A Nundu for A Pet

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Chapter 25 (First Year Ends), Chapter 26 (Magic & Politics), Chapter 27 (Letters, Contracts, and Other Complications), Chapter 28 (When Loves Makes Home), Chapter 29 (A Nundu in France), Chapter 30 (The Minister's Request), Chapter 31 (Abyssantica), Chapter 32 (The Half-Human Princess), Chapter 33 (Echoes from the Deep), Chapter 34 (Crystal's Song of Ice), Chapter 35 (Song of Ice and Water), and Chapter 36 (The Wardstone's Song) are already available for Patrons.

Harry was pushing his eggs around his plate, his breakfast hardly touched, when the great wooden doors of the Main Hall creaked open. Beside him, Itisa let out an uncharacteristically cheerful meow that made him look up.

Sebastian was walking in with Anna, but this wasn't the weak, shuffling walk they'd grown used to seeing. Anna was moving with almost her old energy, her face bright and animated as she chatted with her brother.

The reaction at the Slytherin table was immediate. Several heads turned, and the usual mask of indifference slipped from more than a few faces.

"Anna!" Tracy Davis was the first to break protocol, jumping up to hug her. "You're actually walking!"

"And not just walking," Anna grinned, doing a little twirl that would have been impossible just yesterday. "I feel amazing!"

Pansy Parkinson's jaw actually dropped. "How in Merlin's name...?"

Even Daphne Greengrass was staring, her usual ice-queen demeanor cracking as she watched Anna slide onto the bench without assistance. Her eyes darted between Anna, Harry, and Itisa with an intensity that made Harry slightly uncomfortable.

"Did St. Mungo's finally figure it out?" Millicent Bulstrode asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Anna shook her head, beaming. "It was Harry and Itisa!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Every head within earshot turned to stare at Harry, who suddenly found his eggs fascinating again. Itisa, completely unbothered by the attention, began grooming her paw with regal indifference.

"Potter?" Pansy's voice was caught between skepticism and curiosity. "How did you—"

"I believe," Lendyell's prefect voice cut through the growing murmurs, "that Mr. Potter's medical achievements are his own business. Unless you'd all like to share your family's healing secrets over breakfast?"

The hint of steel in his voice had its intended effect. Most students returned to their meals, though Harry could still feel their sideways glances.

"But seriously," Pansy whispered, leaning closer once Lendyell had turned away, "what kind of creature is she? I've never seen a cat with healing abilities."

"She's just special," Harry said with a shrug, scratching behind Itisa's ears. Through their bond, he felt her amusement at his deliberate understatement.

"Special?" Blaise Zabini scoffed. "Potter, normal cats don't heal dark magic. What is she really?"

"If you must know," Harry said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, "she's actually a pygmy puff in disguise. Very rare condition. Tragic, really."

Sebastian nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, while Anna giggled behind her hand.

"You're impossible," Pansy huffed, but there was less venom in her voice than usual.

"I try," Harry grinned, then turned to Anna. "How are you feeling, really?"

"Like I could fly without a broom," Anna beamed. "The darkness is still there, but it's... quieter? Like it's been muffled somehow."

"The dark veins are almost gone," Sebastian added, his voice carefully neutral, though Harry could hear the underlying tension. "Madam Pomfrey says she's never seen anything like it."

"Fascinating," Daphne spoke for the first time, her voice soft but carrying. "And you say it was your cat, Potter?"

There was something in her tone that made Harry look up. She was watching him with those sharp blue eyes of hers, and for a moment, he wondered if she'd somehow figured it out. She'd always been too clever by half.

"Itisa has many talents," Harry said carefully. "Most of them involve stealing my breakfast sausages."

As if on cue, Itisa snatched a sausage from his plate, causing several people to laugh. The tension broke, but Daphne's gaze didn't waver.

"I didn't know you were interested in healing magic, Greengrass," Harry said, turning the tables.

"I'm interested in many things, Potter," she replied coolly. "Particularly things that shouldn't be possible."

"Nothing's impossible," Anna chimed in cheerfully. "That's what Mister Scamander always says in his books. Right, Harry?"

"Speaking of impossible things," Blaise cut in, "is it true you're going with Scamander this summer? Adrian swears he heard McGonagall talking about it."

"Oh yes," Harry drawled, "we're going on a grand adventure to discover if garden gnomes can tap dance. Very serious research."

"You're awful," Pansy declared, but she was fighting a smile.

"Yet here you are, talking to me," Harry pointed out. "I must be growing on you, Parkinson. Like a fungus."

"More like a disease," she retorted, but there was no real malice in it.

Through all this, Harry noticed Sebastian watching him with an unreadable expression. When their eyes met, Sebastian gave him a slight nod – part gratitude, part something else Harry couldn't quite identify.

"Will you be joining us in Herbology today?" Tracy asked Anna hopefully.

"Professor Garlick already gave me permission," Anna nodded. "Though she said I have to take it easy with the more aggressive plants."

"As if anyone's going to let you near the Venomous Tentacula anyway," Sebastian said firmly.

"I don't know," Harry mused. "Might be an improvement over your last attempt at pruning it. At least Anna wouldn't try to reason with it first."

"That was one time!" Sebastian protested. "And I maintain that plant understood exactly what I was saying. It just chose violence anyway."

"Yes, because that's so much better," Daphne commented dryly.

The conversation drifted into safer waters, but Harry remained aware of the undercurrents. Daphne's calculating looks, Sebastian's quiet watchfulness, and the way other students kept glancing at Itisa with new interest.

Through their bond, he felt Itisa's mild concern. She understood that they were walking a fine line – helping Anna while keeping their secret safe. One wrong move, one slip of the tongue, and things could get very complicated very quickly.

"You know," Daphne said quietly as the others became engaged in a debate about the ethics of reasoning with violent plants, "there's an interesting chapter in 'Magical Mysteries of the Mediterranean' about healing creatures. Perhaps we could discuss it sometime, Potter?"

Her tone was casual, but her eyes were anything but. Harry met her gaze steadily.

"Always happy to chat about books, Greengrass," he replied with equal casualness. "Though I find some mysteries are better left mysterious."

She smiled slightly. "We'll see about that."

As the breakfast hour drew to a close, Harry watched Anna laughing with her friends, looking more alive than she had in months. Worth it, he thought, even with the risks. Through their bond, Itisa sent warm agreement, though tinged with caution.

They'd have to be careful, but for now, seeing Anna's smile and Sebastian's relief was enough. The rest they'd deal with as it came.

"Come on," Harry said, standing up. "We've got Herbology, and I, for one, can't wait to see if Sebastian tries to negotiate with any more homicidal plants."

"That was ONE TIME!"

⚯ ͛

In Herbology, Professor Miradel Garlick commanded attention not just with her striking appearance - her long red hair neatly braided and her emerald robes perfectly pressed - but with her passionate expertise. The Slytherins and Ravenclaws were working with Whispering Willowblooms, and Harry found himself paired with Daphne Greengrass. Professor Garlick kept a careful eye on Anna, who was eagerly back at work despite her brother's hovering. When Harry's Willowbloom produced particularly melodious notes under his care, Professor Garlick awarded Slytherin five points. Harry noticed Daphne watching him with renewed interest during this exchange, though she quickly looked away when he caught her eye. The lesson was productive, despite Theo Nott's plant throwing what could only be described as a musical tantrum.

History of Magic was its usual test of endurance, with Professor Binns monotonously reciting dates from the Goblin Rebellions. The Slytherins had developed a system - they rotated note-taking duty, with today's responsibility falling to Tracy Davis, while the others could doze or study quietly. Harry used the time to review his Defense Against the Dark Arts texts, occasionally glancing at Itisa, who had claimed her favorite sunny windowsill. The lesson's only disruption came when Goyle's snoring grew loud enough to make Pansy Parkinson hex him awake, earning amused smirks from their housemates while Binns continued his lecture, completely oblivious to the exchange.

⚯ ͛

Harry sat against an old oak tree near the Black Lake, his favorite quiet spot where few students ventured. Tonks lounged beside him, her hair cycling through various shades of purple as she practiced her metamorphmagus abilities.

"So," Tonks drawled, her hair settling on a deep violet, "heard you're playing healer now. With a certain dangerous kitty's help."

Harry absently scratched Itisa behind the ears as she dozed in his lap. "News travels fast."

"Especially when it involves a mysteriously cured pure-blood witch." Tonks grinned mischievously. "First Greengrass gives you those long looks, now Anna Sallow. Quite the collection of admirers you're building, Potter."

Harry felt his cheeks warm but kept his voice steady. "No need to be jealous, Tonks. You know you'll always be my first girlfriend."

"Oh?" Tonks's eyebrows shot up as her hair turned a vibrant pink. "And when exactly did we start dating? Must have missed that memo."

"Well, you are an older woman. I understand if your memory isn't what it used to be."

Tonks snorted, morphing her face to look ancient. "Respect your elders, young man."

"I would, but I can't find any respectable ones," Harry shot back with a grin.

"Cheeky little snake," Tonks laughed, returning to her normal appearance. "But seriously, Harry..." Her expression sobered. "Helping Anna was kind, but it's going to draw attention. The wrong kind of attention."

Harry's smile faded. "Because of what happened with Quirrell?"

"That, and..." Tonks hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "A lot of pure-blood families, especially those who were... sympathetic to You-Know-Who's cause, they tend to have members afflicted with strange illnesses. Dark magic leaves traces, and sometimes those traces get passed down."

Harry felt Itisa stir in his lap, sensing his unease. "Are you saying Sebastian and Anna's family supported Voldemort?"

Tonks winced at the name but continued, "The Sallows... it's complicated. Their parents died two years after You-Know-Who's fall. Nobody knows exactly what happened to them. Just... disappeared one day."

"That's convenient," Harry muttered, his mind racing. "Does Sebastian know?"

"I don't know what he knows Harry." Tonks picked at the grass beside her. "They were raised by their grandmother until she passed last year. Now it's just the two of them, with their uncle as legal guardian. He's some Ministry official in the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"And Anna's illness?"

"Started showing up about four years ago." Tonks's hair had shifted to a somber blue. "That's why Sebastian's so protective of her. She's all he's got left."

Harry thought about Sebastian's desperation to find a cure, the way he'd looked at Harry that morning – grateful but with something else in his eyes. "He'd do anything to save her, wouldn't he?"

"Wouldn't you? For someone you loved?"

Harry absently stroked Itisa's fur, remembering how she'd fought Voldemort to protect him. "Yeah, I would."

"Just... be careful, Harry." Tonks's voice was unusually serious. "People are going to start asking questions about how you managed to help Anna when St. Mungo's best healers couldn't. And some of those people might not take 'none of your business' for an answer."

"Like Daphne Greengrass?"

"Among others." Tonks smirked. "Though I think she's more interested in you than your healing methods."

"She is not," Harry protested, feeling his face heat up again.

"Oh? Is that why she keeps staring at you in the Great Hall? For academic purposes?"

"She's probably plotting my murder. It's a Slytherin hobby."

"Ah yes, murder plots. The foundation of all great romances."

"Speaking from experience?" Harry countered. "How many murder plots did it take before Charlie Weasley noticed you?"

Tonks's hair shifted from its usual bubblegum pink to a frustrated dark blue. "For the last time, I don't fancy Charlie Weasley!"

"But he fancies you," Harry said with a knowing smirk. "Everyone can see it."

"I know he does," Tonks sighed, her hair dulling to a muted gray. "But I don't feel the same way. He's nice and all, but..."

"But?" Harry prompted, genuinely curious now.

"But he's just a friend. It's actually kind of awkward sometimes," Tonks admitted, slumping against the tree. "I wish he'd just... move on, you know?"

Harry tilted his head, studying his friend's unusually serious expression. "So who do you fancy then?"

Tonks's hair cycled through several colors rapidly before settling on a defensive purple. "None of your business, you nosy little snake."

"Come on," Harry wheedled. "I won't tell anyone. Itisa can be our witness to secrecy."

Itisa made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

"Not happening, Potter," Tonks said firmly, though her hair betrayed her by turning slightly pink at the tips. "And if you keep pushing, I'll tell everyone about that time you accidentally turned your eyebrows gold trying to match Itisa's eyes."

"That's fighting dirty," Harry protested. "I like it. You sure you're not meant to be in Slytherin?"

"Shut it, you," Tonks laughed, her hair returning to its usual bright pink. "Now come on, I promised to help you practice those shield charms."

"Fine, keep your secrets," Harry grinned. "But I'll figure it out eventually."

"In your dreams, Potter. In your dreams." She launched a hex towards him, but he quickly used a shield charm.

"When did you get so good at Shield Charms?" Tonks demanded.

"Around the time I realized I was friends with a trigger-happy metamorphmagus."

"Survival instinct, then?"

"More like self-preservation. Though..." Harry's voice turned serious. "After Quirrell, I've been practicing more defensive spells."

Tonks's playful demeanor vanished. "Harry... what really happened that day? The official story is that Quirrell had some sort of magical accident, but..."

"But nobody believes that," Harry finished. He glanced around, making sure they were truly alone. "He had Voldemort stuck to the back of his head. Like some kind of parasite."

"Merlin's balls," Tonks whispered, her hair turning white with shock. "You actually fought You-Know-Who?"

"More like survived him. If it wasn't for Itisa..." He scratched the Nundu's ears gratefully. "She bit him. Poisoned his magic somehow. But he still got away, sort of... flew off like black smoke."

"That's why Dumbledore's been watching you so closely." Tonks's expression was troubled. "And why Moody visited my parents, asking questions about your cat."

Harry tensed. "What kind of questions?"

"Nothing specific. Just... interested. You know how he is. Suspicious of everything."

"Great. Just what we need – Mad-Eye Moody's attention."

"Could be worse," Tonks offered. "Could be Snape's attention."

"Too late for that. He's been glaring at me more than usual lately. Probably upset that a Slytherin's hanging out with a Hufflepuff."

"Nah, that's just his face. Permanent glare charm gone wrong, I reckon."

Harry snorted. "That would explain a lot."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the giant squid lazily wave its tentacles above the lake's surface.

"Harry?" Tonks's voice was quiet. "Promise me you'll be careful. Between You-Know-Who, the Sallow situation, and whatever's going on with Greengrass... you're juggling a lot of dangerous secrets."

"I'm always careful."

"Says the boy who decided to keep a N-" She caught herself. "A very special pet."

"She kept me, actually." Harry smiled down at Itisa. "Best decision she ever made, right girl?"

Itisa purred in agreement, rubbing her head against his hand.

"You two are ridiculous," Tonks said fondly. "But seriously, if you need help – with anything – you'll tell me, right?"

"Course I will. Who else is going to teach me how to properly stalk Charlie Weasley?"

"That's it!" Tonks launched herself at him, hair blazing red. "You're dead, Potter!"

Harry scrambled to his feet, laughing as he dodged her attacks. Itisa watched their mock battle with regal amusement, occasionally batting at their robes as they danced around the tree.

Finally, both collapsed back onto the grass, breathless from laughter.

"You know," Tonks said, still panting slightly, "most first years would be terrified after facing You-Know-Who. But here you are, making jokes and helping sick classmates."

"What's the alternative? Hide under my bed?"

"Most people would say that's the sensible thing to do."

"Well," Harry grinned, "when have I ever been sensible?"

"Fair point." Tonks propped herself up on an elbow. "Just... promise me one more thing?"

"Depends. Does it involve staying out of trouble?"

"As if that's possible." She rolled her eyes. "No, just... don't try to handle everything alone. You've got friends – me, Hermione, the Sallows, Susan, Cedric to a degree, Neville. Even Ice Queen Greengrass, though she'd probably rather eat bubotuber pus than admit it."

"Speaking of Greengrass..." Harry hesitated. "She keeps hinting that she knows something. About Itisa."

"Has she said anything directly?"

"No, but she's too smart not to have noticed something's off. Especially after Anna's recovery."

"Want me to have a word with her?" Tonks's hair took on a threatening red tinge.

"And confirm her suspicions? Besides," Harry smirked, "according to you, she's just trying to get my attention."

"Well, there are easier ways," Tonks mused. "She could just pull your pigtails like a normal person."

"I don't have pigtails."

"We could fix that." Tonks's eyes gleamed mischievously.

"Don't you dare."

"Come on, you'd look adorable!"

"I will set Itisa on you."

"No, you won't. She likes me too much."

As if to prove her point, Itisa padded over and bumped her head against Tonks's hand.

"Traitor," Harry muttered.

"Face it, Potter. You're outnumbered."

"Story of my life." But he was smiling as he said it.

The bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of their free period.

"Back to reality," Tonks sighed, standing and brushing grass from her robes. "Try not to cure any more mysterious illnesses before dinner, yeah?"

"No promises. You know me – I live for drama."

"That's what worries me." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "See you later, trouble-maker. Bye, Itisa."

As they watched Tonks head back to the castle, her hair cycling through rainbow colors, Harry couldn't help but feel grateful for her friendship. She might tease him mercilessly, but she was also one of the few people who truly understood the weight of the secrets he carried.

"Come on, girl," he said to Itisa. "We've got Potions next. Try not to eat Snape's ingredients this time."

Itisa's innocent look fooled exactly no one.

⚯ ͛

Harry paced before the blank wall on the seventh floor, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Three times he walked, focusing his thoughts: 'I need a place to practice voice magic... I need to understand more about my abilities...'

The ornate door materialized, but when Harry stepped through, he found himself in an unexpected scene. The room before him was vast and decaying, with cobwebbed chandeliers hanging precariously from a deteriorating ceiling. Faded portraits lined the walls, their occupants long since abandoned their frames. Dusty furniture lay scattered about, covered in moldering sheets.

"This isn't what I asked for," Harry muttered, running his hand along a tarnished silver mirror. Itisa, perched on his shoulder, let out a low growl.

"You're right, girl. Let's try something more familiar." Harry closed his eyes, picturing his room at the Tonks' house - warm, comfortable, safe. The room shimmered and transformed, becoming the cozy space he'd come to call home.

Settling cross-legged on the familiar bed, Harry pulled out his notebook. "Alright, let's think about this logically. Loretta said my voice carries more magical energy than most wizards..."

He began jotting down what he knew: Voice magic was integral to spellcasting. His own voice magic was exceptionally powerful. He could communicate with certain magical creatures, though frustratingly not yet with Itisa.

"But what if..." Harry sat up straighter, an idea forming. "What if I'm thinking about this all wrong? Everyone uses their voice to direct magic outward, through wands. But what if..."

He stood, walking to the center of the room. "Room, I need a glass of water." A small table appeared with a crystal glass.

"Itisa, you might want to cover your ears," Harry warned, though he wasn't sure Nundus could do that. He took a deep breath, focusing on the water in the glass.

Instead of pushing his magic out through his wand, he let it resonate in his throat, building like a musical note. When he spoke, it wasn't a spell or even a word - it was a pure tone, carrying magic in its vibration.

The water in the glass began to tremble, then rise, forming shapes in the air. Harry modulated his tone, watching as the water responded, dancing and swirling to the magical frequency of his voice.

"Brilliant," he whispered, breaking the connection and letting the water splash back into the glass. "It's not about words at all - it's about resonance!"

He quickly wrote in his notebook: 'Voice magic = magical frequency. Different tones = different effects. No wand needed!'

"Let's try something else." Harry cleared his throat and produced a different tone, higher this time, infusing it with a different kind of magical intent. The air around him began to shimmer, and suddenly he could see magical currents flowing through the room like colorful streams of wind.

"Merlin's beard," he breathed, watching the magic swirl around Itisa in particularly dense patterns. "I can see magic itself!"

But that wasn't the most exciting part. As he sustained the tone, he noticed he could feel the magical frequencies around him, like different musical notes. Each object, each spell, each magical creature had its own unique resonance.

"That's it!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes wide with realization. "That's why I can't talk to you yet, Itisa. I've been trying to speak your language, but I should be trying to match your magical frequency!"

He focused on the complex patterns swirling around his companion, attempting to reproduce them with his voice. The first few attempts produced nothing, but on the fourth try, he managed to create a tone that harmonized with Itisa's magical signature.

The Nundu's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised chirp that carried the same magical frequency.

"Did you feel that?" Harry asked excitedly. "We almost had it! We just need to practice matching our frequencies perfectly."

He spent the next hour experimenting, discovering he could use different tones to achieve various effects: one frequency could make objects lighter than air, another could create barriers of pure magic, and yet another could detect hidden enchantments.

"This changes everything," Harry muttered, scribbling frantically in his notebook. "Traditional spells use words to focus magical intent, but with the right frequency..." He paused, considering the implications. "I could theoretically reproduce any spell effect just by matching its magical resonance with my voice."

He looked at Itisa, who was watching him with what seemed like pride.

⚯ ͛

Tomorrow

"Right then, let's be methodical about this," Harry muttered, pulling out his notebook. He'd convinced Daphne to lend him her crystal vials in exchange for future Potions help - a bargain he hoped would pay off. Itisa watched lazily from her perch atop a conjured cushion as he arranged his test materials.

"Water first - that seemed easiest last time." Harry set a vial of water before him. Taking a deep breath, he produced a clear tone, attempting to match the frequency he'd discovered yesterday. The water trembled but didn't rise.

"Hmm, too low maybe?" He adjusted his pitch higher, and this time the water shot straight up, splashing across his face. Itisa made a sound suspiciously like a snicker.

"Yes, very funny," Harry wiped his face with his sleeve. "Let's try that again."

After several more attempts - and several more impromptu showers - Harry finally found the right resonance. The water rose smoothly from the vial, forming a glistening sphere in the air. Maintaining the tone, he tried to shape it into more complex forms. His first attempt at a cube resulted in the water splashing back into the vial.

"This is harder than it looks," he grumbled. "The frequency has to change as the shape changes..."

An hour later, Harry had mastered basic geometric shapes and was working on more complex patterns. He discovered that by adding harmonics to his base tone, he could create multiple effects simultaneously. The water could spin while changing shapes, or split into smaller droplets that danced in formation.

"Brilliant! Now, let's try something more challenging." Harry placed a silver Sickle on the table. "Metal should be interesting."

His first attempt produced nothing but a slight wobble. His second caused the coin to spin violently off the table, narrowly missing Itisa, who gave him an indignant look.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Harry retrieved the coin. "The resonance is different... stronger."

He spent the next forty-five minutes trying different tones until he found one that made the Sickle vibrate harmoniously. When he added a second, lower frequency, the silver began to soften.

"Fascinating," he whispered, watching the coin become malleable like clay. However, when he tried to shape it, his concentration slipped, and the metal instantly rehardened in a rather unfortunate twisted shape.

"Well, that's one Sickle I won't be spending," he sighed, setting it aside. "Let's try wood."

Harry pulled out a spare wand handle he'd gotten from Ollivander's shop. This proved even more challenging - the wood seemed resistant to most frequencies he tried. After twenty frustrating minutes, he finally produced a tone that made the grain patterns glow faintly.

"There's still magic in it," he realized. "But it's dormant..."

Experimenting with different harmonics, Harry found he could make the latent magical properties more apparent. The wood's natural affinity for certain types of spells became visible as colored patterns within the grain.

"This could be incredibly useful for wandmaking," he mused, making notes. "Though I doubt Ollivander would appreciate me revealing his trade secrets."

Glass was next, and Harry was particularly excited about this after his success with the crystallization effect earlier. He set up several of Daphne's vials and began testing frequencies.

The first attempt shattered two vials, making him grateful for the Room of Requirement's soundproofing. The second caused them to melt into puddles. The third did nothing at all.

"Come on," Harry muttered. "There's a sweet spot here somewhere..."

Finally, he found a tone that made the glass resonate without breaking. Adding a second harmonic caused crystalline patterns to form across the surface. A third made the glass flexible like rubber.

"Now that's proper magic," he grinned, bending a vial into a pretzel shape before releasing the frequency. The glass snapped back to its original form, perfectly intact.

Stone proved to be the most difficult material yet. Harry had conjured several different types to test with, but even his strongest resonances barely affected them.

"Maybe I'm thinking about this wrong," he mused after another failed attempt. "It's not about force..."

He closed his eyes, feeling for the natural frequency of the stones themselves. The tone he produced this time was so deep he felt it more than heard it. Slowly, a granite block began to soften like butter.

"Brilliant! Though I'm not sure when I'd need to melt stone..." He made more notes. "Moving on to air - this should be interesting."

Air manipulation proved both easier and harder than expected. Creating visible patterns was simple enough, but controlling them was another matter entirely. His first attempt at condensing air resulted in a minor windstorm that scattered his notes across the room.

"Right, more finesse needed," Harry muttered, gathering his papers. He tried again, this time with a gentler resonance. The air currents became visible as shimmering streams, and he found he could direct them with subtle changes in his tone.

"Now, let's try combining effects..." Harry produced multiple tones simultaneously, attempting to manipulate different materials at once. The result was chaos - water spraying everywhere, glass vibrating dangerously, and air currents throwing everything into disarray.

"Definitely need more practice with that," he said, cleaning up the mess with a quick spell. "But the potential..."

Harry turned his attention to magical objects next. He'd brought several small enchanted items from his trunk to experiment with. A self-inking quill, a remembrall, and a puzzle box that changed its solution every time you opened it.

Finding the magical frequencies in these objects was easier than with raw materials, but interpreting them proved challenging. Each enchantment had its own complex harmonic pattern.

"It's like trying to listen to three different songs at once," Harry complained after his fifth attempt to unravel the puzzle box's enchantment gave him a headache. "There are too many layers."

But persistence paid off. After another hour of practice, he could identify distinct magical signatures and even temporarily enhance or dampen them. The self-inking quill's enchantment glowed brighter under certain frequencies, while others made it act like a normal quill.

"This is brilliant," Harry said, reviewing his notes. "But also a bit terrifying. I mean, the applications are endless. Imagine being able to enhance or dampen any enchantment just by finding its frequency. Or being able to manipulate materials without spells. Or communicating with magical creatures directly through their own magical language..."

He looked at his watch and was shocked to see how much time had passed. "We should probably head back. But first..."

Harry stood in the center of the room and attempted to combine several effects he'd mastered individually. This time, he managed to create a controlled display - water droplets dancing through magically visible air currents, while crystal patterns formed in the air around them, all contained within a sphere of condensed magic.

"Now that's more like it," he grinned, releasing the magic. "Though I suspect Hermione would remind me that showing off isn't the point of practicing."

As they left the Room of Requirement, Harry's mind was already racing with new ideas to try next time. He had a feeling he'd barely scratched the surface of what voice magic could do, and he couldn't wait to explore further.

"Don't suppose you'd be willing to help me practice more tomorrow?" he asked Itisa. The Nundu's responding chirp carried a frequency that Harry was beginning to recognize as affirmative, though he noticed it also contained harmonics he couldn't quite interpret yet.

"One step at a time," he reminded himself. "Rome wasn't built in a day, and magical communication apparently isn't mastered in one either."

Still, as they made their way back to the Slytherin common room, Harry couldn't help but feel satisfied with their progress. He'd failed more times than he'd succeeded today, but each failure had taught him something valuable about how voice magic worked.

And if the way Itisa was proudly walking beside him was any indication, she approved of his efforts to understand her magical language, even if he wasn't quite fluent yet.

⚯ ͛

Harry was making his way back to the Slytherin Common room when he heard him, or well, them.

"Psst! Potter!"

"Over here, young snake!"

Harry turned to find Fred and George Weasley emerging from behind a tapestry, wearing identical mischievous grins.

"Evening, trouble and more trouble," Harry smirked. "How's the family?"

"Oh, positively peachy!" Fred (or possibly George) beamed.

"Mum's still talking about your Christmas card," George (or possibly Fred) added.

"'Such a polite young man,'" they mimicked in unison, clutching their hearts dramatically.

"Ron's still convinced you're plotting something nefarious, though," Fred chuckled.

"Being in Slytherin and all," George explained.

"I barely know him," Harry shrugged.

"Speaking of nefarious plotting..." Fred began.

"We have a proposition!" George finished.

"A Grand Prank, if you will."

"Capital G, capital P."

Harry glanced at Itisa, who very deliberately shook her head.

"I'm listening," Harry grinned, ignoring his familiar's exasperated expression.

"You see, dear Potter..."

"We've developed a rather ingenious charm..."

"Temporary fabric transmutation..."

"With a dash of chaos theory...but since you were the first to do it."

"We need your help to complete this charm."

Itisa gave Harry a look that clearly said, 'I can't believe you're enabling these lunatics.'

"Count me in," Harry said, earning an even more judgmental stare from his Nundu.

⚯ ͛

The next morning, the Great Hall was unusually empty during breakfast. The staff table was full, but student attendance was suspiciously sparse.

"Mirabel," Professor McGonagall frowned, "where are your Hufflepuffs?"

"They should have been here by now," Professor Garlick replied, the young Professor looking concerned. "They're usually so punctual."

"My Ravenclaws are missing as well," squeaked Professor Flitwick.

Snape's lips curled into a familiar scowl. "Potter," he muttered darkly.

"Really, Severus," McGonagall began, "you can't possibly blame every-"

She was cut off by a wave of screaming students bursting through the Great Hall's doors. The scene before them was absolute chaos.

Draco Malfoy stormed in wearing bright red Gryffindor robes, his face almost matching the Gryffindor tie around his neck. Behind him, Hermione Granger was drowning in Slytherin green, while Neville Longbottom sported Ravenclaw blue.

"My robes!" Pansy Parkinson wailed, tugging at her red and gold attire. "I look like a filthy Gryffindor!"

"At least you're not wearing Hufflepuff yellow," Blaise Zabini muttered, adjusting his black and yellow tie with distaste.

McGonagall stood up, taking in the sight of complete chaos as students rushed about, some laughing, others horrified at their new colors. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted three particular students trying to slip unnoticed into the hall - two redheads and one dark-haired boy, all wearing different colors. She remembered the one time months ago when Harry had managed to change the colors of his robes by using runes, and since the Weasley Twins were standing nearby, she knew who was responsible for this mess.

"Professor Snape's robes are changing too," Flitwick pointed out with a smile of amusement, and Minerva could swear she could see smoke coming out of Snape's ears when she saw what kind of color his robes had right now.

The breakfast that would later be known as "The Great Robe Swap" had begun, and somewhere in the chaos, a certain disguised Nundu was giving her human companion the most exasperated look a cat could manage.

⚯ ͛

Harry leaned against the wall, trying and failing to suppress his laughter as chaos erupted in the Great Hall. Itisa sat beside him, giving him her patented 'I told you so' look.

"Oh, come on," Harry whispered to her. "You have to admit, this is brilliant."

Fred and George materialized beside him, both wearing Ravenclaw robes. "Masterpiece, isn't it?" Fred grinned.

"Though I must say," George added, "your suggestion about the timing-delayed charm was inspired."

"POTTER!" Snape's voice cut through the pandemonium. He was storming toward them, his usually black robes now sporting Gryffindor colors.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked innocently. "Love the new look, by the way. Really brings out your eyes."

Snape's eye twitched. "Twenty points from-" he stopped, realizing he couldn't actually tell which house Harry was supposedly in, as his robes were now Hufflepuff yellow, and he was in Slytherin, so that meant he couldn't get points from his house.

"From...?" Harry prompted helpfully.

"Actually, Severus," Professor Garlick approached, trying to hide her amusement, "I believe Mr. Potter is currently in my house, at least according to his robes."

"Those robes are not his actual-" Snape began.

"But how can we be sure?" Harry interrupted. "I mean, what if the spell revealed our true inner house alignments? Maybe you've always been a Gryffindor at heart, Professor."

Snape looked like he might spontaneously combust.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was having an existential crisis at the Slytherin table, wearing bright Gryffindor robes. "This is a nightmare. Wait until my father hears about this!"

"Draco," Harry called out, "red really is your color. Brings out the perpetual blush of indignation you've got going on."

The twins snickered as Hermione walked past in Slytherin green, nose buried in a book. "Trying to figure out the counter-charm, Hermione?"

She looked up. "Actually, this is fascinating magic. The way you've linked the color-changing charm with a randomization algorithm and tied it to the castle's own magical signature... it's quite brilliant."

"Only you would analyze the educational value of a prank, Hermione," Harry grinned.

"How do you even know we did this?" Fredy or George asked innocently.

"Because Harry was the one who managed to change the colors of his robes four months ago, and today, he entered in the Main Hall in your company." Hermione said with a smile.

"Pure coincidence, Granger," Fred said brightly.

"Statistical anomaly," George added.

"Million-to-one chance," Harry contributed.

Professor McGonagall approached their group, her usual emerald robes now sporting Ravenclaw colors. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley. I assume you have an explanation for this?"

"Would you believe we're promoting inter-house unity?" Harry suggested brightly.

"Yeah," Fred added, "can't have house prejudices if you can't tell which house anyone's in!"

"Genius, really," George nodded sagely.

McGonagall's lips twitched suspiciously. "And how long will this... promotion of unity last?"

"About twenty-four hours," Harry admitted. "Unless someone tries to reverse it, then it lasts forty-eight hours and adds glitter."

"You added a anti-tampering clause?" Hermione looked impressed despite herself.

"Of course," Harry shrugged. "Always read the fine print."

Sebastian Sallow walked up, wearing Ravenclaw robes. "Potter, Anna says this is the best thing she's seen all year. She hasn't stopped laughing since breakfast started."

"Then it was worth it," Harry grinned. "How's she feeling today?"

"Better," Sebastian smiled. "She wants to talk with you later. She has questions about that magical creatures book you lent her."

Itisa made a sound that somehow managed to convey both affection and exasperation.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore's voice carried across the hall. He was approaching in bright yellow Hufflepuff robes, his eyes twinkling madly. "I must say, this is quite innovative charm work."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry beamed. "Yellow suits you, actually. Though I notice your beard remained unchanged."

"Ah yes," Dumbledore stroked his silver beard thoughtfully. "It seems to have developed a certain resistance to pranks over the years. Most mysterious."

"I'll have to work on that," Harry mused.

"Don't you dare," McGonagall warned.

"Now, while I appreciate the technical skill involved," Dumbledore continued, "and the admirable goal of house unity, I believe some point deduction is in order."

"Of course, sir," Harry nodded seriously. "Though you might want to wait until tomorrow to decide which house to take them from."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even more. "A fair point. In the meantime, perhaps you could assist Professor Flitwick in analyzing the charm work? For academic purposes, of course."

"Of course," Harry agreed solemnly, while Itisa made a sound suspiciously like a snort.

Just then, Daphne Greengrass walked past in Gryffindor robes, looking murderous. "Potter, when this wears off, we're going to have words."

"Looking forward to it," Harry called after her. "Red really brings out your threatening aura!"

"You're going to regret this," she promised.

"Probably," Harry agreed cheerfully. "But right now, I'm enjoying the view."

The twins high-fived him as Daphne stormed off.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Garlick approached, her usually green dress now sporting Ravenclaw colors. "While I appreciate the creativity, perhaps next time you could avoid including the faculty's wardrobes?"

"But Professor," Harry protested, "you look lovely in blue! Though green is definitely your color."

She tried to look stern but couldn't quite manage it. "Flattery will not save you from detention, Mr. Potter."

"Worth a try though," he grinned. "And technically, according to my current robes, you're my Head of House, so..."

"Nice try," she laughed. "But I believe Professor Snape still has that honor, regardless of temporary color changes."

"Shame," Harry sighed dramatically. "Your detentions probably involve less pickling of suspicious substances."

As the chaos continued around them, Itisa gave Harry another look.

"Yes, yes, you were right," he conceded quietly. "But admit it - this is much more fun than a quiet breakfast."

The Nundu's response was to flick her tail and walk away with what could only be described as feline disdain.

"Drama queen," Harry muttered affectionately, then turned back to the twins. "So, about that other idea we discussed..."

"No," chorused every teacher within earshot.

"I hadn't even finished the sentence!" Harry protested.

"We know you too well by now, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said dryly.

As Harry opened his mouth to argue, Sebastian cut in, "Quit while you're ahead, mate. You've already got at least three detentions lined up."

"Four," Snape corrected darkly.

"Worth it," Harry declared, watching as more confused students entered the Hall, each sporting randomly changed house colors. "Completely worth it."

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