malfoy squawked.
Snape cuffed the boy in the back of the head, making his blond hair loose from its sleaked form. "Take your punishment in stride, Malfoy..." He growled to the student.
There was a quiet bird-like chuckle, but when Snape looked at Harry, he seemed asleep.
Snape felt his mind throb with pain. He hissed at the blooming hurt. Malfoy flinched as Snape pressed a hand to his own head. Snape ran his fingers across his neck, expecting a cut or gash. But despite the pain, when he pulled back his hand to look, no blood stained his fingers. So, Snape just turned to his fellow teacher.
"Unless you want me to force him from..." Snape looked over Harry, pausing at the avian form. Something about the long flowing tail and shiny beak itched a memory in Snape. Still, he continued. "THIS," Snape motioned with a hand before looking the McGonagall in the eyes. "I'll return to my study."
McGonagall smiled sweetly, patting Harry on the back. "Oh, He'll be fine now..." Harry purred in her arms, a single green eye peeking open. "Thank you for your help, Snape."
Snape gave the woman a stiff nod before turning away. He left without another word, intent on drinking something to calm the pain blooming in his head.
-__----__-
Snape pulled a book off the shelf in his personal library. He quickly flipped to the avian section, looking over the diagrams. He was confident he'd seen the bird Harry had turned into before... And this was the most likely spot. He'd poured over the pages of this book many times over, searching for the proper ingredient for the right potion. He stood as he skimmed, looking over all shapes of birds and the sort.
The lips of a chicken were typically used to plump pale skin... Why do the young girls in his class find that so fascinating? Snape had no idea.
The head feathers of a chickadee. The plumage worked wonders for anything related to the throat. He had to brew many such potions for his fellow teachers. A day of speaking over noisy students tends to weaken the throat.
And Phoenix tears... Even raw, they could heal anything. Their feathers and claw clippings had their uses as well... Snape had never gotten his hand on such things.
Snape looked over the page, noticing the striking resemblance. The long flowing tail, a shimmering gold beak, but the eyes were wrong. Snape hummed, knowing a detail like eye color could translate from human and Animagus form. McGonagall herself bore spectacle-like patterns on her feline form.
Snape wouldn't know for sure unless he sat the boy down and examined him. What an awkward idea... Snape snapped the book shut, but paused. He looked at its empty spot, considering the idea.
Thanks to his status as a Deatheater, Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes hated him. The rare bird even bit at him before. Despite Dumbledore encouraging Snape to pet the beast. 'So warm,' The man had promised. A sign of trust that didn't exactly work. Not when Fawkes wanted to taste his blood. He gambled his hand would have felt warm in that beast's stomach... Vile thing.
With a tapping on the book cover, Snape considered how beneficial Harry's Animagus form could be if it were, in fact, that of a phoenix. Forget the boy being able to heal his friends or even carry them off for a bit of fun... Snape could make robust healing elixirs with the boy's tears... Heating potions from feathers... Even empower his cauldron's fire with a few nail clippings.
Out of everything, the tears were the most tempting. Deep and perfect healing within moments. Snape could force the boy to sob... Snape grimaced at the idea. The child was annoying and seemed just as egotistical as his father... But Harry was still Liliy's son.
...
Harry was always brought to tears at the mere mention of his parents.
Nothing was stopping Snape from telling the boy a story, or too. Other than his own pride. Perhaps he'd share non-personal stories of the couple... just enough to make the boy sniffle.
It wouldn't be hard, nor inherently wrong. Sure, Snape would be using the boy, but everyone knew how curious the boy was about his parents. After all, his mother and father both died and performed such powerful sacrificial magic even the dark lord himself was utterly vaporized from existence. They were far from the parents you didn't want to talk about.
They were the saviors of the wizarding world.
Snape glanced down at his arm, once marked with a Deatheater sigile. He could still recall how it burned when the dark lord was ripped from the mortal world and the next simultaneously. He also heard that the vile man's Horcruxes shook and turned red-hot.
... Snape wouldn't mind telling the boy about his parents, not for such a valuable reward.
Snape stiffly put the book back where it belonged. It was settled then. If Harry were a Phoenix, Snape would offer him tales of his parents in exchange for tears or other worthwhile materials.
_-____=+=____-_
"Potter," Snape droned as he poured the last of today's potion into a vial. Snape turned his gaze toward the classroom door. He quickly caught sight of the young man.
The boy flinched, pausing inside the flow of students. Classmates parted around the boy, flowing outside the classroom. A few gave him pitying looks, and others snickered as they passed. Harry slowly turned, a tight but polite expression on his face.
"Yes, professor?" The boy's voice trembled.
Snape tapped the last drops into the bottle, leaning back with a sigh. "No need to shake, Potter," He focused back on the vial as he capped it. He was comfortable turning his back to the boy as he went to set the vial in its proper place. "You aren't getting a scolding." Snape finished as he pushed the glass onto the shelf.
"I- I'm not?" Harry stammered in supprise.
Snape turned to the boy, raising a brow. "Is there something I should be scolding you for?" He asked through a scowl.
""No," Harry narrowed his eyes, glancing at the door as it closed. As it clicked shut, the boy looked at Snape again. "It's just, you never hold me back unless It's a scolding... Like... Never." The young man spoke, walking back to his seat.
Snape hummed, agreeing as he thought back to past encounters. "I suppose you are wise to suspect such a thing, but no, not today." Snape left the potion shelf, moving to his books. Plucking free the book from earlier, he moved to the front of the class. He set it atop his potion bench, flipping to the page for a phoenix.
The sound of a chair being pulled out was stopped as Snape waved his hand over his shoulder, silently beckoning the boy closer. He stood back, turning as Harry's hesitant footsteps drew close. He stood with his left to the bench, his front to the space in front of the bench.
Harry quickly filled the spot. The young man set his studies aside on the potion bench, hands instantly moving to his chest in a nervous fiddling. Harry stood tall, craneing his neck as he set curious eyes on the book.
"Look familiar?" Snape drawled.
Harry blinked, turning to Snape and sinking back to his heels. "Yes, professor." The young man politely nodded, short hair bobbing. It seemed curiosity put the boy on his best behavior... Noted.
Snape hummed, leaning his weight onto the potion bench with an arm and his hip. "I suspect this is what you turned into, your Animagus." Snape turned to the page again, scanning the detailed drawing.
The image of a phoenix took an entire page on its own. It was drawn in flight, wings wide open and talons bared for a fight.
Harry dared to take a step closer, brushing against the potion bench. He kept his hands to himself, but leaned over the surface to read the miniature writing on the page.
Snape allowed the boy a moment to read. He waited, watching the boy scan the page over. Harry seemed to whisper as he read. Green eyes soaked in every detail. Snape was sure he could have the boy recite the page if he wished. But that's not what Snape held the boy back for.
"Unless you have already confirmed the species... I can do so for you." Snape droned.
Instantly, Harry's eyes hardened, brow falling from curiosity to suspicion. The boy turned to him, gaze untrusting. "You never do things for free," Harry spoke crudely.
But he was right.
Snape nodded. "I simply know my worth." He took in a long breath, looking back to the page. "I'm sure you can put together what I want. You are frustratingly clever, after all."
Harry's eyes stayed accusatory. The boy's gaze darted between the page and Snape, slowly decoding the man's intent. "You want to harvest me for parts..."
Snape hummed, tilting his head. "Close, but not quite." He slipped his wand from his cloak, tapping the wooden item below the book's words. "Phoenix tears are by far what I'm most interested in,"
From the corner of his eye, Snape saw the boy flinch. Harry's gaze flicked to the door.
"But no worries, I have no intent on tormenting you," Snape assured, Setting his wand down on the book's perch.
Immediately, Harry's eyes widened at the abandoned wand. Snape merely slid his hands into his pockets, turning fully to the young man. He pulled out his pockets with a raised brow, showing he hid no weapons.
"I assume disarming myself shows some level of truth?" He drawled.
Harry noticeably relaxed, offering a stiff nod. "It does..." The boy's brow furrowed again. "But how would you get tears from me without tormenting me?"
To that, Snape smiled. For a moment, Harry looked fearful, no doubt expecting something horrible.
"I'm sure you know I attended Hogwarts the same years as your parents." Snape chuffed.
Instantly, and as expected, Harry's eyes lit up. 'Yeah?" The boy prompted in a hopeful tone.
"I'm aware you can get rather wet-eyed from hearing tales about for parents, even if such tales are of good times." Snape hummed. He took a moment to tuck his pockets back into his pants. He sighed as he continued. "I'm sure I can think of a tale or two you haven't heard before, and that might make you a bit weepy."
Harry nodded quickly, hair flicking with the movement. "I can agree to that," The boy fought a smile, stiffly standing in an attempt at composure.
"Good," Snape nodded once, patting the Potion bench with a hand. "Change and hop here. Our deal will mean nothing if my guess is wrong."