A Question of Form ~ By Athena Keating-Thomas

A Question of Form
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A/N: This particular story is one part only and won't be a chapter story; the Snape ends here. Or this one at any rate. As most might guess, the breaks in between sections indicates the passing of some time ranging anywhere from a day to a week or more.

Be forewarned; this Snape should be considered to be the original somewhat nastier one despite this being a humorous story. This short is completely separate from my other story (and hopefully separate from any stories I might write in future!) There's a small Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference in here. Try as I might I just can't seem to keep small bits of humor from creeping into my writing now and again.

Disclaimers apply as always. JKR is to be admired; we are all in debt to her for creating such a wonderful universe to enjoy. I'm hoping to get reviews despite how short I expect this one to be. Thanks in advance!

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He knew he could do it. If that waste of skin Sirius could do it, so could he.

He would become an Animagus.

The advantage to having an alternate form could not be ignored, especially considering his current line of work (teaching brats was more of a punishment than an actual line of work). Spying on his former master could be considered a creative form of suicide if one didn't use every tool within his possible reach, and use it properly.

Thus, after the next day of punishment Snape made his way to the library, shooting malicious glares at any student who showed the slightest curiosity in his presence. His own library was more than sufficient when the subject was concerning most forms of potions research, not to mention his texts delving into alchemy and the other more respectable forms of magic, but the Restricted Section of Hogwarts library would contain the information he hadn't previously found the desire or need to seek out.

Needless to say he hadn't ever let a single tome of Divination even contemplate on the merest possibility of how to prophesize its way past the gate into his personal haven.

Passing through the library towards his intended goal, Snape spotted a pair of his seventh year students and growled, "Office hours," before they could do more than step in his direction and open their mouths. Thankfully they had been trained enough over their school career that they knew when it was best to not push things. Hit even the most oblivious person repeatedly enough and they'll learn to duck, Snape thought uncharitably. Even Neville had managed to begin to keep his fear under control in his classroom; fortunate as he didn't want to hear further stories about the 'Boggart Incident', be it from student gossip or teasing from his collegues. Nor was he particularly in the mood for another year of adding potions of spectacular colors, temperatures and consistancies to his customary black ensemble. He'd recently heard of the concept of a safety shower in Muggle chemistry classes and had to grudingly admit the sense to the idea, but had as yet to find a way to broach the topic with Dumbledore without sparking off those infernal twinkles of amusement that were certain to appear in his eyes.

The books he found on his required topic were sparse in number but he was still somewhat pleased to find that one of the few authors whose work he respected had published one of them. Swiftly, Snape took down the book after reciting the requisite spell authorizing him and checking it out at the same time for Madame Pince's records. With that, his retreat back to his chambers was just as swift and dotted with the occasional snarl at students who got in his way and/or didn't manage to get out of his way fast enough for him.

A soft mutter and a sigh of relief escaped Snape only after he had closed and warded his door firmly behind him. He carefully deposited the book on his end table and set about brewing himself a proper cup of tea. Being a potions master, he knew a bit on the subject of brewing.

At long last, Snape settled himself next to his fireplace in his favorite armchair, warded it against floo communication, lit it and readied himself for a good long read. Sleep was something he found was overrated and only did it out of necessity.

As he read, Snape found himself somewhat surprised at how long the process of animagus training usually took considering again that the wretched refuse Sirius had been able to accomplish the task. Well... the man was stubborn.

This was definitely going to take a while.

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Most of the rest of the year had passed with Snape's adhering to his strict plan of exercise and meditation each night after dinner and detentions before bed. He knew he was close. He was certain of it. Soon the transformation would begin... perhaps even his next attempt.

And he was proven correct. The next time he finished the meditation exercises and began to concentrate upon letting his body find the change he felt a tingling in his arms and shoulders. From where he sat cross legged on his mat he felt the urge to raise his elbows slightly and let his arms hang out and down. His fingers twitched and he felt himself lean his upper body forward before the sensation ended and he came back to himself.

Hmmm. A bird of some sort perhaps. Potentially very useful. He was satisfied with his progress thus far.

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Snape's progress had continued apace- as to be expected with someone of his intelligence and capability, he thought to himself. The last few attempts had both made him more comfortable with the sensations that heralded the beginning of the change, and each time he was able to stay in that frame for longer... watch it progress just a little farther... settle himself into that frame of mind easier and quicker.

Yes, it was like taking baby steps, but self-transformation was something he wasn't going to fool around with or cut corners on due to pride.

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The theory of a bird form was proven out. When Snape was firmly settled into the mindset he explored it... found he was comfortable with it and set out to explore further. He pushed just the smallest amount and focused upon that sensation along his upper body. Here the question of what would happen to his clothes was answered as they seemed to shift just a little, drawing into him ... connecting to him while the skin of his fingers and wrist suddenly sprouted the tips of what he saw were feathers.

Black feathers, thank heavens.

Quickly he released himself from the change; distractions in the midst of transformations could result in something very unfortunate. Taking a deep and cleansing breath, Snape rewarded himself with one of his custom tea blends and the time to relax.

At least he wasn't going to change into some sort of horrifically colored tropical bird. That would be bad for camoflauge.

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Each time Snape made the attempt he got further into the change. He wasn't particularly enthusiastic over watching his legs start their transformation into bird claws for the first time, but it was all in the name of science ... and self-preservation.

The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea of having a bird form; it could possibly be the difference between life and death should his spying be discovered and a quick escape needed. With this in mind, Snape worked all the harder.

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Well. His feathers were fully formed and thankfully remained black, but he didn't seem to shrink in size as much as he had thought he would. Ravens were smaller than this ... He felt the hardness of a beak beginning to form; a nice strong one for biting.

Snape felt fatigued of late and it had affected his work to the extent that Albus had a few gentle words with him, concerned for his health. But Snape knew it wouldn't be long now. He could rest afterwards, when his new talent was developed fully. At least hours awake from insomnia weren't being wasted any longer.

He wondered if he'd dream about flying after experiencing it firsthand.

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At last! He was on the cusp of it; he felt it like the first time the changes began. This time the transformation would be complete and he would be able to take full measure of that which he would become.

And then, like a sprinter getting his second wind, Snape burst through the barrier between human and animal. His arms and long-fingered hands developed into wings, sprouting feathers that merged with the longer ones made from his black robe. His stature changed from biped to avian as he swiftly shrunk in size. His voice changed to a strange noise in his suprise and triumph, and he gave the last push instinctively to settle himself into his new form.

It took a few minutes to get used to the new body; how it balanced and how it moved. Soon enough he flexed his wings, folded them into his body and carefully set out to walk to the mirror he had set out for himself earlier. At long last he would be able to solve the puzzle of his new avian identity.

His first look at the mirror shocked him, but as he continued to stare and consider the characteristics of this bird and his own (unwilling) history with it. He supposed he shouldn't be entirely suprised.

He was a vulture.

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A/N2: I have nothing against vultures, personally. In fact I found a very interesting webpage that contained Indian myth about the Vulture and it does seem a very Snape-like bird both in function and form.

More Info on Vultures

He cleans up others messes so that we don't run into carcasses everywhere and digests bacteria and other things that would do us harm, etc. The main humor behind my choice of animagus form is The Boggart Indicent and the hat involved in it.

I hope you enjoyed this one; I found myself putting more thought behind the ideas than I intended to...

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