Turning Time (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

The Stronger One, pt. 1

Harry woke first. His vision was normal—somehow, he must’ve absorbed his glasses—and, as far as he could tell, he could think clearly. Except, he realized as he stood, my thoughts seem to be moving more slowly. 

Remus regarded him, confused. Looking over, Harry realized why; James was also a stag. Sirius lay across from him, his black fur reminiscent of his wavy hair. Peter, now a small, furry lump, rested near Raven, who was as large as Sirius. As the others got to their paws, or hooves, she padded to an old mirror they’d polished up beforehand. Her brown eyes, the feature she’d retained, seemed to widen. She was a wolf. 

James caught sight of Harry and approached him, head cocked. Then his attention shifted to Peter, who scurried to the corner.

With an upward yank of his antlered head, James turned back into his teenage self. The others followed suit, though they required more effort. 

Everyone looked between James and Harry, anticipating their thoughts on having the same Animagus.

James switched from thoughtful to nonchalant in a suspicious instant. “Well, I have to say, I’m surprised. We have two stags, a dog, a wolf, and a werewolf—and then a rat. Or a mouse? No, wow, definitely a rat.” James grinned, then chuckled, then bent over with laughter. “I’m sorry, mate. A rat? We’re gonna lose you, you’re so small. Ah, but chin up, Peter. You’ll be bloody useful. Think of all the places you can get into now!” 

Peter momentarily had a look of resentment, but got over it and cracked a smile.

Remus glowed with happiness. “We did it! It took forever, but we managed.”

“’Course we did. Oi, Jacob, what time is it?”

Harry checked his watch. “Nearly eight.”

“I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat. Peter, craving cheese?” 

Harry found out Raven was thrilled with her Animagus. “I expected something smaller. A bird, maybe, but a wolf? Wow. Too bad Sirius’ is so like mine. Yours, though. A stag, like James. I suppose that makes sense, you are sorta like James—”

“Like James? How?” 

Raven hesitated, realizing she had to tread lightly. She leaned back on the couch. “Well, it’s definitely not the bullying part. But you both like Quidditch. And if you have a goal, you become obsessed with it. Oh, and if you think someone’s wrong, you aren’t afraid to set them right. It’s not a bad thing, necessarily, don’t look at me like that.” 

“Sorry. It’s just that, my dad—”

“I thought we were talking about James?”

“Ah—yeah, anyway, maybe you’re right.” Like father, like son.

“And also, though, maybe this isn’t the right time to say it, but both of you are prejudiced against Slytherins.” 

“I’m not prejudiced.” Where was this coming from? He could name three Slytherins who were capable of good: Slughorn, Regulus, and Severus. Narcissa Malfoy, even.

“Are you sure you’re not? Because, I don’t know, first you convince Severus to be in Gryffindor…” That was to keep an eye on him and have him closer to Lily, not because of a prejudice. “…then your opinion about the houses, and just yesterday you laughed when James blamed the amount of homework on the Slytherins!”

“Oh, c’mon, that was a joke. You can’t base prejudice on a joke. And the other things…” Harry wished he could explain to Raven that he had years of reasoning. Years of hearing about and seeing people die at the hands of people who, for the vast majority of the time, had been Slytherins.