“What about the mandrake leaves? When did you add them?” Sirius asked.

“Exactly when I should have.” Harry replied with a sigh. He sat on the grass of the Grimmauld Place garden. “Snape is the potions master, not me. How am I supposed to know if I made a mistake?”

“Then have him check again.” Sirius recommended.

“He did check, over a dozen times now. Believe me, Uncle Sirius, Professor Snape cares as much for my safety as you do. This will be fine, just tell me when to drink the potions.” Harry said.

Sirius looked miffed. “Just making sure.” He muttered. “You can drink it whenever you like. Normally you would have to envision the creature you are transforming into, but that issue is solved with your dragon’s fang.”

Harry looked at the potion. “Really?” He asked.

“I’m ready when you are.”

He would be lying to say he wasn’t excited. But suffice it to say, the transformation was like nothing he imagined.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

His insides turned to fire. The pain was intense, like a mountain of burning stones crashing down on him at once. His bones compressed and morphed, and reptilian scales began forming on his body. He felt as if his skin was being ripped, torn to pieces before being remade. His flesh expanded, and he felt as if his body had been blown up like a balloon. His senses sharpened, and everything suddenly felt smaller.

Harry’s head cleared. Everything seemed so different. Trees that had seemed so large before now looked like toothpicks. He towered over the roof of Grimmauld Place, and the mansion seemed like a toy at the store. His wings were massive, several times his already large body size. As he flexed them a gale rose, and trees parted for his leathery black wings.

It wasn’t part of the plan, but as he rose to his full height Harry let out an earth shaking roar. It was a majestic sound, like a thousand tigers crying out like once. It was deep, rumbling, and for anyone else, terrifying.

Harry felt more alive than he ever had. His eyes saw more than they ever did. He could pick out the tiny details of leaves from miles away. He could see the ruffled feathers on the back of any bird that flew past. Be it a rat’s step on the forest floor or the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, he could hear them clearly. The smells, too! It was as if he were in a kitchen with a hundred dishes being cooked at once, so many exotic and new things he had never smelled before were now there.

More than anything he felt strong and powerful. His muscles tensed with every step he made. His stamina seemed endless, as if he could run, or fly, a thousand miles and never be tired. His scales were hardened, so strong he could not imagine ever being hurt. As he took off, he roared once more. A jet of flame followed, hot and scorching.

“Harry!” He heard Sirius call from far below. It was a mere whisper to his roar, but he could tell from the strain that he was shouting at the top of his lungs.

Harry lowered his head. He was so much larger than Sirius, his mouth large enough to fit elephants inside. He opened his mouth to speak, but what came out was another roar. He heard Sirius chuckle. “Don’t worry Harry. Speaking is an issue for everyone. I’m not even sure it’s possible for dragons. Let’s test your abilities, shall we? Fly!”

Harry spread his wings, feeling a sense of elation as he took off, leaving the world behind for the freedom of the skies above.