Metamorphmagus Training
That week, Leo kept reassuring his family that he was fine. And wanted the issue passed them immediately.
And in many ways, he was.
He kept to his usual routines—studying late into the night, painting by the window when the light was good, playing his guitar and his violin in the common room when he needed solitude. He laughed with his friends, traded jokes, helped with homework. On the surface, nothing had changed.
But there were fractures.
When he hang out with his friend sometimes mid-laugh, his smile would falter—just for a second too long. His fingers would tighten around a brush or bow, his jaw clenching before he caught himself. Anger and sadness flickered across his face like a shadow passing over the sun, gone so quickly most never noticed.
Most.
Cedric Diggory did.
He didn't know what had happened only that something had. Months of friendship had taught him this much about Leo, he preferred light over darkness, forward motion over reflection. Ask him about his achievements, and he'd glow. Ask him about pain and awkward conversation, and he'd stiffen, polite and distant, suddenly unsure where to put his hands.
So Cedric didn't ask.
Instead, he went to Tonks to help him in some way.
They sat in the common room, pretending to revise while watching Leo play his violin nearby
Tonks caught Cedric's look and followed it.
"Oh," she muttered. "Yeah. I see it."
She didn't hesitate. "I've got an excuse."
Tonks approached Leo while he was mid-piece, the final note still vibrating in the air.
"Wotcher, Leo," she said casually. "Your metamorphmagus control's getting better—but it's stagnant."
Leo blinked, lowering his violin. "Yeah," he admitted. "I noticed that too."
"Well," Tonks continued, rocking back on her heels, "we've got two weeks before finals. You're already more prepared than most first-years which isn't saying much since I only know a handfull, but still. So why not do something fun?"
Leo snorted. "Metamorphmagus training is fun until I can't change my face back. Last time, I turned myself into a star-shaped head."
Tonks burst out laughing. "We warned you! You got so into the spotlight you literally try and became one. For a three days your shins were pointy!"
Leo pouted. Unfortunately for him, Cedric was close enough to hear. Cedric failed miserably at hiding his laughter.
"But," Tonks continued, grinning, "you did succeed to change a complex transformation and undid the transformation in the end ."
She leaned closer. "And I think it's finally time we moved on."
Leo's brows rose. "Moved on to…?"
"Advanced partial animal transformation."
He froze.
"You…..do you think I'm ready?"
Tonks studied him carefully. Not his magic. Him.
"You're more than ready," she said firmly. "No more useless bits—beaks, pig snouts, random fur. We're done with party tricks."
She ticked items off on her fingers. "Wings. Fast-animal legs. Rabbit ears for enhanced hearing."
She grinned. "So. What do you say?"
Leo smiled, slow and genuine, and nodded.
The following week was brutal.
Leo barely touched his usual schedule. After class, he went straight to the library, burying himself in anatomy books skeletal diagrams, muscle groups, nerve maps. He sketched animals obsessively, annotating joints and proportions, then practiced morphing in abandoned classrooms and empty courtyards.
It hurt.
A lot.
Bones protested when they shifted wrong. Muscles seized mid-transformation. Once, he tried forming hind legs and collapsed in a heap, his knees bending the wrong way before snapping back with a sickening pop. Another time, fur burst through his skin unevenly, itching and burning before vanishing again.
He didn't let anyone see the process except for Tonks, even in his family Tonks were the only one to see him train. No one understand how despite having and advantages to transform at will it still needed a brutal polish, Tonks the only one know this. Despite the hurts it cost, pain that cause oneself by the transformation mishap generally didn't last long or have a lasting effect, so they didn't need to go to the hospital every time he injured. It process if it has mishap will be painful but the recovery is just as fast after reverting back to normal.
The pain was sharp, humiliating—but it drowned out other thoughts. The Malfoys faded into the background, replaced by sensation, focus, effort.
Tonks was relentless.
"Again."
"Slower."
"Stop forcing it—listen to your body."
"Don't fight the instinct. Redirect it."
She didn't coddle him, but she didn't abandon him either. When his hands shook too badly to continue, she wordlessly passed him a chocolate frog. When frustration made his eyes sting, she cracked a joke so stupid he laughed despite himself.
Eight days in, something clicked.
Leo focused, breathing slow and even.
His ears tingled.
Then stretched.
Then shifted.
Soft fur brushed his cheeks as long rabbit ears rose from his hair. He gasped—and staggered as sound flooded in. Footsteps three corridors away. Pages turning floors below. Whispers through stone walls.
He winced, clutching his head. "Merlin—everything's so loud!"
Tonks clapped her hands. "There it is! Okay—relax, breathe, you'll adjust."
After a minute, the noise dulled to something manageable.
Leo stared at her. "How do you do this so smoothly?"
Tonks laughed. "I don't. Not really. Some animals still make me sick. Bird vision gives me migraines, but once you successful once the latter will be easier."
She shrugged. "Nobody masters everything."
She glanced at the clock. "Alright. You've got one success. That means it's time to think about exams."
Leo nodded.
He'd suspected it—Tonks pushing training this close to finals wasn't accidental. But he understood now. This was exactly what he'd needed.
Spending time with Tonks helped him accept something he hadn't wanted to face: she'd been dealing with comments, expectations, and objectification far longer than he had.
And she was still herself.
Strong. Loud. Unapologetic.
Watching her stand unbroken didn't make him bitter.
It made him determined to not be weak.
If this was what waited for him as he grew older, then he wouldn't shrink.
He would grow sharper.
Stronger
and more pettier
And when the world tried to cut him down again, he would face it—
with a smile.