The Anti-Heroine || A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter XXX

Chapter XXX:

Hermione's POV:

Hermione watched with no small amount of pride as Harry's form started shrinking, reshaping before her eyes.

Harry had spent the holidays practicing his Animagus transformation with a stubborn determination that she knew had impressed even Tom, and she was so proud of his achievement.

Hermione knew that she was a genius– she wasn't being conceited when she said that, it was just a fact. Tom, too, was a genius. Understanding magic came so much easier to them. Logic too, which made it easier to shut off their emotions and operate on facts alone. Harry wasn't like them, in that way– he wasn't a genius. But he was clever and out of her and Harry, Harry had far more raw power. The sheer strength and quantity of it was undeniable to anyone who had even the slightest talent in sensing the magic in others and Tom was the same. Hermione didn't have that same power, but what she did have was a clever mind and an excellent instinctual grasp on her own magic– there was no point in having masses of magic if you didn't know how to control it and get the best use out of it, after all.

And Harry was learning that control– his first complete animagus transformation was undeniable, ironclad proof of that.

Harry's animagus form was that of a coyote, and she thought he looked a bit like a small, sort of scrawny German Shepard, with his dark grey fur, large, adorable furry ears and bushy tail with a black tip. She wanted to pull him into her arms and cuddle him and the little coyote looked so stunned she thought she might just get away with it.

When it came to symbolism, the coyote was a strikingly paradoxical creature and difficult to categorize– they were adaptable, playful and jokesters, traditionally known as way-makers; they represented the truth behind illusion and chaos.

But perhaps one of the most interesting and striking characteristics of the coyote was the fact that they mated for life.

The small coyote cautiously set one small paw forwards and then another, stepping cautiously as if he was expecting something drastic to happen. She watched, amused, as Harry quickly gained his confidence, trotting around the room and sniffing everywhere. His little paws made pattering noises against the polished floorboards and his little nose was all over the place as his big, pointed ears twitched and swiveled.

"Harry," she spoke up finally and the coyote looked over to her with bright green eyes. She lowered herself to the ground and patted her lap in invitation. Harry happily bounded over and practically dived onto her, causing her to laugh as she was knocked backwards. A cold nose pressed against her neck and she squirmed, giggling in a most undignified manner. "Harry!" She tried scolding him but she was laughing too much for either of them to take her seriously and Harry licked her chin.

"Down, pup!" She scolded, gently pushing the small coyote off her and sitting back up off the floor. Harry was preening, licking his grey fur with short, quick strokes of his tongue, and she gently stroked his large ears which caused him to make a happy, rumbling sound.

"Is that Harry?" She heard Tom ask and she turned around to smile at the impressed older boy walking through the doorway. She took a moment to appreciate how handsome Tom looked with his slender body draped in black robes with a thin silver chainlet adorning his waist, the loose ends swaying around his hips with every step he took giving his gait a certain sense of sensuality.

"Isn't he just adorable?" She said and the coyote made a disgruntled sound, puffing out his chest and showing her his teeth. Hermione tickled his chin. "Still adorable." She cooed and the little shoulders slumped dejectedly.