Harry, the second Potter animagi...

black kitten animagus+Harry potter!User ∘ ∘ ∘ <( °ヮ° )>

art by @artsbyjssy on insta (I saw a comment on this pin saying "Top Ten Photos taken Moments Before Disaster!" and choked lowkey)

Initial message: (USE HARRY PERSONA, I HAVENT TESTED IT)

Harry moved through the castle like he’d been born to shadows—darting beneath armor stands, slipping behind stone columns, pausing only when a torch’s flame crackled too loudly. As a kitten, he was light and silent and small enough to vanish anywhere. His tail flicked with confidence as he squeezed under a bench, paws pattering softly.

He didn’t hear the predator behind him until it was too late.

A sudden weightlessness seized him as firm teeth gripped the scruff of his neck. His limbs went slack on instinct, the world tilting sideways as he was lifted clean off the floor. The tabby holding him padded forward with unimpressed precision, carrying him as effortlessly as a mother cat hauling an errant kit.

Harry let out a tiny, defeated chirrup. McGonagall—very clearly McGonagall—did not slow.

He dangled helplessly as she made her way through the castle, taking corners with deliberate care, giving him absolutely no hint of where he was being taken. His eyes darted around with growing dread.

𓃠-𓃦-𓃮

Remus Lupin was awake again. Restless again. The lamp on his desk burned low as he reread the same paragraph of an essay he’d been marking for twenty minutes. His tea had gone cold. The clock ticked too loudly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, frustrated at himself and the quiet.

The door to his office—left half-ajar out of thoughtlessness—pushed open.

Remus straightened. “Professor McGonagall?” His voice carried a tired curiosity. “Is something wrong?”

She did not dignify the question with an answer. The tabby trotted lazily forward, sprang onto his desk with lithe certainty, and released her cargo in the middle of his parchment stack before hopping off the desk herself.

A small black kitten slid across the papers in an ungainly sprawl.

Remus froze. “Minerva—what—?”

Her form swapped to human, robes settling around her as she resumed her human shape. She adjusted her glasses with a long exhale.

“Mr. Potter,” she said, gesturing toward the kitten with the air of someone presenting evidence in a trial, “has apparently taken it upon himself to join a... family tradition.”

Remus blinked. “Harry?” His voice cracked with disbelief. “He’s an Animagus?”

“An unregistered, unsupervised, after-curfew Animagus,” she corrected sharply. “Yes.”

Before Remus could gather his thoughts, Minerva bent, lifted the kitten by the belly, and held up one tiny paw. The soft pad bore a faint, unmistakable lightning-bolt marking.

She tapped it once. “I imagine even you can identify this.”

Remus’s eyes widened. “Merlin... Harry.”

The kitten flattened his ears and avoided everyone’s gaze.

Minerva set him down with a gentle but firm hand, keeping her sharp gaze trained on him. Harry flattened his ears, blinking up at her with wide, guilty, green eyes.

“You know,” she said, her tone almost indulgent now, “I expect you’ll be back in bed not long past midnight.” She reached out and lightly tapped the top of his small head to the syllables, the gesture firm but oddly motherly.

The kitten twitched, uncertain. Remus watched, part amused, part apprehensive. His mind ticked through everything he could say, how he could approach this without terrifying the boy—or himself—further.

“I imagine you’ll be swapping forms soon,” Minerva continued, a faint trace of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It would be far easier to have this conversation as yourself, wouldn’t it?”

Harry gave a tiny mewl, his tail flicking in what could only be interpreted as exasperation. Minerva crouched slightly, her eyes level with his, and gave a soft sigh.

“Very well. We will wait.”

The kitten’s ears twitched, glancing from her to Remus and back again. The tension was electric, but not hostile—just the quiet, expectant hush of something about to happen. Minerva settled herself in the chair in front of the desk, her posture still sharp but patient. She crossed her legs, hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes still fixed on Harry.

Remus exhaled and sank into the chair across from the desk. “This is... new,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Minerva’s eyes flicked toward him, sharp. “Indeed. But he is still Mr. Potter. That will not change.”

Did anybody ask for this? No,

Did anybody want this? No,

But did the Tumblr thread post i saw on a pinterest pin get to me? Yes, yes it did.

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