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A Harry Potter Fanfic
The Best Kings Wear Skirts
By: Grounders10
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Chapter One: A Blade of Light
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Waking up sore and in some degree of pain was, unfortunately for Harry, a familiar enough occurrence that even waking up sore from head to toe was merely unpleasant rather than terrible. Even so, it took several minutes for him to stop staring at the plain white ceiling and actually attempt to sit up. Doing so drew a pained groan from his lips that sounded… off.
He licked his dry lip and coughed once he was sitting up. He was in some sort of infirmary. It was lit by Lanterns hung from hooks mounted in a line down the middle of the low ceiling. A dwarven woman dressed quite similarly to Madam Pomfrey looked up from her desk in the corner. "Ah, you're awake," she said, hurrying over, "How do you feel?"
"Thirsty, sore," Harry said before his stomach chimed in with a growl.
"Hungry as well. Not surprising, you've been out all day," the nurse said, "Stay in bed, I'll be back in a moment." She hurried off, leaving the room and leaving him to his thoughts.
Harry stretched and yawned before laying back down to wait for the nurse to return. He didn't wait very long though before the feeling of something being off started to get to him, and yet he couldn't place it. Something was off. He sighed and reached up to remove his glass and paused.
He wasn't wearing glasses and he could still see just fine. How?
"Huh." His voice still sounded odd too, and not in that way of 'I need more water' or 'I just woke up'. "Aaaah, aaaah," he sang, listening to his voice. It sounded a bit high to him. What on earth had happened when he tried to draw the sword? He held up a hand and stared at it intently. It looked oddly slender, but was it just the light or…?
He sighed and let his hand drop to his chest. He rubbed a sore spot on the left side and paused. He rubbed the spot again. Was it just him or did his chest feel soft and like there was a rather large lump under his oversized t-shirt?
The door to the infirmary swung open and he sat back up, his mind full of questions. The nurse was back, with a plate of sandwiches, a full pitcher and a large glass of water. Behind her came the Director, the old dwarf looked relieved as he saw him sitting up.
"Harry, child, you're awake," he said with a look of relief, "And you're looking… well, you're looking better."
Harry grimaced as he accepted the water. He didn't hesitate to guzzle the entire glass of water before speaking. "Did I look that bad?" he asked.
"Not bad just… Well, Nurse how is… Harry," he stumbled at the end of the sentence, an odd look that boded ill on his face.
"Well enough to be shuffled out either to home or to Saint Mungo's," she said, "Assuming she eats." She shoved the plate into Harry's hands.
"She?" Harry repeated, staring at the Nurse before looking down at his hands. His very, in retrospect, feminine hands. There was that higher-pitched voice as well…
"Ms. Little," the Director said with a disapproving tone.
"Sorry, Director," she said, a blush across her face. The Director sighed.
"I have good and bad news," the Director said, shaking his head as the nurse scuttled away to her desk. "Which would you like to hear first?"
"... Let's start with what the bloody hell happened to me," Harry said, practically snapping at the old Dwarf as his hands patted down his body. Yes, those were two large lumps on his chest. With a sinking feeling, he grabbed the sandwich off the plate to try and distract himself from the implications of what those lumps were.
The old Dwarf had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Erm, yes, let's start there. In the good news, you succeeded in drawing the sword, but the bad news is that you apparently had a mild case of spiritual possession by a fragment of You-Know-Who's soul," he said.
Harry choked on the sandwich he had just taken a bite of and quickly washed it down with a glass of water. "What?" he demanded after he was done coughing.
"I'm afraid I don't know the full details, but it had been held off by some spell your mother had placed on you," the Director said, "and the sword reacted to it once you drew the blade. Madam Lakeshire left this letter for you. I'm told it should explain things." He withdrew a folded letter and handed it over to Harry.
It was actually several pages long and the writing inside was graceful but seemed shaky in places. In it, the Lady of the Lake apologized for "unexpected side effects" and explained what had happened and what she had done and why as well as the consequences of it for both. It was a long complicated explanation that mostly went over Harry's head, but the short version was that the fragment of Voldemort that had been responsible for his headaches and who knew what else was gone. It had nearly killed him, but she had managed to prevent that outcome. Barely. There was more on what she had done to restore his body, but it went even further into details that he wasn't sure would even show up on the fifth-year OWLs, let alone in the work of a second-year Hogwarts student.
The important bit was that she had accidentally turned Harry into a girl.
"So, I'm… a girl now," Harry said. Harry stared at her hand.
"I'm afraid so, Lass," the Director said, "Madam Lakeshire told us to bring you to our infirmary here at the bank to recover rather than take you to the Wizard's hospital. She says that until you're old enough for the protections to break on its own, the only way to be able to transform you back would be to break it deliberately and-"
"She mentioned that," Harry said. The Director nodded.
"Right, well, erm… this is yours," Magni produced a six-inch-long scabbard from which jutted the hilt of the sword he had pulled from the stone, "It's larger on the inside, should be good for keeping it hidden. The sword is yours as is everything connected to it. As per the ancient charter Lakeshire Bank recognizes the ancient selection of Kings. All vaults and titles of House Pendragon are hereby recognized as transferring to your ownership." He held out the dagger-sized scabbard for him and she took it with great reluctance. To his surprise, a warm feeling not unlike when she first laid hands on his wand flowed down her arm.
Drawing an oversized longsword from a sheathe meant for a pocket knife was strange, but still not in the top ten of weird things Harry had seen since she had been introduced to the wizarding world. The blade itself felt perfect in his hand if a bit heavy… and oversized. Really, it was a bit much. She did have to wonder if she could use it as a wand.
He sheathed the blade again with some difficulty. Her arms weren't quite long enough to let her hold the hilt and tap the tip of the sword to the opening of the sheathe. "I never got an answer from her about what those titles are or what they mean these days," she said, "I can't imagine much really."
"It's a mixed bag, but you're correct in large. Most of the titles are functionally defunct without a recognized court," Magni replied, "The only title that still would have weight is that of King of Camelot, but from my research, the Ministry requires that the claimant present both a sword of Kings, which you have, and sits upon the throne of Camelot. Which requires knowing where Camelot is."
So in other words, she just earned a bunch of titles that were completely useless. "Great," he said sarcastically before shaking her head. And all she had to do to earn them was get turned into a girl. Lovely.
Just bloody lovely.
He had to force herself not to start sulking. This had been a horrible idea. "And the vaults?" There couldn't be that much still worth anything after Camelot disappeared.
Magni pulled out a small notebook. "The vaults are in an interesting situation," he said, "The majority of the rare artifacts and magical items of the Round Table were lost when Camelot disappeared. The gold, jewels and other items, however, were not lost. We at the Lakeshire Bank are descended from those Dwarves who were entrusted as the treasurers and guardians of the wealth of the Round Table. That wealth, however, was severely diminished following the campaigns that led up to the fall. Armies are, unsurprisingly, expensive."
"So there isn't much then?" Harry asked, guessing at their state.
Magni snorted. "Lass, we are more than Goblins. We Dwarves have our pride and those vaults were entrusted to use to care for and protect. So we cared for them knowing that one day there would be a new King Pendragon."
"I'm not exactly a King like this," she grumbled.
The older Dwarf bowed his head apologetically and continued, "Over the centuries we have sought to restore the wealth of House Pendragon through smart investments of its remaining wealth. At present, the combined vaults of House Pendragon are theorized to comprise nearly forty percent of Lakeshire Bank's total value. Needless to say, should you ever feel the need to pull all of your funds from our vaults we will be completely ruined."
That… had to be a lot of money. "I- Don't think I'm that angry with you that I'd do that," he said. Well, he wouldn't yet.
"We will endeavour to make up for this incident," Magni replied as he flipped through the notebook, "I must apologize, however, since the majority of your wealth is tied up in valuable materials such as bars of gold and silver or in stocks, bonds, and other investments throughout the wizarding and muggle worlds. We have kept very little in soluble forms of monetary value. Galleons do not make money just by sitting there after all."
He paused at a page. "That said when Madam Lakeshire decided to inform us of this meeting we took precautions just in case. Vault 16 has seen some of its Gold sold off in exchange for Galleons. At present, it currently contains Eight-Hundred and Thirty Thousand Galleons and Twenty-Three Thousand Sickles. I'm told the exchange ran out of Galleons that day. This should be more than sufficient for your immediate uses while we work to free up more gold, but gold sales are heavily regulated in both Muggle and Magical worlds and we will have to proceed slowly so as to avoid attracting unwanted Muggle attention or substantially affecting the gold market and thus devaluing the rest of your assets. The same can be said of other materials such as silver and platinum."
"That's a lot of Galleons," Harry said, stunned. She didn't think he had anywhere near that much in his own vault in Gringotts. Though… Harry didn't actually know the exact contents of her Gringott's vault.
"That it is. Truthfully, it is more than most will ever see in their lifetimes," Magni said, "I would advise clearing any large purchases with us just in case. Your wealth is such that until you take the throne and say otherwise we will be required to provide regular reports on any large purchases to the Wizengamot as per the Finance Act of 1962."
Harry nodded, not truly understanding, though part of her really didn't like that anyone was tracking what she would be doing with her own money. "What's a large purchase?" she asked.
"Business acquisitions, large gold transfers, gifts, extremely excessive shopping sprees ranging in the tens of thousands of galleons," Magni said.
He stared at the Dwarf. "Oh," she said, "I see."
"Beyond that, your vaults are currently undergoing an evaluation of their contents and a full inventory. Some of our records are unfortunately damaged by time and… incidents," he grimaced, "I can not give an estimate on how long this might take, but I will continue to keep you up to date as we progress."
"Thanks," Harry said weakly. Her mind was failing him trying to picture everything. "Um, what time is it?"
Magni pulled out a pocket watch. "Just after ten in the morning on the tenth of august. We did send word to the Leaky Cauldron that you would be staying the night so there shouldn't be anyone worried about your location at this time," he said, "Let's see if there is anything else… Ah yes, your complimentary Lakeshire purse." He pulled a coin purse made from what Harry recognized as dragon's leather out of his coat. It was fairly small and it seemed to be relatively empty as he placed it in her hand.
Harry hefted it. It seemed a bit heavier than it should have given the size. She popped it open and found that the insides were expanded to many times the volume of the purse. All of which were filled with galleons, knuts and sickles. "Um…"
"Lakeshire purses can contain up to one thousand galleons. I took the luxury of having some of your money withdrawn for personal spending while we audited the rest of your assets," the Director continued, "And… ah, here we go. This should be the last thing." He produced a slip of paper and handed it over. It had a time (2:30pm), date (tomorrow), and address of a Doctor's office in Conceptu Alley. "At Madam Lakeshire's request, we've booked you an appointment to see a doctor about any lingering issues from yesterday's events. While you can certainly afford it now, due to our role in things Lakeshire Bank will be covering the cost of the visit."
"Thank you?" Harry said feeling utterly overwhelmed. The old Dwarf reached out and patted him on the hand.
"I am sorry for what has happened, Harry," he said, clearly picking the only gender-neutral option available, "Should you require help with anything. Finding proper clothes, further doctor's appointments, acquiring rare potions ingredients, whatever you might need, please feel free to send my office a letter. We at Lakeshire Bank are happy to offer whatever aid we can."
He nodded and pulled at his shirt. It felt even larger on him now, but there was a part of him that didn't want to know what might be considered 'proper' clothing now. At the same time, when was the last time she had had her own clothes rather than Dudley's cast-offs? Well, her robes last year, but she couldn't go around wearing robes all the time. He'd seen a lot of wizards do that, but it meant he wouldn't be able to go into London…Which he wasn't supposed to go to anyways at the moment, but then again he did like to wear something else. It wasn't like you went naked under them or anything.
Though now that he thought about it he was pretty sure Seamus Finnigan had done that at least once last year. Then again, he kept blowing himself up so maybe he just hadn't had anything else to wear?
Director Magni pocketed his book and straightened his coat. "As I said, send us a letter should you need a half. Ms. Little will show you to the lobby once you're ready to leave," he said.
"Right. Thank you… Though…" Harry rubbed the side of his face, "This isn't anything like what I was expecting."
Magni nodded. "Out of curiosity, what did you expect?" he asked.
"Dunno. Maybe something about putting my name on something? Maybe an interview or a kidnapping attempt or something other than pulling a sword out of a stone and getting told I'm now the Heir to Camelot?" She said, letting out a bit of a hysterical giggle. It was like some kind of twisted dream or something. If only it didn't hurt so much. "Two months ago I stabbed a giant snake to death, now I'm what? A King? Queen? Princess?"
"Harry…" Magni started, then stopped. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed gently as the hysterical giggling turned into tears.
It was a long while before Harry left the Lakeshire Bank.
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It was just after lunch when Harry returned to the Leaky Cauldron. He was tired, despite the sleep; sore, and she needed a shower. No one looked her way as Harry ducked up the stairs and hurried to his room. He slammed the door shut behind himself and slid to the ground, leaning against the door. The walk back had been hell. His balance was completely screwy and he kept nearly tripping over his own feet. Hedwig hooted from her perch and Harry looked up at her with a worried expression.
"Please tell me you recognize me, Hedwig," he asked. The snowy owl fluttered over to his shoulder and pecked him lightly on the ear before hooting again and rubbing her head against his hair. Hedwig let out an inquisitive hoot. "A magic sword and really bad ideas," Harry replied. Hedwig let out a disdainful hoot before fluttering over to the perch by the open window.
Harry sat there listening to the sounds of London, honking horns mostly, and the invisible crowds of Diagon Alley. Not a single one of them had a clue what had happened to her. Not even her friends. He chewed a lip and looked down, taking a peek down his own shirt before letting it go hastily. He hadn't done that before and the sight of two distinct dome-shaped
things on his chest was oddly mortifying. He had tried to stop thinking about it, tried to just ignore it on the way back from Conceptu Alley, but the fact she was a girl now kept poking its nose into her thoughts.
He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He needed a shower, but before that, he wondered if he should write someone and explain what happened. Could he just… ignore this and just keep going like nothing happened? Just ignore the fact he'd turned into a girl, and that she'd done so by ignoring Minister Fudge's orders? She frowned. That was the thing, wasn't it? Being limited to Diagon Alley had been essentially the condition for not getting in trouble for blowing up her Aunt, or at least that's how it had felt and now she'd run off and gotten all tangled up in something even worse.
He was going to be in so much trouble if anyone in a place of authority found out, a shiny sword of kings or whatever, or not.
Grumbling, he got up and headed for the bathroom, wobbling a little as he went. She paused in front of the vanity and its mirror. This was the first time she had seen herself since the transformation. Somehow no one had mentioned the fact that despite still being as long as it ever was her hair had turned red. A more brilliant and vibrant red than her mother had had, that had been plopped onto her head like an unwanted mop.
Her face was… fairly close to what it had been. Honestly, it looked like she'd put on a bit of weight more than anything. She was shorter as well, though that had mostly just undone the last couple of months of growth leaving her without her most recent growth spurt. It didn't stop her from looking like she was drowning in her cousin's old shirt even more than before. It was even enough to hide any difference in shape to her torso.
"I'm sorry to say this, but you look terrible darling," the mirror said, "Perhaps a bath can help."
And even the mirror thought she looked terrible. She sighed. To the bath it was, no matter how awkward this was going to be.
Then a Raven dived into her room, dropped a letter on the bed and flew back out the window like it was fleeing the scene of a crime. Harry stared after it before looking at her bed. Cautiously she leaned out over the bed and looked down. It was addressed to her. '
Harry Potter, Leaky Cauldron, Third Flood, Second Bedroom'.
Grabbing the awkwardly heavy coat rack to use as a stick she carefully flipped it over. The other side had a wax seal with a sword imposed behind a chalice of some sort. She set the coat rack back where it was and picked up the letter. She popped the seal and when no curse or spell hit her she pulled out the letter and unfurled it to read.
Dear, Harry Potter
My champion, I send this letter so soon after the last because it occurs to me that you are unlikely to simply accept the hand that fate has seemingly dealt you. Despite what I have explained in my previous letter I am certain you will seek some method of restoring yourself. Know again that this is likely to be a foolish task until your Seventeenth when the protections that have transformed you shall fall. At such a time you might be able to find the spells or potions required, but until then you will be restored from any effect that might alter this form of yours by the protections if given enough time. Yes, that includes dismemberment, though it does not include death. I advise not testing this if at all possible since I cannot promise that the experience will be anything but excruciating.
Should you still wish to attempt to undo your transformation I would suggest the following:
- Take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. You will need them to understand what your mother did.
- When you reach Hogwarts find the following books:
- A Comprehensive Manual to Safe Magic Use, by Helga Hufflepuff
- A Potioneer's Safety Manual, by Helena Ravenclaw
- The Manual of Alchemic Protections by Nicholas Flamel
- Understanding the Sword, A Combat Safety Manual, by Salazar Slytherin
- Basic Animal Handling, A Manual for the Aspiring Beast Tamer, by Godric Gryffindor
After reading them, take a walk through the library, and you may be amazed at what you find. Just keep your eyes peeled.
Yours Truly,
Lilian Lakeshire
Lady of the Lake
P.S. Your companions would be advised to read them as well if you wish them to be of help. And please, remember to keep your eyes open for any sign of Camelot. Oh and don't bother with Divination, you have no inner eye.
Harry grimaced. Was he even allowed to change courses this late? Not to mention he had planned on taking Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Hell, he already had the Care of Magical Creatures book thanks to Hagrid. Could he drop Divination and take the other two classes?
He grimaced. If he needed those classes to understand what his mother's protection was then he'd need to do as the Lady said but… he groaned and folded the letter up. "After a bath," she said to her reflection. Or a shower, she was so tired she couldn't even remember which the Leaky Cauldron used. Dumping the letter on the bed he went to finally get cleaned up.
It was a very mortified Harry who flopped onto her bed afterwards, her normally messy hair was fairly flat for once. There was no way she was going to get used to this. No way at all.
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The rest of the month flew by at a rapid pace. After her shower, she had sent a letter to Professor McGonagal and received a new booklist not even four days later. Her Head of House had even sounded proud that she was 'taking his studies more seriously.' It made her flush with embarrassment and she had sworn to not mention the reason she had changed her mind to her Head of House.
Her doctor's appointment had given her a clean bill of health, other than the obvious. Being a girl had been an… experience over the last several weeks and she really could have done without the doctor giving her 'The Talk', apparently at the request of the Lady of the Lake. She hadn't been able to look at anyone close to her age without blushing for the next several days. There were details she really didn't think she needed to know. It had been enough, however, to convince her to pick up a few new things beyond her Hogwarts list.
After a lot of debating she had decided to try and avoid anything that could announce that she was a girl. It wouldn't be too bad if it came out during the school year. She could blame anything then. An improperly made potion, getting jumped by Slytherins (from behind obviously, though she probably couldn't claim it was Slytherins then), some abandoned prank the Weasley twins had forgotten about, or who knew what else. Then she could get help, but until then she'd just play it cool and not draw attention to herself. She could manage to stay out of the infirmary all year, right? It couldn't be that hard, most students managed it after all. At least the ones who weren't in Gryffindor.
To that end, she had avoided getting anything new beyond a new set of robes from Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, who had been able to point her in the direction of a potion to dye her hair black (as much as she liked being reminded of her mother it kind of gave the game away); a couple of second-hand Hogwarts regulation shirt that were several sizes too big; and underwear from an invitation-only store that the Lakeshire Bank had gotten her an invite to in Conceptu Alley. The witch, Ms. Anders, there had, had to be talked down from giving her a full makeover, but had managed to extract a promise to return whenever she 'came out'.
She still wasn't entirely sure they had been referring to the same thing.
In comparison picking up the rest of her booklist and restocking her potion supplies had been a breeze… with a few moments of weakness. With the windfall of money she had just received, she hadn't been able to talk herself out of making another pass at some of the stores in the area. Which was why she now had her very own Firebolt stored beside her Nimbus 2000. It had cost… more money than she was willing to admit to anyone, and had taken a bank draft signed off by Director Magni. The old dwarf had been visibly amused when she had visited the bank that day. Enough that she had felt vaguely embarrassed. It hadn't stopped her from getting it and she suspected that Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, would probably die of shock upon seeing it. That or pass out from sheer joy. One of the two.
She had spent the rest of the month doing homework, exploring the stores (in the process giving into a few more… impulse purchases like a crystal ball with a model of the galaxy in it for astronomy), and eating ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor. Once she had started using that potion, which had to be applied once weekly, on her hair the proprietor had no issue recognizing her. Though her loss of a few inches had to be covered up as a 'potions brewing mistake'. Between the potion and her oversized clothes, no one seemed to have noticed that she'd changed into a girl.
During that time she had kept an eye out for her friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, but all she managed to spot were a few classmates including Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan. Neither of whom had recognized her since she had yet to start using that potion. She had quickly hurried away from Neville when his Grandmother started scolding him for losing his booklist. She really, really hoped that the old witch never found out she'd impersonated her grandson when taking the Knight Bus from Privet Drive to Diagon Alley.
By the day before the trip to Kingscross, and the train ride on the Hogwarts Express, she had basically given up on seeing her friends before she got on the train. So running into Hermione as she came out of Magical Menagerie, a great big orange cat in her arms who honestly reminded Harry more of a miniature Tiger that had run itself repeatedly into a wall, was quite the surprise.
"Hermione!" she called and waved. Her friend, who had been fixated on petting the cat in her arms, looked up with a confused expression. "Hey!" She hurried over.
"Harry? Harry!" Hermione met her partway, she'd had to pause to settle the cat in her arms. "You look different," she said the moment they were close enough to no longer need to shout over the crowd.
"So do you," she replied. Hermione had a decidedly bronze skin tone. Wherever she had been all summer had clearly been nice and sunny.
Hermione shrugged. "You aren't wearing glasses and your voice, I didn't recognize you at first," she said, "You almost look smaller Harry. Have you been eating properly?"
"I've been eating great. I've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron. I'd given up on seeing you or Ron until the train," she said, reaching out to pet the cat cautiously. It gave her a sniff before allowing her to pet it. "And I had my eyes fixed this summer." It was technically true.
"Ron and I have been looking everywhere. Madam Malkins, Flourish and Blotts-"
"I got my stuff ages ago, Hermione. Where is Ron anyways?" she asked, glancing about for the lanky redhead.
"Chasing after Scabbers," Hermione said. The cat in her arms growled and Hermione petted it until it calmed down. "OH, this is Crookshanks, he's my new cat. Isn't he
gorgeous?"
Harry was bemused as she watched Hermione hug the giant cat tightly. He was certainly impressive, but gorgeous? He looked like he'd picked a fight with a wall, repeatedly, and lost, repeatedly. "If you say so," she said, "Why is Ron chasing after Scabbers?"
"Scabbers ran off after Crookshanks tried to catch him. Didn't you Crookshanks? Didn't you," Hermione cooed at her cat.
"... And you got him anyways," Harry sighed. She could already see this year's drama forming.
"He's gorgeous," was the only reply she received. Hermione straightened herself out after a minute. "Anyways, I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron until tomorrow and so is the entire Weasley family," she said.
"Really? I must have missed them when I came downstairs," Harry said. She admittedly hadn't been looking at the time, but she figured she'd have noticed a swarm of redheads.
"Hermione!" A familiar voice called and they both turned to find Ron hurrying up to them. The redhead looked flushed before he stopped and stared. "You bought that monster?" he said.
"He's gorgeous," Hermione replied.
"He tried to scalp me!" Ron said.
"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" Hermione asked her cat.
"And what about Scabbers? He needs rest and relaxation!" Ron said, pointing to his bulging chest pocket.
"He seems to manage just fine with all the other Owls and Cats around," Harry replied dryly. Ron opened his mouth, only to realize Harry was there.
"Harry! You're here," He said, "About time, we went-"
"Everywhere, Hermione told me," she said before shrugging, "I guess you just missed me."
Hermione took that moment to slap a bottle into Ron's hand. "Here, your rat tonic. You left it on the counter back there," she said.
"Oh, thanks," Ron mumbled as he pocketed it.
"Don't worry about Scabbers. They're going to be in two completely separate dormitories," Hermione said, rolling her eyes as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron. Ron grumbled and Harry couldn't help but notice that Crookshanks was staring at the pocket containing Scabbers intently.
"Hey, Harry," Ron said as they reached the brick wall, "You're looking a bit…" He made a gesture with his hands compressing.
"It's complicated, but I'm fine," Harry said. She hadn't actually considered what she was going to tell her friends. At least, not for very long. What was she supposed to say? 'Hey guys, I pulled a sword out of a stone and now I'm both a girl and the King of England' or Great Britain or whatever. She honestly couldn't recall which it had been.
"I said the same thing, Ron. Did something happen, Harry?" she said, shooting Harry a look.
"Nothing happened," she said with a shrug. She promptly ignored the look her friends shared. They didn't believe her. Well too bad, she wasn't sharing. No one needed to know she'd turned into a girl. She'd keep the secret as long as possible.
Thankfully they found Mr. Weasley reading the Daily Prophet at the bar. He looked up as they entered. "Harry! How are you?" the man asked with a smile.
"Fine, thanks," she replied before stifling a sigh as the man frowned.
"You're looking awfully thin. Have you been eating right?" he asked.
"I've been eating plenty. I eat here every night," Harry sighed. This was going to be a thing, wasn't it?
"And many lunches as well," Tom said from the bar as he cleaned several glasses, "No one goes hungry while staying here, no sir."
"I ate well," Harry said.
At that moment, Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts, and the newly elected Head Boy Percy, and the Weasley's youngest and only girl, Ginny. The youngest redhead turned a brilliant scarlet the moment she laid eyes on Harry and managed to squeak out a muttered hello as the rest of them said their hellos.
Percy took things a step further and took Harry's hands, shaking them quite pompously. "Harry, how nice to see you."
"Hello Percy," she said. It was like meeting Fudge all over again if he was visibly more pompous and overbearing at least. Or maybe like meeting the mayor.
"I hope you're doing well?"
"As I keep telling people I'm fi-"
"Harry!" said Fred as he elbowed Percy out of the way and bowed deeply, "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-"
"Marvelous," said George as he pushed Fred aside and seized Harry's hand in turn, "Absolutely spiffing."
The scowl said plenty about what Percy thought of this entire thing.
"That's enough now," Mrs. Weasley said.
"Mum!" Fred said as though he had only just spotted her, and seized her hand too. "How really corking to see you--"
"I said that's enough," their mother said, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed at the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" She seemed to swell with pride.
"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.
"I don't doubt that," Mrs. Weasley said, frowning suddenly. "I notice they didn't make you two prefects."
"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, a revolted expression appearing at the very idea, "It'd take all the fun out of life." Their sister giggled behind their mother.
Mrs. Weasley's eyes darted to Ginny and back again to the twins. "You want to set a better example to your sister!"
"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy, with airy superiority, "I'm going to go get changed for dinner."
He disappeared up the steps.
George leaned in close with a sigh. "We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry, "But Mum spotted us."
"You tried to lock him in a pyramid?" Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow at them.
"Well yeah."
"... Without any food or a way out?" She asked pointedly.
George opened his mouth, then closed it. He and Fred shared a look. "Yes?" they both said questioningly as though they were both just considering the consequences for the first time.
"Not your best idea guys," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm going to head up to my room and finish packing." She doubted they were trying to kill Percy, but there were moments when the Twins' grasp of consequences wasn't all that firm.
"One moment, dear," Molly Weasley said, taking Harry by her shoulders with a frown. "I swear you look smaller than when we last saw you, dear."
"Everyone keeps saying that," Harry said, "But I'm fine." And totally not a girl and looking to not get in trouble.
"Hrmph." Molly turned her one way and then the other, her eyes examining Harry critically. Harry smiled to cover up her nervousness at the intense scrutiny. Thankfully, her efforts seemed to be holding up to Mrs. Weasley's intense examination.
"Molly, let the boy go and pack. We'll need to be ready to go when the ministry cars arrive tomorrow," Mr. Weasley said.
"Of course, Arthur. Run along dear," Mrs. Weasley said, patting her on the shoulder, "I should go and do the same. Come along, let's go put away the shopping." With that Mrs. Weasley herded her children up the stairs, including Ron. There was much protesting.
"Ministry Cars?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley as she waited for the stairs to be somewhat less crowded.
"Yes, the Ministry is sending cars tomorrow since, well, we've lost ours and need a way to get to the station," he said.
"I was just planning on using the Floo," Harry admitted, "I figured that it would be quicker than taking a cab or the tube." She shrugged. She didn't exactly like the floo, after all, last time she had wound up in Knockturn Alley by accident, but she hadn't been about to haul a snowy owl in a cage through muggle London.
"... Yes, they do have floo connections at the station," Mr. Weasley said in a thoughtful tone, "Yes… Excuse me, Harry. I need to speak with my wife." He hurried up the steps leaving Harry and Hermione, who was petting her new cat at a nearby table. She gave the cat a pet and headed up after Mr. Weasley.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Dinner was great that night. Tom had shoved three tables together so that she, Hermione and the Weasleys could all sit and eat their way through a five-course meal together. The night, however, was punctuated by Harry trying to ignore the family feud of Ron and Percy in the room next door. They were so loud she eventually resorted to putting a pillow over her head in order to get some sleep.
The next morning was what Harry had come to understand was the usual pre-Hogwarts chaos that gripped the Weasley family. Missing socks, Percy's Head Boy badge had disappeared (which when found had seemingly been enchanted to read 'Humongous Bighead' by someone), and a loose
Monster Book of Monsters that had come scrambling down the stairs only to be tackled by the twins and tied up with a spare belt, were just some of the mishaps that Harry and Hermione watched play out from a nice table by the fireplace. She really had to wonder how they had this many issues when they had been there for just a night.
"I'm really not sure about taking the Floo with Crookshanks. What if he doesn't like it?" Hermione asked with a frown. Her cat had already been rustled into a metal cage that occasionally shook as the cat grumbled, though it submitted to Hermione's scritching with good humour. Mr. Weasley had, at breakfast, announced that they would be taking the Floo instead of a car. Something Harry suspected probably had to do with her own comment the night before.
"I'm sure it'll be fine, Hermione. I asked Tom about it and wizards have been moving their pets through the Floo for decades," Harry replied, "I'm just worried I'll get the wrong hearth again."
"Didn't you wind up in Knockturn Alley?" Her friend asked.
"Yup. If Hagrid hadn't been there I have no idea what would have happened," Harry said.
"Alright everyone, got everything?" Mr. Weasley asked as his wife herded the last of their children, the Twins, into the room. Once everyone confirmed that, yes, they had everything Mr Weasley added, "Your mother and I will be shrinking your trunks and handing them back once we're at the station so you won't have to hold onto them and your pets. Percy, you will be going first."
"Yes, Father," he said, puffing up with pride, his restored Head Boy badge visible on his chest along with his new owl.
"Make sure you say, very clearly, Platform 9 and ¾. We don't want a repeat of last year," Mr. Weasley said. Harry quietly went pink and tried to ignore the snickering from the Twins.
They started with Percy, then Ginny, then the Twins and Ron and finally Hermione and Harry went through. She made sure to pronounce it clearly and thankfully didn't inhale a bunch of soot at the last second this time. The spinning was just as bad as before and she found herself fired out of the fireplace like a cannon on the other end, sliding across the tiled floor of the station with Hedwig's cage on her chest. Her snowy owl shrieked and rattled the cage.
"Sorry girl," she apologized as she set the cage right on the floor next to her. Ron helped her up. "Thanks." She looked around. The scarlet red engine of the Hogwarts Express was as impressive as ever and her heart soared just a bit at the thought of being back at Hogwarts soon.
"No problem… Where are your glasses?" Ron asked, suddenly staring at her.
"Did you seriously not notice I haven't been wearing glasses until just now?" she asked, amused at his obliviousness. "I got them fixed this summer since I was staying in Diagon Alley."
"Huh."
"Come on everyone, let's get you loaded up!" Mr. Weasley called. They grabbed their trunks from Mrs. Weasley and as a group set out to find compartments. By the miracle of the Floo, they had somehow managed to arrive before most of the compartments could be filled and they had their pick from several carriages. Once their stuff was packed away they shuffled out to say one last goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
The plump woman kissed all her children, then Hermione and finally Harry, who was quite embarrassed but pleased when she got an extra hug. "Do eat more while you're at Hogwarts," she told Harry, who just nodded. She then opened her enormous handbag. "I've made you all sandwiches. Here is yours, Ron. No, they're not corned beef."
"Harry," Mr. Weasley said quietly as his wife handed out sandwiches, "Come over here for a moment." He jerked his head towards a pillar and Harry followed him behind it while the rest crowded about Mrs. Weasley.
"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave, Harry," he said with a tense voice.
"What?" Harry asked. She had to wonder what on earth could have made Mr. Weasley so tense.
"It's about Sirius Black," Mr. Weasley said and Harry glanced at a nearby wanted poster. The wild-haired man in it was grinning wide and snapping at those who came too close.
"What about him?"
"We believe, I believe, that he is broke out to come after you, Harry," he said.
"Seriously?" Harry asked, "Why me?"
"Sirius Black was supposedly You-Know-Who's second in command. He lost everything when You-Know-Who was defeated. The guards say that he spent the last several months repeating 'He's at Hogwarts' in his sleep. He's going to come for you Harry and if he can break out of Azkaban I'm sure he can break into Hogwarts," he said.
Harry frowned. "I'll be alright Mr. Weasley," she said. At his look of disbelief, she said, "I'm serious. He can't possibly be worse than Voldemort, can he?" She ignored his wince at the name.
"I knew you were made of stronger stuff than Fudge thinks, and I'm obviously pleased that you aren't terrified, but you need to understand how dangerous this is," Mr. Weasley said, "I knew Sirius Black primarily by reputation, but he is an exceptionally skilled wizard, Harry. Please, promise me you won't go looking for him?"
"What?" Harry stared.
"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley called, "We should get the kids onto the train while they can still get good seats!"
"Of course Molly! We'll be along in a moment! Promise me, Harry, that whatever happens-"
"Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?" Harry asked blankly.
"Arthur!"
"In a moment! Promise me you won't go after him, no matter what you hear," Mr. Weasley asked.
"Sure, I'm not going to go running after someone who wants me dead," she said. She had a lot more important things to do than risk her life chasing a madman through the forbidden forest. Frankly, she doubted he'd be able to do much compared to Voldemort with Albus Dumbledore in the castle.
Mr. Weasley patted her firmly on the shoulder before hurrying her over to Molly who gave her another hug and a kiss on the forehead before she climbed up onto the train where Ron and Hermione were waiting.
"We need to talk in private," she told them
"We really do," Hermione said with a frown.
"You two aren't talking about the same thing, are you?" Ron asked as he looked from one to the other.
"Probably not," Harry said, with a curious glance at Hermione.
They managed to claim a compartment halfway down the train as their own. Harry slid the door shut and turned around to find a wand pointed at her nose. "Hermione?" she asked, taking a step back into the door.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked, drawing his own wand with alarm.
"Trying to figure out if this is actually Harry," Hermione snapped, "Because I have a few doubts right now."
"What are you talking about Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to avoid making any sudden movements. She did not want to be on the receiving end of whatever Hermione decided was a suitable punishment for… impersonating herself. She hadn't done a good enough job hiding the changes apparently.
"Yeah, that's Harry, bloody hell, that's his owl," Ron said, jerking his head up where he had just helped shove Hedwig. The snowy owl hooted irritably.
"Oh really? He isn't wearing glasses, his hair is the wrong shade, his voice is wrong, he's an inch shorter than in June, and his body shape is entirely wrong," Hermione said listing things off. The wand got even closer to Harry's face and she found herself leaning back until her head touched the door. Ron's wand joined Hermione's a moment later.
"This really isn't how I wanted to have this conversation," Harry said.
"Oh, so you were going to tell us you'd replaced Harry? When?" Ron demanded angrily.
"No one's been replaced, you dolt. I got turned into a bloody girl three weeks ago!" she hissed.
The completely flummoxed look on both their faces was priceless and Hermione's wand dropped. "Oh Harry," Hermione said before pulling her over to the bench. She cast several spells on the door, of which Harry only recognized the locking charm from first year. "Have you told anyone?"
"A girl?" Ron asked, looking completely flummoxed still. "I- What happened? You don't look like a girl…"
"It's complicated," Harry said with a huff. With a frown, she grabbed the hem of her oversized shirt and pulled it down hard until it pulled taunt across her chest. She snorted as Ron's mouth went up and down like a fish out of water. She crossed her arms and put her back against the outer wall before pulling her legs up against her chest. "I should have expected Hermione to see straight through it," she said as she adjusted her shirt to better conceal her attributes again in case someone came in.
"You didn't really do a good job hiding it," her friend said between casting a few spells at her. Her expression seemed confused by their results.
"Don't bother trying to fix it. Let me explain what happened. Sit down Ron and stop gaping. You'll catch flies like that," she said, shooting Ron a halfhearted grin. He dropped into a seat and seemed to be having some sort of existential crisis. "So it started with this letter I got shortly after I arrived in Diagon Alley…"
-0-0-0-0-0-
"So you're a girl now, forever?" Ron asked.
"At least until I'm seventeen. The Lady of the Lake seems to think my mother's protections will break around then," Harry said, "At which point I can try and undo it. So for now I'm a girl. It's been a weird three weeks." She was sitting properly now with her sword across her lap. The blinds had been pulled on the door's window. The trolley lady had been by so they didn't have to worry about unlocking the door again. With luck, the charms they'd added to it would keep Malfoy from barging in for now.
"Oh Harry," Hermione pulled her into yet another hug and proceeded to fuss, pulling at her hair, "And you put a potion in it to get this colour?"
"Yeah. It'll wear off in a couple of days," she replied.
"Well, the colour is completely wrong. How long were you planning on keeping this a secret?" Hermione asked critically.
"As long as possible," Harry replied.
"From us as well?" Ron asked, offended.
"I don't know, I hadn't planned that far ahead," Harry said, sighing with exasperation.
"So you're just going to try and hide it from the school? You're going to be in the boy's dorm Harry, as a girl," Hermione said, "I'm sure that's got to break at least one rule and seriously doubt this is going to work at all. The school has magics to sort people into the appropriate dormitories automatically."
"Yeah, when they're sorted," Harry replied, "I'm not getting sorted. I've already got a bed in the boy's dorm and unless someone tells them I should be in the clear."
"That's not going to work," Hermione said, a sigh on her lips as she continued to scrutinize Harry.
"He- She- Harry'll be fine, Hermione," Ron said. He looked properly awkward as he glanced between Harry and the window. Harry swore his eyes dipped for a second before they went back. "But are you sure Harry? I mean, this is going to be really awkward and you know what the bathroom is like. There's no way you're getting through that for another five years without being caught."
"So long as it lasts long enough I can blame anything other than what happened, I'll be fine," she said. She awkwardly sheathed her sword and stored it inside her robes. "Besides, you two couldn't even tell I was a girl until I told you. I've got to be an absolutely terrible girl if you can't even tell."
"I can't even tell how Hermione noticed that stuff. I mean, I'd noticed the glasses, but," Ron said before shrugging.
"It's because you're oblivious Ronald," Hermione said with a sigh before tugging down on Harry's shirt and frowning. "I've never asked, but why are your clothes so bulky?"
"Most of them are hand-me-downs from my cousin," she said with a frown, "He's a fat oversized whale of a boy. We're the same age but he's always been so big that stuff from a year or two ago still manages to fit."
"This isn't fitting. This is burying," Hermione said with a frown, "I swear if I hadn't noticed your robes were cut for a girl I wouldn't have noticed your body shape. I'm right here and I still can't see anything beyond a blob Harry."
"It's fine. It'll help keep people from noticing," Harry said, grumbling as Hermione continued to poke and prod her. "Would you stop?"
"Sorry, I just really don't think this is going to work," Hermione replied.
"She's probably right, you know Harry," Ron said, "Now that I'm looking you're more like your own sister than a boy."
"Just drop it," Harry said, crossing her arms back over her chest. Determined to change the conversation she said, "Ron, your dad pulled me to the side to talk about Sirius Black."
"What? Why?" Ron asked. Harry explained.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione groaned, "First you turn into a girl and now Sirius Black escaped to get to get you too." She hugged Harry again, burying her head in the startled not-redhead's shoulder with a sniff. "Just try not to go looking for trouble, alright Harry?"
"I don't go looking for trouble, Hermione. Trouble usually finds me," Harry replied, somewhat annoyed.
"How thick would Harry have to be to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" Ron asked, nerves clear in his voice.
"I suppose…" Hermione said, nibbling her lower lip as she pulled back. "Harry, what colour is your hair supposed to be if you're using a potion to turn it black again?"
"... Red," she replied, blushing hard.
"Seriously?" Ron said, shaking his head.
"Oh Parvati and Lavender are so going to drag you off to some of the places in Hogsmeade after you get found out," Hermione said and shook her head, "There's no way they'll accept you wearing things this baggy if they have a choice."
"Well they'll have to accept it 'cause the Dursleys didn't sign my permission slip," Harry said with a frown.
"What? Are you kidding me?" Ron asked, looking far more offended than Harry felt he really needed to be. If you were looking at him then you would have thought he was the one that had been denied the right to head down to the Hogsmead. The singular town near Hogwarts, it was, according to Hermione, the only all-Wizard settlement in Great Britain.
"There wasn't really time after I accidentally blew up Uncle Vernon's sister," she said blandly, "I'm just glad I didn't get arrested. I was so sure they were going to be after me I used Neville's name when I got on the Knight Bus."
"You're kidding," Ron snorted.
"Harry!" Hermione sounded utterly scandalized.
Harry blushed and shrugged. "Please don't mention it to him. I really shouldn't have," she said. If his Grandmother found out she was probably dead.
The conversation drifted from that point on and it wasn't until about mid-afternoon that their much more pleasant conversation about the summer, including what interesting things Hermione had encountered in France and some neat things Ron had seen in Egypt, was interrupted. The door rattled as someone tried to open it. It rattled a few more times, jiggling in its frame as someone fought with the spells Hermione had laid over it before they gave up.
"Want to bet that was Malfoy?" Ron said as Hermione stood up and peeked out.
"It was Malfoy and his goons," Hermione confirmed as she closed the door again, "So Harry, are you sure that was the Lady of the Lake?"
"You saw the sword," Harry replied, one hand going to the weapon tucked into her robes.
"I know, but it just seems odd that she would be in a lake under London of all places," Hermione sighed.
"There's been over fifteen hundred years since," Harry said, "A lot can happen in that time."
"Hmm, true but the Lady was said to be an Enchantress. Flamel was said to be the oldest living wizard and his wife was the oldest living witch," Hermione said, "It just makes the idea that someone so old exists hard to believe, Harry. And really, what were you thinking, pulling out a strange sword some random woman you had never met before asked you to touch?"
"She's got you there, mate. Blimey, I'm surprised you didn't end up like Ginny did last year," Ron said.
"It could still happen," Hermione noted, "For all you know, that sword was keeping her trapped there."
"It's a bit late to worry about that," Harry replied, huffing. She really should have begged off or something, or just sent an owl to Hermione or… no Hermione was in France and Ron was in Egypt. She could have sent one off to Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall. Maybe.
"I guess, but if she was telling the truth then this is amazing. All the books say that Camelot was destroyed at some point, but none of them really have any proof," she said, "If it's still out there to be found it could change everything."
"If that's true then what does that make Harry?" Ron grinned, "Does that mean you're a Princess Harry?"
She threw a cauldron cake at him.
"Ow." Ron ate the squashed cake, grinning as she glared at him.
"More like Queen, but only if we can find it. Which we should at least try to do. If she's not leading you on and really is who she says then finding it would be amazing," Hermione said, practically dancing in her seat.
"It would be," Harry agreed. Hogwarts was amazing as is, but she had to wonder what Camelot had been like. She glanced out the window. It had started to rain at some point and the weather didn't look to be getting better. It was looking pretty gloomy.
The rain got worse as the train hurried northward. Soon the windows were a solid, shimmering grey which gradually darkened until the lanterns flickered to life along the corridors and above the luggage racks. Had Harry been inclined to sleep rather than chat with her friends she suspected it would have been nearly impossible between the rattle of the train and the roaring winds.
"We must be nearly there," Ron said as he peered at the dark window. Even as he said it they could feel the train start to slow down. "Brilliant, I'm starved. I just want to go to the feast…"
"We can't be there yet," Hermione said, checking her watch.
"So why're we stopping?" Ron asked.
The train got slower and slower, the pumping and huffing of the pistons and the rattling of the train gave way to the roaring of the wind and rain against the windows. Hermione, the closest to the door, opened the compartment door and peered out into the hallway.
Then without warning the lamps went out, plunging them into darkness. Harry, who had been slumped in her seat let out a hiss as Ron stood up on her foot. "What's going on?" he asked Hermione.
"Ron!" She yanked her foot out from under his, sending him stumbling back into his chair. "That hurt you git!" She'd had her feet stepped on before by the Weasley, but somehow this hurt more than it had the year before.
Hermione dropped back into her seat.
"Do you think we've broken down?" Ron asked.
"Who knows," Harry shrugged.
Something squeaked and Harry made out the faint outline of Ron wiping a patch of glass clean. He peered out of the window.
"There's something moving out there," he said, "I think someone's coming aboard."
Harry leaned over to peer out beside Ron, but better sight or not she couldn't see anything out there. It must have already moved on. Hermione sighed. "I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," she said.
She stood up and the door slid open, only for there to be a thud and two loud squeals of pain. Two voices demanded, "Who's that?"
"Ginny?"
"Hermione?"
Ron and Harry shared a look and snorted. Harry produced her wand. "Lumos," she said. She frowned as the wand barely took hold of her magic. She pushed more into it and eventually the wand lit up. Harry looked worriedly at her wand. Had something happened to it over the summer? It didn't feel right in her hand anymore.
Hermione and Ginny extricated themselves from each other and took seats again. "What are you doing here?" Hermione asked Ginny.
"I was looking for Ron," she said, hissing as she rubbed her leg.
"What for?" Ron asked, his breath misting in the suddenly cold air. Ginny went to reply only for a scream down the corridor to cut her off.
Harry was the first out of her seat and out into the corridor. There, hovering in the doorway of a compartment near the front end of the train car, brightly lit in the glare of a half dozen wands was a cloaked figure that towered towards the ceiling. Its head was completely hidden by its hood. It was holding the door open with a hand, whose appearance turned Harry's stomach. It was glistening, grayish and slimy looking with scabs that stood out in the harsh wand light. It was like something that had died and decayed in the water.
The hood turned to Harry as she entered the corridor and it took a rattling breath that sent an intense chill through her, sinking deep into her bone. It sank deeper, reaching into her chest- Her free hand reflexively clenched her sword's hilt and with a gasp a surge of warmth flowed down her arm to meet the cold as it tried to burrow into her chest. She could hear screaming from the compartment and scowled. The air felt like something intrinsic was being pulled away leaving only a heartless void.
It released the door and turned towards her, taking another rattling breath that her sword warded off. It started floating towards her, whatever legs it might have had leaving the floor beneath the cloak.
Without thinking about the consequences Harry drew her blade. The moment it left the scabbard the lit wands became entirely superfluous as a bright pure light swept the corridor. The dread of the creature was driven before it, washing away as a warmth filled Harry and the lanterns closest to her relit. The creature shrieked and jerked away. Harry lunged after it. She had no idea what it was, but it was clearly a dark creature of some kind and a threat to everyone around.
It raised its scabbed arm, but the blade cut through without slowing down, only stopping when it thwapped into the door frame of a neighbouring compartment. A torrent of firefly-like lights burst forth from the bisected corpse as it caught flame in white fire and burned. They swarmed through the air, swirling around the many students who had stuck their heads out at the scream before diving into Harry's sword. Little sparks popped and sprayed about as each one joined the blade. Up and down the corridor lanterns flared back to life.
In the distance, up and down the train, four inhuman shrieks rang out.
Harry stared at her sword for a moment before jerking as Hermione placed a hand on her shoulder. "I think… I think you might have been right about the sword, Harry," she said unsteadily, staring at the spot where the creature had been moments before.
"What
was that?" Harry asked.
"De-de-dementor," An older student in Ravenclaw robes said from the door of a nearby compartment. He was staring at Harry with astonishment. "I- Did you just
kill it?!" he asked, his voice spiking several octaves.
"I think so?" she said as she wrenched it out of the woodwork and checked for damage. It was completely unharmed without so much as a spot upon it. "Why?" she asked.
At that moment a silver glowing wolf flowed through the back door of the train carriage and ran past them radiating warmth and happiness as it dashed through the next door and disappeared. Shrieks announced that whatever it was these things didn't seem to like it.
"That was a Patronus," the same boy said in disbelief, before shaking himself, "I'm just going to sit down now." He turned away and slammed the door shut behind him.
"Rude," Harry grumbled, "Hermione, you good?"
Her friend nodded. "I'm fine. You just ran out here!" Hermione said. The train shook and jerked lightly as it started moving again. "Come on." Hermione pulled her back into their compartment and shut the door. She promptly spelled it shut and closed the blinds again.
"Blimey, Harry, that was wicked," Ron said, staring at the sword.
"Where did you get that?" Ginny asked, wide-eyed and visibly starstruck.
"It's a bit complicated," Harry said, as she sheathed the sword and adjusted her robes to hide it better. Word had to have already started spreading knowing the speed of the Hogwarts rumour chain. She would bet there were spells specifically used for spreading rumours given how fast some people seemed to hear about things. "What is a dementor?"
"They're the guards of Azkaban, the Wizard's Prison," Hermione said.
"Yeah. Dad says they eat happiness," Ron said, "And they'll take your soul."
"Wasn't that where they sent Hagrid last year?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah, and he looked right terrible afterwards, didn't he?" Ron replied. "Dad's had to go there a few times in the past. He always came back looking terrible."
"Why was it here?" she asked.
"Probably looking for Black. Don't know why it would bother. Not like he's going to be hiding in the luggage, now is he?" Ron said
The rest of the journey was spent pointedly ignoring the occasional series of knocks on the door. They had managed to keep from mentioning that Harry was a girl in front of Ginny, but she had admitted to where she got the sword and the younger girl had basically gone silent staring at Harry with an uncomfortable amount of awestruck hero-worship.
It was with great relief that at last, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Stepping out into the hallway once the train came to a stop was a strange experience. Unlike the scramble she had been expecting she was able to walk down to the door and get off the train without any issue. The people in the compartments around her had parted as she'd walked the corridor, often ducking back into their compartments to let her pass.
"Nice work with the dementor, Potter," an older Hufflepuff student said as she passed. His entire compartment, which appeared to be sixth and seventh-year Hufflepuffs, chimed in with their own congratulations.
"Thanks?" she replied as she kept moving. Was killing a dementor such a big deal? Well, she supposed they wouldn't be used as guards if they were easy to deal with, but there had to be some way of keeping them in line, right?
Then again this was the wizarding world. Still, was it really that big a deal?
The rain hadn't let up even slightly as they stepped out into it. Harry belatedly flipped up her hood.
"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice from up the platform towards the engine. Hagrid, the groundskeeper of Hogwarts, towered over the crowd as he called for the, frankly terrified, first years for their traditional journey across the lake.
He spotted them. "All righ', you three?" he called to them. They waved back and managed to force their way through the crowd to him. Ginny disappeared towards a group of girls her own age.
"We're fine Hagrid," Hermione said, "Just a little shaken up from those dementors boarding the train."
"Ah, ruddy things, dey are. Ministry's got them stationed at all the gates to the school. Dumbledore won't let them any closer," Hagrid said with a grimace, undoubtedly remembering his own stay at Azkaban not long before. "They're on the lookout for Sirius Black, so you don't be given them reasons to do anythin'. Ya hear? They won' listen to pleadin'. It ain't their nature."
"We'll be careful Hagrid," Harry promised. She had a sword if they weren't.
"Good, now git going before y'ur out of coaches," he said, hustling them towards the line of stagecoaches by the station waiting for the students.
It was the first time Harry was using the stagecoaches to travel up to the school. The previous year they had stolen the Weasley family's flying car, which… she probably should replace now that she thought about it. The car was still roaming wild in the forest as far as she knew.
As far as first experiences went, she could do without the scent of mold and straw as they climbed into the coach. Harry sighed as the coach started moving. It trundled and swayed as it rolled up the path to Hogwarts.
The air grew cool as the stagecoach approached the magnificent wrought-iron gates, flanked by stone columns topped with winged boars. Harry placed a hand upon her sword's hilt and let out a sigh of relief as the warmth drove off the sensation of the dementors. "Horrible things," she said.
"I have no idea why anyone would want to use them to guard anything," Hermione said, scowling, "That sort of treatment constantly? It's no wonder half the prisoners in Azkaban go mad."
"Depends on how long you're there, as I hear it," Ron said, "I can't believe they sent Hagrid there last year." The groundskeeper was a good friend of theirs and the gentle giant of a man didn't deserve to have those things sucking out his happiness.
At last, the carriage swayed to a halt and they piled out onto the steps of Hogwarts Castle. Hurrying across the courtyard and into the Entrance Hall, Harry was happy to throw back her hood. The door to the Great Hall stood open to the right. She started towards it.
"There you are, Potter!" She turned to find Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway behind her. His long hair was soaked to his head. He looked a bit like a soaking wet dog. Crabbe and Goyle stood at his shoulders, hulking behind him like a pair of particularly ugly trolls.
"Malfoy, still haven't figured out how hoods work I see," she said. Ron snorted beside her. The blonde ponce went vaguely pink in the candlelight.
"There's rumours going around that you killed a Dementor," he said, sneering, "No one can kill a dementor. I bet you fainted and made that whole thing up to cover it."
Harry opened her mouth to tell him to shove off when a trio of hands clamped down on the three Slytherin's shoulders. A trio of Hufflepuffs she recognized from the compartment that had congratulated her loomed over the three Slytherins.
"Oh, so we're liars now, are we?" the seventh-year Hufflepuff said conversationally, a prefects badge visible on his chest, "Why don't you hurry up and stop blocking the door, Malfoy. People with more sense than pride would like to get out of the rain." The three third-years were hauled off by their shoulders towards the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff prefect nodded to Harry as they passed. "Thanks again, Potter."
"No problem?" she said as they went by. She turned to her friends. "Did that just happen?"
"You mean did Malfoy and his goons just get carried off by a bunch of Hufflepuff seventh-years?" Ron asked.
"Yeah."
"Eyup."
This year was going to be weird. "Let's go get seats, c'mon," Harry said, leading the way into the Great Hall. The moment they set foot into the Hall, barely enough time to see the black and cloudy enchanted ceiling, a voice called out.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger! I want to see you both!" The three turned, surprised to see Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration Teacher and Head of Gryffindor House, was calling for them over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. They fought their way through the crowd to her. Harry couldn't help a feeling of foreboding; Professor McGonagall had a way of making him feel like he had to have done something wrong.
"There's no need to look so worried -- I just want a word in my office, " she said, "Move along Weasley."
Ron was swept away by the crowd as Harry and Hermione were ushered away from the chattering crowd by Professor McGonagall. She led them across the entrance hall and up the marble staircase and along the corridor to her office.
Inside Professor McGonagall took a seat at her desk. "I have asked the two of you here to discuss your schedules," she said, "Ms. Granger, you have elected to take every single elective offered by Hogwarts. I am sorry to inform you that due to a lack of interest Alchemy will not be going forward this year. I can, however, offer a list of books in the library if you wish to make a self-study of it."
"Thank you, Professor."
She nodded. "There is another issue, one that I'm afraid due to the lateness of your request now applies to you as well Mr. Potter," she said. Hermione shot a curious glance at Harry. "I'm sure you can understand Ms. Granger that there are only so many hours in a day, and we must attempt to construct a schedule that allows our limited group of teachers to teach as many classes of adequate length as possible. As such, several of the classes you intend to take, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Divination, Healing and Muggle Studies all appear to be occurring at the same time as one of the other classes."
"Oh no," Hermione gasped.
"Mr. Potter, unfortunately, due to requesting to switch your classes mid-way through August, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures will be taking place at the same time," Professor McGonagall said.
"Do we have to choose then, Professor?" Harry asked. She had really wanted to take Care of Magical Creatures. After the last few years, it seemed like it would be really useful.
"That is one option, of course. In Ms. Granger's case it is the one I recommend, but if she insists on taking on such a heavy course load, there is an option," she said as she reached into her desk and produced two necklaces. Hanging from each necklace was an hourglass set inside of a gyroscope, both of which were made of gold. "These are two of Hogwarts' supply of time turners."
Harry's eyes went wide and she exchanged a look with Hermione. Time
turners. "Professor please tell me that the wizarding solution to an overly full schedule isn't
time travel," she asked. This was such a Wizard thing to do. Redesign a schedule? Of course not. Make students pick? Why bother? Just mess with time. It was absurd, and really she should have expected something… okay, no, no she probably could not have expected this.
McGonagall smiled slightly. "Ten points to Gryffindor for an astute observation," she said before grimacing. "There are, of course, a number of risks associated with the use of such devices." Hermione let out a squeak and was still staring at the two necklaces, an expression somewhere between horror and fascination on her face. "Each of these can turn back time in one-hour increments only, and no further back than five hours. You must not pass on future knowledge to your past self. Doing so has caused substantial damage in the past."
She cleared her throat. "Furthermore, the castle will be monitoring the use of such items. Should we have reason to believe that you are using them frivolously, we will take them back and force you to choose your courses."
"Professor, what would be considered frivolous?" Hermione asked.
"Using it for pranks, skirting rules, or other less-than-permitted actions. You may use it to take breaks and attend class. We in fact encourage you to take at least one break with the time turner every day to try and find time for yourselves as well," Professor McGonagall said.
"Professor," Harry said as a thought occurred to her, "If we use this, doesn't that mean we'll age faster?"
"Assuming you use it to its limit, you should age no more than an additional month physically each year you use it," Professor McGonagall replied, "That would be a total of five months assuming you use it for the next five years. Mr. Potter, it is unlikely that you will be required to do so for more than this year." Harry nodded.
"The use of these time turners is limited by their charms to school grounds only," Professor McGonagall said, "And finally, I need not explain that mentioning these items to anyone not using them other than the staff is not to happen. Do not share them with your friends or let them know that you have the ability to time travel. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Professor," they both chorused as they accepted the necklaces. Harry examined the necklace closely before slipping it on and hiding it in her shirt. Time travel, in order to attend a single class.
"Professor, what happens if we encounter ourselves?" Harry asked.
"Assuming you do nothing to hint at the future? Nothing. I know of one example where a wizard played chess against themself, shook hands, then time traveled back to play the other side," Professor McGonagall said, "But I would caution against being seen with yourself. Doing so will be difficult to explain to your classmates."
"Yes, Professor," they both said.
"Now, let's be off to the feast. Come along," Professor McGonagall said, ushering them out of her room.
"Thank you for asking that Harry," Hermione said, whispering to her as a blush formed.
"Why?"
"Because I was trying to figure out how to avoid even seeing myself to avoid a paradox," her friend replied, blushing hard.
"It's going to be hard enough not being seen with ourselves, and you wanted to add not seen by yourself to the list?" Harry sighed as they hurried down the stairs.
"Yes."
"Never change Hermione."
They entered the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat proclaimed, "SLYTHERIN!" A blonde girl ran towards the Slytherin table as they skirted the back of the hall.
"Oh, we missed the sorting," Hermione said as Professor Flitwick picked up the stool with the old grey sorting hat. It looked cleaner than the last time Harry had seen it, but she supposed someone hadn't liked such an important artifact being soaked in slime, dirty water, ink, and basilisk blood.
It took a moment to find Ron in the sea of pointed black hats that filled the Gryffindor table, but they managed it and dropped in on either side of him. Professor McGonagall strode up to take her place at the staff table.
"What was that all about?" Ron muttered as they sat down. Harry shook her head.
"Sorry, can't say," she apologized.
"Seriously?"
"Professor McGonagall was very strict about that, Ron," Hermione said. Their friend frowned and opened his mouth, only for the Headmaster to stand up.
Professor Dumbledor, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. His several-foot-long silver hair and beard were neatly groomed while his half-moon spectacles were perched upon a very crooked nose that had probably been broken several times over the years. He beamed at the student with a broad smile.
"Welcome," Dumbledore said, the candlelight shimmering across his beard and bright purple robes. "To another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"
He paused to clear his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, Our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic Business."
He paused, a displeased look on his face and Harry had to wonder how little he liked the idea of those things being around. If it weren't for her sword she'd have probably reacted a lot worse herself.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises -- or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."
A few seats down Percy puffed up again and stared around imperiously. Dumbledore paused again to look very seriously around the room.
"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause as a fairly young wizard in shabby robes with graying brown hair stood up. Harry suspected that he looked particularly less impressive due to the surrounding teachers wearing their best robes.
"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Harry's ear.
The Potions' Professor, Severus Snape, was staring along the table at Professor Lupin with an expression that Harry could describe as pure loathing. It was one she was very familiar with, he wore it every time he looked at her. This couldn't just be because Snape had lost out on the job he wanted yet again, was it?
"As to our second appointment," Dumbledore once again continued, "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."
The three stared at each other stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry leaned forward to see Hagrid who was ruby red in the face and busy staring down at his enormous hands. She could just see the hints of a wide grin buried in his black beard.
"We should've known," Ron roared, pounding the table, "Who else would have set us a biting book?"
The three were the last ones to stop clapping and as Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw Hagrid was wiping his eyes with the tablecloth.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore said, "Let the feast begin!" The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harry dug in, ravenous from the long trip.
The Hall echoed with talk, laughter and the clatter of knives and forks. It was a very delicious feast, as it always was, but Harry and her friends were more than eager to finish it so they could speak with Hagrid. When the last morsels were finally eaten, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for bed and the feast began to disperse.
The three of them scrambled from their seats and hurried over to the staff table. "Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed, as they reached the teachers' table.
"All down ter you three," Hagrid said, wiping his shiny face on his napkin. "Can' believe it… Great man Dumbledore… came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough… it's what I always wanted…" he sniffed and blew his nose with his napkin, making a honking noise. He wasn't particularly intelligible afterwards.
As their friend was overcome with emotion Professor McGonagall shooed them away and they joined the flow of Gryffindors heading upstairs. Tired from the long trip, they walked up and up and up yet more marble stairs until they reached the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The familiar portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?" as they approached.
"Coming through, coming through," Percy called from behind the crowd, "The new password's Fortuna Major!"
Stepping through the portrait hole into the common room Hermione pulled them both aside. "The moment of truth," she said to Harry.
"Really?" She rolled her eyes at her friend, "It'll be fine."
"Sure it will be. I'll see you in a few minutes then," Hermione said before heading up the steps to the girl's dormitory.
Harry rolled her eyes. "C'mon, let's go," she told Ron and started up the steps to the boy's dorm. They were a bit behind the rest of their year.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ron hissed, looking mildly uncomfortable.
"I'm still me."
"Yeah but-"
"Just shut up."
They reached the third-year dorm and entered only to nearly run into Neville Longbottom heading out. "Harry! I was just looking for you," he said urgently.
"What's wrong Neville?" she asked, stepping past him into the room.
"Your bed is missing."
-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: Hello~ I said there was more and here it is~ Alas, the plans of teenagers really don't last long against magic, do they?
Gekkou_Yoko: Not really, no. I'ma take this moment to announce my Birthday prezzy chapter of A Frozen Light, Early.
Grounders10: Don't I still have to write that second chapter of With Grace and Elegance?
Gekkou_Yoko: Yes, and a third chapter, for this Christmas.
Grounders10: … This has been prompted by that game we're playing, hasn't it?
Gekkou_Yoko: Both yes, and no. I usually request AFL chapters for my birthday, and WGaE, for Christmas.
Grounders10: *bows* Well everyone, we're getting a chapter of AFL then. For now however- *dives out of the window and books it down the street* FREEDOM FROM THE KEYBOARD!
Gekkou_Yoko: *chases after Grounders waving a new game around to play*
