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The Best Kings Wear Skirts

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What's this, a new Grounders fic? And one that gets my fuel injectors resonating? It's not more Floofy!Tay, but it'll work nicely.
 
I feel obligated to ask, are you going to touch the house elf slavery thing? Or the other problematic shit in harry potter?
 
theretrodragon said:
The antisemitism, the racism, stuff like that.
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Yeah, HP has a lot of stuff that's questionable at best. Some will be addressed, some will be fixed, and some of it is just beyond the character's scope to handle. This isn't a fix fic so much as its me setting loose a small cloud of butterflies into central park and placing bets on where the hurricanes are going to land.
 
Grounders10 said:
Yeah, HP has a lot of stuff that's questionable at best. Some will be addressed, some will be fixed, and some of it is just beyond the character's scope to handle. This isn't a fix fic so much as its me setting loose a small cloud of butterflies into central park and placing bets on where the hurricanes are going to land.
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That's completely fine. I'm not expecting every fanfic to fix the problems, I just want people to acknowledge that it is a problem. There's a huge difference between not fixing slavery and not acknowledging slavery is bad.
 
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Isiri Pudireach said:
Great, now I'm just imagining a muggle kid walking into the RoR and finding their very confused dad whom had "gone out for cigarettes" when they were a toddler
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In my own headcanon, the Room of Requirement is actually a Door of Requirement.

Instead of a single interior space which changes depending on the need of the person opening the door, there are multiple rooms, and the Door of Requirement connects to one room at a time.
 
BenGoldberg said:
Instead of a single interior space which changes depending on the need of the person opening the door, there are multiple rooms, and the Door of Requirement connects to one room at a time.
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That would make a lot of sense for some of the things it does in the original work, like having one consistent room where all of the trash is stored - if that room was being altered into something else every time someone showed up and wanted a bathroom (ahem, Dumbledore...) then where would it put all of the old junk and cursed artefacts, and why put them back in the same places every time?
 
poit123 said:
That would make a lot of sense for some of the things it does in the original work, like having one consistent room where all of the trash is stored - if that room was being altered into something else every time someone showed up and wanted a bathroom (ahem, Dumbledore...) then where would it put all of the old junk and cursed artefacts, and why put them back in the same places every time?
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Is there any magic in any of the novels which, in the movie version, made you say, "That's not how I imagined it?" If not, then the author probably chose to limit herself to magics which would work on the big screen.

The author's choice to have the Room of Hidden things appear the same any time any person summoned it was similar... if the book version of Room were different every time it was summoned, then the movie version of the Room would've needed to be repeatedly rearranged by stagehands or CGI.

There's a reason the inside of Hogwarts doesn't look like an MC Escher painting, and it's not a lack of magic.
 
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Chapter Two: First Days
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    A Harry Potter Fanfic

    The Best Kings Wear Skirts

    By: Grounders10

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    Chapter Two: First Days

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    "Your bed is missing," Neville said.

    Harry took two steps further into the room and glanced around. The spot where her bed should have been was conspicuously empty, as though it had been moved at the last moment. She turned to Ron. "Shit," she said.

    "Hermione told you," Ron replied, a vaguely amused hint to his tone.

    "Hey, Harry, what's with your bed?" Seamus Finnigan asked. The irish-born wizard was snacking on a box of every-flavour beans as though they hadn't just eaten their way through a literal feast. He tossed one back and promptly gagged, spitting it out onto the floor with a disgusted expression.

    "Seriously, did you get expelled between the Great Hall and here?" Dean asked, looking concerned.

    "Probably not, unless stabbing a dementor to death is against school rules," Harry replied.

    "You what?" Seamus coughed, "What did you just say?"

    "I'll explain later," she told him before grabbing Ron by the shoulder, "C'mon, let's find a prefect." They didn't have to go far as they nearly walked into Percy coming down the stairs.

    "Harry, Ronald, not in a hurry for bed?" he asked cheerfully.

    "Harry's bed is missing," Ron told him. Percy blinked.

    "That can't be right," he said, walking into the dorm room. "Where on earth is your bed?"

    "That's what I'd like to know," Harry replied, crossing her arms, "And my trunk."

    Percy scowled. "If this is someone's idea of a prank," he began.

    "When would they have done it? We just got here," Dean said, a point the Head Boy acknowledged.

    "Right, Ronald, you and the rest get some sleep. Harry, go downstairs and sit down for a few. I'm going to check if your bed wound up in another room in the tower before we go get Professor McGonagall," he said, "Shouldn't take more than a moment." With that he started back up the steps, poking his head into each room as he passed them.

    Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "I'm not that lucky, right?" she asked.

    He shook his head. "If your luck was money, you'd have less than me," he replied.

    She wished she could say he was wrong. "Right, sleep well guys. I'll be back later," she said before starting down the steps. She waved over her shoulder to them and quietly made her way back down to the common room. It was like walking to her execution. She wondered how much trouble she was going to be in for not mentioning that she was a girl now. Was it against school rules? Could she be expelled? How would the Dursley's handle being told to come and pick her up from the station? How was she going to explain that she was a girl now to them?

    Harry dropped into an overstuffed armchair in the empty common room with a sigh. She rubbed her face and yawned. She was going to be in so much trouble, again.

    "Potter, there you are." She looked up to find a female prefect she didn't recognize coming down from the girls dorm. Hermione was a few steps behind her. Her friend had one of her 'I told you so' looks on her face the moment she caught sight of Harry.

    "My bed is in the girls dorm, isn't it?" Harry asked, bringing the girl up short.

    "Yes it is, along with your trunk. Mind explaining?" she asked.

    "I have no idea. We've been looking for both. Percy Weasley is just checking the rest of the dorms," she said.

    "I'll go and let him know then. Stay here," the Prefect told him. She headed up the steps to the boys dorm and Hermione dropped into the chair beside Harry's.

    "You can say it."

    "Told you so."

    Harry sighed. "You did."

    "Well, look at it this way. You're probably not going to wind up in the girls' dorm tonight," Hermione said.

    "Oh?"

    "You're probably going to see Madam Pomfrey instead."

    Harry let her head hit the backrest and rubbed her face. "I thought I managed to avoid the hospital wing this time," she said.

    "You should have told them."

    "Stop with the 'I told you so's," Harry groaned.

    Thankfully for Harry, Percy returned with the female prefect in tow. "Perfect Goldrose tells me that your things are in the girls dorm," he said.

    "Apparently," Harry sighed.

    "We're going to go and inform Professor McGonagall about this. For now, wait here," he said, heading out the portrait hole with Perfect Goldrose.

    "I'm going to be in so much trouble," Harry moaned. Hermione got up and dropped into the chair with her, promptly a very unmanly squeak of surprise as the bushy-haired girl pulled her into a big hug.

    "It'll be fine Harry, you'll see," Hermione said.

    "Hermione?" a tentative voice called from the stairs. They both looked up to find a bunch of the girls in their year on the steps. Hermione hopped off the chair.

    "We're here," she said.

    Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Fay Dunbar entered the common room. "So? Why's Harry's stuff in our room?" Lavender asked.

    "We aren't sure," Hermione said.

    "Yes we are," Harry groaned, "I just figured that if I didn't tell anyone, the castle couldn't find out." She might as well be honest since there was no point trying to pretend that whatever or whomever was in charge of sorting students belongings hadn't seen right through her.

    The girls dropped into the couch. The two blonde girls, Lavender and Fay, sat on either side of the Indian girl Paravti. "Well?" Fay demanded.

    "I pulled a sword out of a stone and got turned into a girl as a consequence about three weeks ago," Harry said. The three stared at her. They exchanged looks.

    "Do you seriously expect us to believe that?" Fay asked. Lavender nodded beside her while Parvati simply looked curious.

    Harry stood up and reached into her robes and drew the sword. The steel shimmered in the firelight. "I have the sword right here," she said.

    "Oh wow, its so big," Lavender said, staring at it with wide eyes before abruptly going crimson and burying her face in her hands.

    "Really Lav?" Parvati giggled. She received a muffled reply that might have been 'shut up'. Harry looked at them with confusion.

    "Okay then, so you have a sword," Fay said, staring at it.

    "You should probably put that away before they get back," Hermione said, glancing pointedly at the portrait hole.

    Harry hastily sheathed the blade after giving a worried look at the entrance. "I used it on a Dementor on the trainnn… What are you doing?" she asked as Fay hopped off the couch and leaned in close, staring at Harry's face.

    "I didn't really notice before," the blonde girl said, "But your face has really changed."

    "Not that much," Hermione said.

    "Well, no, but if I wasn't expecting a boy I think I'd have thought girl, and your voice… and your scar is nearly gone," Fay said as she reached out to poke it with a finger

    Harry jerked away from it and scowled at her.

    "The hair really isn't helping," Parvati agreed with Fay who took a step back with a sheepish look.

    "Yeah, that's such a boy's style," Lavender said.

    "Because I'm supposed to be a guy?" Harry replied. Her eyes shifted from one girl to the other. All three had a gleam in their eyes that she couldn't recognize, but it seemed a bit predatory. Off to the side Hermione was watching her with the expression of one just happy it wasn't them.

    The portal, thankfully, chose that moment to open up, admitting Percy, Goldrose and Professor McGonagall. The stern woman, clad in a tartan robe, spotted them and strode over. "While I understand the urge to understand what is going on, most of you should be in bed," she said.

    "Sorry Professor McGonagall," the girls chorused.

    "Now, I suppose I should see this with my own eyes. Mr. Potter, please wait here for a moment," Professor McGonagall said.

    "Actually, Professor," Hermione said, "This might be simplest if Harry leads the way." All the girls looked at Hermione with confusion.

    "Ms. Granger, I'm not sure if you're aware about what happens when a young man walks up the stairs to the girls dormitories," Professor McGonagall said.

    "It turns into a slide. Which is why this is the easiest way to explain why Harry's things are in our dorm," Hermione said.

    Oh, oooh. By the looks of the other girl's faces they got her point as well.

    "Ms. Granger I fail to see how triggering the defense wards will explain anything," Professor McGonagall said. As she said it, Harry hopped out of her chair and walked over to the girls stairs and stepped onto them. When nothing happened she kept climbing and stopped just as she was about to go around the corner.

    "When is it supposed to trigger?" She called down. Everyone was staring at her.

    "Mr. Potter," McGonagall started, then stopped.

    "Harry, get down from there before it triggers and wakes everyone up," Percy said.

    "If it was going to it already would have," Prefect Goldrose said, "Professor, does this mean-"

    "It means that Harry's a girl," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

    Professor McGonagall looked to be at a complete loss of words for all of ten seconds, then her lips disappeared entirely. She pulled a wand and gestured in Harry's direction. Then again, and again. Her lips disappearing ever more with every swish.

    "Potter, with me. You are going to see Madam Pomfrey. Goldrose, put the rest of them to bed. I doubt… I doubt Ms. Potter is going to be back anytime soon. I imagine that Madam Pomfrey will want to keep… her, for observation tonight," she said, lowering the wand. Harry shuffled awkwardly on the step at being referred to as 'Ms. Potter'.

    "Yes, Professor," Goldrose said, hustling the group of third-year girls off the furniture and towards the stairs.

    "I can explain this," Harry said hastily. She really just wanted to get some sleep.

    "Yes, and you will. In the Hospital Wing," Professor McGonagall said, gesturing to the portrait hole. Harry grimaced. She hated going to the hospital wing.

    "I warned you," Hermione whispered with a sympathetic smile as they passed.

    "Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. The other girls hurried past, eying her curiously.

    "See you later Harry," Lavender said, patting her on the shoulder as she hurried by.

    Harry followed Professor McGonagall out of the portrait hole. "Of all the things, Potter," she said as they headed down the stairs, "I do not believe even your father managed to turn himself into a girl during his stay here."

    "I didn't do it here," Harry replied, "It happened over the summer."

    "And you didn't think to send us a letter? Did you at least visit St. Mungo's?" Professor McGonagall asked.

    "I don't even know where that is," she said, hopping over a false step reflexively. People kept mentioning St. Mungo's like she was supposed to know where that was.

    "Of course not. Come, let us get a proper opinion," Professor McGonagall said. Shortly after they were at the Hospital Wing and Harry was directed to sit on a nearby bed. "Poppy, are you awake?" she called.

    The door of the Hospital Wing's office swung open a moment later. "Awake and making a nightcap," Madam Pomfrey said as she entered the room. Then she spotted Harry. "Mr. Potter. Minerva, what could have possibly happened since dinner?" she demanded, striding over to Harry while whipping out her wand.

    "Mr. Potter is currently Ms. Potter," Professor McGonagall replied.

    Madam Pomfrey paused. "This would seem to be more of your area than my own," she said.

    "Except that Ms. Potter does not appear to be under any form of transfiguration," his Head of House replied.

    "A potion perhaps? What happened, exactly?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she waved her hand over Harry.

    Harry sighed. "Someone decided to use the protections my mother left behind, to heal me after an incident," she said, "It didn't go as planned."

    "What sort of incident, and what quack decided to do such a thing?" Madam Pomfrey demanded.

    Harry fidgeted, toying with her sleeves nervously.

    "Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said sternly.

    "It's complicated," Harry said. Oh god, where did she even start.

    "Minerva, it may be best if you get the Headmaster here while I give... Ms. Potter a proper examination seeing as all of my notes have just become invalid," Madam Pomfrey said.

    "You may have a point, Poppy. I will be back soon. Behave, Ms. Potter," she said before leaving.

    "She says that like I try to get into these situations," Harry complained.

    "You do have a habit, Ms. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. Harry sighed, she was going to have to get used to being a 'Ms.' now wasn't she? "Can you explain the potion I'm detecting in your system?"

    "That would be for my hair. It should wear off in a few days," Harry said.

    "Your hair?"

    "It's a hair-dying potion. It turned red after I was turned into a girl."

    As it turned out, that was the wrong thing to say as the Mediwitch soon handed her a foul-smelling purple potion to drink. Moments after consuming it -- it tasted a lot better than it smelled -- her scalp began to itch. Unfortunately, Harry found her hand swatted away when she tried to scratch it.

    The wand waving continued and she was soon forced to drink several more unpleasant potions that Madam Pomfrey said were standard for all girls to take while at Hogwarts. She grimaced at the thought that she was going to have to take more of them, but did so without complaint. She didn't like the implication that Madam Pomfrey wasn't expecting her to turn back into a guy anytime soon, but she had expected it.

    Eventually, the doors swung open again to admit Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore. Both paused upon seeing Harry before a familiar twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's eyes. "Ah, most interesting, Harry," he said, striding over to Harry's bedside, "How are things, Poppy?"

    "Confusing, Albus, very confusing. I see no signs of transfiguration, or potions, or curses, or anything that might explain why Mr. Potter is currently female," the Mediwitch replied, deeply frustrated, "By all measures I've been able to test, Mr. Potter is simply Ms. Potter, and always has been. Mr. Potter has claimed that someone did this to him using his mother's protections."

    "Not deliberately," Harry said, "I have the letter explaining things up in my trunk."

    "And you didn't think to send it in ahead of you, Ms. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked with an arched brown.

    Harry blushed and squirmed nervously. "I… Wasn't exactly where Minister Fudge told me to be," she admitted.

    The Scottish woman placed a hand to her forehead and muttered something as Dumbledore drew his wand and waved it over Harry, his eyes still sparkling with good humour. "And where were you, Harry?" he asked.

    "The Lakeshire Bank in Conceptu Alley," Harry replied.

    "Isn't that the Dwarven Bank?" Madam Pomfrey asked, "I didn't think they did business with Wizards."

    "It wasn't always that way," Dumbledore replied, "But they have still facilitated arrangements with their clients and Wizards on occasion." He paused his wand waving and peered over his half-moon spectacles at Harry before reaching up and brushing aside her bangs. "Look at this, Poppy," he said.

    "My word," the Mediwitch gasped, "It's healed over."

    "Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked.

    "How curious," Dumbledore mused, "I can confirm that Ms. Potter's protections appear to be stronger than ever before, which does help to confirm her identity." Harry blinked. Her? "Furthermore it would appear that any lingering magic in or around the scar is simply gone. Who did you say did this, Harry?"

    "I didn't, but it was Madam Lakeshire," Harry said. A look of comprehension passed over the old Headmaster's face before he chuckled.

    "Of course. Did she, perhaps, ask that you attempt to draw a certain sword while you were there?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Harry opened her outer robes to show the sword hilt. "You mean this one, Sir?" she asked cheekily. The flummoxed expression on his face would go down into her memory as one of those moments when she really wished Collin was around.

    "Ms. Potter, there are rules about bringing weapons into the school," Professor McGonagall said sternly, only to lose steam when Dumbledore held up a hand.

    "Peace, Minerva. There are rules, yes, but there are also exceptions. This is one of those," he said, "How many have you shown?"

    "Hermione, Ron, Lavender, Fay, Parvati, and the entire carriage on the train when I used it to kill a Dementor," she said. Both older women gasped and Madam Pomfrey immediately started waving her wand over Harry again with a concerned look. "I'm fine. It wasn't."

    "I had heard rumours," Dumbledore mused, running a hand down his beard, "It would be best if you tried to limit how many know about this sword, Harry. There are those that might attempt to steal such an item should they know it is no longer protected within its plinth."

    "... Yes, sir," Harry said with a grimace, "I think most of the school already knows something is up though. The speed of gossip, sir."

    "It is something impressive, is it not?" the old wizard chuckled, "Poppy, is there any reason to keep her here overnight? She will need to be up for classes tomorrow after all."

    The Mediwitch pursed her lips. "The issue is that I can find no issue, Albus. Mr. Potter appears to be a perfectly healthy thirteen-year-old girl. He has, in fact, fewer health problems than the last time I examined him at the end of last year. Numerous old injuries have seemingly vanished and he appears to no longer require glasses," she said, "Mr. Potter, how long ago did this happen?"

    "On the ninth last month," Harry said.

    "Closing in on a month now then," Madam Pomfrey said, "Albus, there is very little I could learn tonight that won't be served by Mr… Ms. Potter, coming in after class tomorrow. The only issue I see is where Ms. Potter is supposed to sleep."

    "In her bed, of course," Dumbledore said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

    "Albus, her bed is in the girl's dormitory," Professor McGonagall said, exasperation in her voice.

    "That it is. If the wards have deemed Ms. Potter to be mentally female enough to be permitted within the dormitory then I see no issue," the Headmaster replied.

    "Mentally what?" Harry asked, not sure how she felt about that. She wasn't a girl before.

    "The protections on the stairs don't rely upon a person's physical form to permit them entry, otherwise enterprising young men would simply transfigure themselves into women to enter the dormitory," he explained, "It relies upon a person's sense of self to determine if they are to be granted entry. There have been times when boys have been able to enter the dormitory because they are more female than male mentally. It is hardly common, but it has happened on occasion."

    Harry frowned. That sounded… She chewed her lip. "I guess?" She didn't feel that different from before. Could she have gone up the stairs before?

    Professor McGonagall sighed and looked at the time. "Very well. Very well. Poppy?"

    "You can take Ms. Potter to her bed, Minerva," the Mediwitch said, "But I want to see you here after class tomorrow, Ms. Potter."

    "Yes, Ma'am."

    "Come to my office after you're done, Minerva," Dumbledore said.

    "Of course, Albus. Come along, Ms. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, shuffling her out of the room and up towards Gryffindor Tower.

    The walk was done in silence until Professor McGonagall spoke the password, "Fortuna Major," and let Harry into the common room. "The third room on the right, Ms. Potter. I can trust you to behave?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

    She nodded quickly and promptly failed to hold back a yawn. "Yes, Professor," she said.

    "Then hurry to bed, and try not to disturb anyone." With that, her Head of House turned and left, leaving her in the Common Room.

    She looked at the stairs to the girl's dormitory, then to the boys and sighed before heading up the steps to the girl's dormitory. She hadn't even managed to hide this whole mess for more than an evening, and she was sure Dumbledore had more questions he wanted to ask. Though, he seemed to have an idea of who Madam Lakeshire really was. Perhaps he too had once been asked to try his hand with the sword?

    Knowing that she was just putting things off Harry sighed and climbed up the steps. The third door on the right was, despite the shape of the stairs, not the third door. By her own internal sense of space, the room she stopped at should have been the fourth-year boy's dorm, and yet it clearly didn't intersect.

    She hesitated at the door and awkwardly adjusted her robes. It felt wrong going into the girl's dorm. Harry took a deep breath. Was she or was she not a Gryffindor?

    The inside of the dorm was much like the boys. A ring of four-poster beds with red canopies and blinds surrounded by a few desks that were next to the room's central stove. The lights were off as she entered, but the moment she closed the door three lights turned on and blinds were slid open as the various girls stared at her.

    "Um… Hi?" she said nervously to the girls.

    Hermione stared at her from over a book at the other end of the room, having opened her blinds with her wand. "Your bed's over there, Harry," she said, pointing at the only one that hadn't had its blinds pulled shut, right next to her own.

    "Thanks," she said, awkwardly walking over to her bed and sitting down as the various girls continued to stare at her. She shuffled awkwardly.

    "So you've actually been turned into a girl then," Fay said, "Huh… Why is your hair red now?"

    "I like the colour, but that style is just way too short," Lavender said.

    "No kidding," Parvati agreed, "It would look way better if it was at least to her shoulders."

    Going as red as her hair, Harry said, "It turned red when I changed." She ran a hand through it. It was far too short for her to be able to see it, even if she could have made anything out in the dim room.

    "Right, well I'm just going to go to sleep," Fay sighed before sliding her blinds shut. Good nights were uttered and blinds closed until only Harry and Hermione were left.

    Hermione slipped a bookmark into her book and laid it down on the bed next to her, Harry recognized it as their Arithmancy textbook, before walking over to Harry's bed and sitting down next to her.

    "Don't say 'I told you so' again, please," Harry said softly so as not to be overheard by the others.

    "I wasn't going to," Hermione replied quietly, pulling her into a hug, "Did Madam Pomfrey have anything to suggest to fix this?"

    Harry shook her head. "According to her, I'm a 'perfectly healthy thirteen-year-old girl'," she said. Hermione bit her lip and nodded.

    "We'll find something," she promised.

    "Worst case I'm stuck as a girl for the rest of my time at Hogwarts. That… won't be so bad, right? Just being a girl instead of a boy," Harry said, not really believing her own words. They talked for a little while longer, Hermione attempting to reassure her that it was going to be fine before eventually she returned to her own bed. Harry pulled the curtains shut and lay down.

    She stared at the familiar canopy. It took a while before sleep claimed her, despite her tiredness.

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    The next day started with embarrassment, for Harry. When she'd woken up and reflexively opened her blinds she'd found the rest of her year in the process of getting changed and rapidly closed her blinds with an embarrassed squeak. Honestly, the squeak had been more embarrassing than anything else because for a moment she'd sounded just like Ginny Weasley did during the summer the year before.

    It had taken ten minutes for the girls to coax her out from behind her blinds and ended with Hermione physically dragging her over to the communal bathroom and shoving her in. A shower and a change of clothes that Hermione had dropped off from Harry's trunk later, she stepped out into the dorm and found the coterie of third-year girls chatting and waiting for her.

    "There you are. We were starting to think you were trying to drown yourself," Fay said.

    "Come on, we're going to be late," Hermione said, thrusting Harry's bag into her arms before taking her by the shoulders and steering her out of the room.

    "You didn't have to wait for me!" Harry said, her face still brilliantly red as she shrugged the heavy bag on. It looked like Hermione had filled it with literally every single one of Harry's textbooks, including the monster book given how the bag kept quivering every few seconds.

    "We felt like it," Lavender said, sliding up on Harry's other side. "Plus we wondered how you'd clean up."

    "Fairly decently apparently," Parvati said, poking Harry in the side. "You look better in the uniform, but you could do with a better hairstyle. Not that we can do much with it this short."

    "Not like I can lengthen it," Harry muttered. She didn't really want to either. Wasn't that supposed to be a lot of work if she did?

    "Hair growth potions exist," Lavender said, "And they're pretty simple. Didn't we learn one last year?"

    "I'm good," Harry said. She didn't need long hair. She didn't want long hair.

    "So," Parvati said, poking Harry in the side again, "Why are all of your non-school clothes several sizes too big? You've got these really nice robes and uniforms, and some very expensive underthings, and then everything else in your trunk looks like it was knitted for an elephant."

    Harry went pink again as she fended off Parvati's hand. "They're secondhand," she admitted, "They belonged to my cousin before and an elephant really isn't that far off."

    "I thought the Potters were rich. What're you doing wearing second-hand clothes?" Fay asked.

    "I live with my Aunt and Uncle and they're muggles and they don't like magic much," she said. The sounds of sympathy from the girls as they stepped off the stairs into the common room were strange. Most of the time she mentioned it she got an 'oh' and not much else.

    "Just because they don't like magic doesn't mean they have to be terrible to you," Lavender said, fuming, "We'll have to do something about that when Hogsmeade weekend rolls around."

    "Yeah! We'll take you to Gladrags," Parvati agreed.

    "Except I can't go to Hogsmeade because neither my Aunt or Uncle signed my permission slip," Harry said, causing the two girls to deflate.

    "That's not fair!" Lavender complained.

    They got a few odd looks from returning students as they passed through the common room and hurried down to the Great Hall. By the time they reached it, Lavender and Parvati were still fuming. Apparently forcing someone to be 'unfashionable' was quite the crime in Lavender's eyes and Parvati didn't seem to think much better.

    The weirdest part was that no one seemed to notice Harry as their group entered the Great Hall. They had a few heads turn their way, but most of them went back to whatever they were doing. It probably wasn't going to last once word about her turning into a girl spread about, but for the moment it was nice.

    "There's Ron. C'mon," Hermione hooked her arm and dragged her toward their friend who was sitting with the other three boys from Harry's old dorm. The girls in their year followed and the four boys stared as they were abruptly beset by a bunch of the girls in their year.

    "Hey," Harry said, taking a seat beside Ron. Hermione took the seat on the other side.

    "Who the hell are you?" Seamus asked between bites of a stack of pancakes.

    "That's Harry you berk," Ron said before turning to Harry, "And since when did you have red hair? You look like my sister now."

    "Thanks," she said dryly, "Since the ninth of last month. I mentioned it on the train, remember?" She ignored the mumbled 'oh right' from Ron. Apparently, the black hair had been a big part of why anyone had been able to 'recognize' her. "Pass the sausages Dean, I'm starving."

    "Harry turned into a girl at some point during the summer," Fay said, "The castle moved her bed to our dorm last night."

    "That's where it went?" Seamus coughed, "Blimey, that's tough Harry." Harry rolled her eyes while a few girls sent Seamus annoyed looks.

    "I'm fine," she muttered, digging into breakfast.

    Slowly, word began to spread up and down first the Gryffindor table then across to other tables. Heads turned her way. Some of them seemed to search in vain, other's managed to spot her bright red hair and not mistake her for a Weasley. At some point, the news reached the Slytherin table and raucous laughter broke out over there.

    As breakfast wound down, Professor McGonagall came around to hand out the schedules. "Girls, were there any issues last night?" she asked, looking from Harry to the rest of the dorm. To Harry's surprise, none of the girls complained about her being in the dorm.

    "No Professor," Fay said, "Everything was fine."

    "Professor, is it true that Harry can't go to Hogsmeade?" Lavender asked.

    Harry sighed. "Are you still on about that?"

    "It isn't fair!"

    "Unfortunately, without a signed slip the School cannot allow any student out of the castle without proper supervision," Professor McGonagall said, "Hogsmeade weekends have minimal supervision by design." The girls nodded, but both Lavender and Parvati looked mutinous. "That said, there is still time if you wish to send a letter to your Aunt and Uncle, Ms. Potter."

    "I don't think that would go over well given how we parted ways, Professor," she said. Uncle Vernon likely hadn't forgotten about his sister yet. It had only been a month.

    "Then I'm sorry, but you will not be able to go to Hogsmeade this year," Professor McGonagall said, giving her a sad smile, "I will see you all later then." She moved on and Harry took the opportunity to take a look at her timetable.

    "Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," Hermione said happily.

    "Hermione," said Ron with a frown as he looked over her shoulder, "They've messed up your timetable. Look -- they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."

    "I'll manage. I've fixed it with Professor McGonagall." Yes, by using time travel. Harry was still a little concerned about using it just for taking class, though it was cool.

    "But look," said Ron, laughing, "See this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock Muggle studies, and-" Ron leaned closer to the timetable disbelieving, "Look -- underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

    "Don't be silly," said Hermione shortly. "Of course, I won't be in three classes at once."

    "It's called self-study Ron," Harry said as she folded her own timetable and slipped it into her own bag. Hermione nodded.

    "Pass the marmalade, Ron," Hermione asked.

    Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and absently swinging a dead polecat in one enormous hand. "All righ'?" he asked then, pausing on the way to the staff table, "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready… hope it's OK.. me, a teacher… hones'ly…" He grinned broadly at them and headed off, still swinging the dead polecat.

    Harry leaned out to watch him leave as Ron asked, "Wonder what he's been getting ready?" There was a note of anxiety in his voice that Harry agreed with. Hagrid had been known to try and raise dragons in his wooden house by the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

    "Something with dead polecats by the looks of it," Fay said absently while glancing over her own timetable. She looked at her watch. "I need to get to Arithmancy. It'll take a few minutes to get there. Anyone else headed there?"

    Harry stuffed the last sausage into her mouth and waved as she shouldered her bag.

    "What? Since when?" Ron asked, looking confused.

    "Since I wrote Professor McGonagall to drop Divination in favour of something I'll actually be able to use," Harry said, "I have it on good authority I have zero talent for Divination." That was something she figured that the Lady of the Lake would be well qualified for determining.

    "And you're just going to leave me there alone?" he protested, looking quite offended.

    "Honestly, Ron. I'll be there as well," Hermione said, packing her own bag.

    "Yeah, and at Muggle Studies and Arithmancy," He grumbled, but grabbed his own bag and stuck a piece of toast in his mouth for the road.

    The group hurried out of the hall and soon split up, with only Fay and Harry continuing onto Arithmancy while the rest headed towards Divination. Harry paused to watch them go. "Not many people take Arithmancy I guess?" she asked Fay who shrugged.

    "Not in our house, anyway," she said. She frowned. "But isn't Hermione supposed to take the class as well?"

    "We spoke with Professor McGonagall about it before the feast yesterday. Don't worry about it," Harry told her.

    Fay shrugged and they hurried down the corridor to the Arithmancy classroom.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    To Harry's lack of surprise, they arrived at the classroom to find Hermione already sitting in the front row. Her hair looked particularly frazzled as she was laying out her things. A few Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and a trio of Hufflepuffs were already there as well. Of the Slytherins, she recognized Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Tracey Davis. None of them were particularly aggressive towards Gryffindors, so they probably wouldn't start anything.

    Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot were there as well, the two Hufflepuffs greeting her and Fay as they entered. She returned the greeting and headed over to Hermione. "That bad?" she asked, leaning down to whisper. Behind them, a few more people filtered into the room, mostly Ravenclaws.

    "She predicted Neville was going to die this year," Hermione whispered back, a twitch to her eyebrow.

    "She what?" Her friend gave a helpless shrug. "Did she say how?" Was she going to have to babysit Neville all year just in case?

    "Just that he was under some sort of fate or shadow or something. It's complete hogwash, I'm sure," she muttered.

    "Okay, how?" Fay had put her things down and was now standing beside Hermione's desk with a frown. "We just watched you head up to Divination."

    "Don't worry about it," Harry told her. Fay frowned. "McGonagall knows," she added. Fay sighed.

    "So this is what you meant by fixing things," Fay said to Hermione who shrugged, "Right, I'm not going to ask again." Shaking her head she took her seat.

    "That's risky," Hermione whispered. Harry rolled her eyes.

    "Like no one is going to notice," she whispered back, "You're in two classes at once, not even Ron is that thick."

    "Three. I've got Muggle Studies after this," her bushy-haired friend said.

    "Are you even going to have enough hours for the homework, even with this?" Harry asked her. Hermione nodded. "You better."

    She took her seat as Professor Septima Vector strode into the room. Her red robes stood out from the normal black that all the students had to wear. "Take your seats. If you have a wand out, please put it away," she said as she strode to the podium that sat on a raised dais in the corner of the room. "The Art of Arithmancy has little need for wands. We instead seek the secrets of the world through numbers and charts. We chart the future through probability and analyze the possibilities hidden from plain sight."

    She looked about the room with a neutral expression. "This will not be an easy or simple class. Arithmancy is challenging even for the most brilliant minds. If you find this art to your liking, you may find a use for it in predictions, warding, enchanting, or theoretical modeling. All of which open many unique and challenging careers for you in the future," she said, waving her wand to the chalkboard. A list of possible careers that might require or benefit from Arithmancy appeared on the board. Auror and Spellcrafter stood out to Harry.

    "Today," Professor Vector said, "we will begin with a test. This test will not affect your grade. Directly at least. What it will tell me is where each of you stands. Arithmetic education in our world is disturbingly inconsistent at times. In fact, the only ones amongst you I expect to be capable of much at all in this first month are those born or raised amongst Muggles. Can anyone not muggleborn or raised tell me why?"

    Harry glanced about, but no hands went up, though Hermione was practically vibrating in her seat.

    "Hmm, Ms. Potter, care to tell the class why?" Professor Vector asked after a minute went by.

    Surprised at being singled out with Hermione bouncing up and down in the seat next to her, Harry wracked her brain for an idea and said, "I- Well, everyone in the muggle world is taught mathematics from pretty much the moment they're enrolled in grade school."

    "Correct. Unfortunately, such uniformity of education is not common in our world, as such this first semester will be spent bringing all of you up to the level required. Yes, even those muggle born and raised. For you it will have been several years since you last had to deal with numbers, and we are more than likely going to be moving beyond what you learned previously in short order," she said, "Now, quills out, books away. It is time for the test. You may ask questions afterwards."

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    After class Hermione and Harry ducked out together, only telling Fay that they would see her in Transfiguration in a few minutes. "Oh, I hope I did well," Hermione said, chewing her lip as they ducked into a secret passage.

    "You probably did better than I did," Harry sighed, "It's been years since I even looked at math." It hadn't been too hard, but two years of not doing math had made her have to think a bit harder than she would have before.

    "I hope so," Hermione said. They both pulled out their time turners. Hermione looked at her quizzically. "You don't have another class at the moment."

    "I want a bit of time in the Library," Harry replied, "Need to look something up."

    "Oh. Yes, that might be a good idea, but Professor McGonagall said not to use the time turner frivolously," Hermione worried.

    "And she also said to use it to take breaks. Besides, I'm using it to study," Harry replied, "Sort of anyway. The Lady of the Lake recommended a few books for me to read here. I just need time to find them."

    "Oh, which books?" Hermione asked.

    "A bunch of safety manuals by the founders and a book by Nicholas Flamel. She said to… 'Read them, then take a walk around the library' or something like that," Harry said with a shrug.

    "Strange," Hermione frowned, "I can't say I've ever seen any books by the founders. You would think they'd be in a place of honour given who wrote them."

    "Who knows. See you at Transfiguration," Harry said, turning the Time Turner twice. There was a small jerk and the world blurred for a moment before coming back into focus. She was still in the secret passage which led down to the library. She took a moment to reset her watch back two hours, during which Hermione appeared beside her in an eye-watering twist of space that looked more painful than she had realized. With her watch reset Harry hurried down the passageway waving to Hermione as she went. It would be best to put some space between her and herself.

    She reached the library in a few minutes and hurried past Madam Pince who was busy with a stack of books behind the main counter. She dropped her bag at a table in the corner. Now where to start? She had a couple of hours before her next class, but where would the Wizarding World put safety manuals? The very idea of 'safety' often seemed to be ridiculous in the Wizarding World. Hell, she played a sport where rogue balls of wood and iron roamed the play area trying to concuss the players. She'd been hunted by a jinxed bludger a year before after the House Elf Dobby had set it on her in a misguided effort to 'keep her safe'.

    She walked from aisle to aisle trying to decide where to look. She passed a redheaded Gryffindor girl in one of the stacks. She paused, took two steps back and looked at the generously endowed redhead with short hair halfway up a ladder reading the titles of books as she slowly shimmied the ladder along the stack.

    Harry glanced down and saw Harry staring at her. "Hi me," she said, waving a hand. It was the first time Harry had heard her own voice since she had become a girl and for a moment she seriously had to wonder how anyone had thought she sounded like herself. Without the dyed black hair and baggy clothes there was no way she could have passed as a boy for very long. Wearing the proper uniform under her robes it was pretty clear that the her on the ladder made for a very pretty girl.

    "Hi… Hard to find?" she asked as she stared at herself. She could admit it, she made for a very cute looking girl, but it was still rather strange. She wasn't sure how to feel about looking… cute.

    "Hmm, maybe. Can't say, remember?" the older her replied, "Go start wherever you are going, alright? Better if we aren't spotted together."

    "Right, sorry," she said before catching herself. She was apologizing to herself. Merlin, this was weird.

    "Hi mes." Both Harrys turned to spot a third Harry that walked passed them and disappeared into another stack.

    "We're going to be here a while."

    "Apparently."

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    Two more uses of the time Turner later, Harry gave up her search and headed for Transfiguration class. She was hungry, but lunch wasn't going to be for a while. If only she knew where the kitchens were, but that was a secret the Weasley Twins hadn't seen fit to share with anyone yet. Or if they had, they hadn't shared it with the rest of the house.

    It was a very odd feeling to be the first person in the Transfiguration Classroom. Taking a seat in the front, Harry pulled out a book she had found during her search, Everyday Charms for Everyday People, and set about wasting a few minutes of time.

    "Ms. Potter," she looked up as Professor McGonagall entered the room.

    "Hello, Professor," she said.

    "Been busy at the library I see?" her Professor said, noting the book.

    "I found it while looking for something else. Figured it was worth a read," she said with a shrug. She had time now. Lots of extra time really and only one version of her could spend it say playing chess with Ron since the other redhead didn't have a time turner, which meant if she needed to spend an hour or two relaxing she needed something else to do.

    "Hmm, I would recommend Carman's Guide To Charms, by J. Carman personally," Professor McGonagall said.

    "I'll take a look after I'm done with this one then," Harry made a note of the name.

    Hermione arrived about then and took one of the seats next to Harry. "Hello, Professor McGonagall, Harry," she said, hastily pulling out her things. Her stomach growled loudly, only to be echoed by Harry's. Both of them went pink with embarrassment.

    "I take it neither of you took time to eat during the last few classes?" Professor McGonagall asked. They both shook their heads.

    "I'm not sure where the kitchen is," Harry said.

    "In the dungeons, there's a picture of a fruit bowl on the wall. Tickle the pear and ask the House Elves for something. They're always happy to help," Professor McGonagall said.

    "Hogwarts has House Elves?" Hermione asked, looking aghast.

    "Well, yes. It would be impossible to maintain a school the size of Hogwarts without them," Professor McGonagall said, "Hogwarts takes in any House Elf who needs a place to go who doesn't have a family."

    "Please tell me they're treated better than Dobby was," Harry said.

    "Dobby?"

    Harry explained her encounters with the House Elf Dobby the previous year and watched a stern frown appear on her teacher's face. "The House Elves here at Hogwarts are as well treated as they will allow themselves to be," Professor McGonagall said, "I can assure you that most families who have one treat their House Elves far better than the Malfoys, Ms. Potter."

    "As they allow themselves to be, Professor?" Hermione asked, a look of incomprehension on her face.

    Further conversation was put off as a very subdued group of students walked in. Ron dropped into the seat next to Harry. "Hey, Harry. Hello, Professor," he said looking down at his things before glancing at Hermione and doing a double take.

    "How did you get here first?" he asked, sounding confused.

    "Ms. Granger simply has a better sense of direction than you, Mr. Weasley. I would suggest learning the castle a bit better, the same goes for the rest of you," their Professor said, glancing about the room. "Ms. Granger, if you wish to know more I would suggest reading the book A History Of Elves And Their Culture, by P.R. Maverick."

    "Yes, Professor," Hermione said, hurriedly writing the name down.

    "Now," Professor McGonagall stepped up to the front of the room to address the class and begin that day's lecture, "Today we will begin our year with the topic of Animagi. Wizards and Witches who through several available processes learn the art of transfiguring themselves into an animal form while retaining their mind, and the ability to transform back again."

    What followed was a long, detailed, and quite interesting lecture that ended with Professor McGonagall transforming into a tabby cat. Harry clapped, the idea of being able to turn into an animal and back again was very wicked, but soon stopped when she realized no one else was. Hermione had been finishing her notes, but Ron and the rest of the class were completely out of it. Many of them were shooting grim glances at Neville.

    Professor McGonagall turned back with a small pop. "Really, what has gotten into you today?" she asked the class, "Not that it matters, but that has to be the least applause I've ever received from a class the first time I use my transformation."

    Everyone's eyes turned to Neville, but no one said anything. Hermione raised her hand. "Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination Class, and we were reading tea leaves and-"

    "Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, a look of understanding appearing on her face which swiftly transformed into a frown. "There is no need to say anymore, Ms. Granger. Tell me, which one of you will be dying this year?"

    Everyone, Harry included, stared at her deadpan delivery of the question.

    "M-me, Profess-sor," Neville said, shaking in his seat.

    "I see," she said as she fixed Neville with a look. "Then you should know, Mr. Longbottom, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues--" Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare and Professor Trelawney…"

    She stopped again. Then, in a very matter-of-fact tone said, "You look to be in excellent health Mr. Longbottoms, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

    Harry snorted and Hermione laughed. Neville looked a bit less down in the dumps as well. Lavender whispered something to Parvati in the back and both girls shot another terrified look towards the back of Neville's head. Harry suspected it was going to be all they could talk about come bedtime.

    If Harry was being honest, though, she was just glad it wasn't her for once. Maybe not taking Divination had been the right idea after all.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    Lunch saw Harry somehow sandwiched between Hermione and Fay. Ron was on the far side of Hermione and seemed to be fixating on Trelawney's prediction about Neville. Harry tried to tune out their argument as she answered a few questions Fay had from the Arithmancy test between spoonfuls of stew.

    "If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!" Hermione burst out loud enough to be heard halfway across the Great Hall before grabbing her bag and stalking away.

    Ron frowned after her before turning to Harry. "What's she talking about? She hasn't been to Arithmancy class yet," he said.

    Harry looked at Fay, then looked back at Ron. "Are you sure about that?" she asked.

    "Sure about it? I sat at the same table as her in Divination!" He replied.

    "Well, I wouldn't know anything about that. We had a test followed by an interesting lecture about the uses of numerology. It definitely sounds better than Divination," she said, trying to sound as separated from the issue as possible.

    Ron gave her a look like she'd lost her mind. He shook his head, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'girls' and stood up. She wasn't sure whether or not to be offended. She wasn't exactly supposed to be a girl after all. "We need to get to Care of Magical Creatures, c'mon," he said.

    "I'll meet you at class," Harry told Ron as she finished her stew, "Just need to use the washroom." Which, since she was a girl now, meant she was going to have to use the girl's washroom.

    "Uh- right, right, I'll see you there," Ron said after a moment. She watched him go.

    "You should get going," Fay said.

    "Hmm, maybe. I think I'll finish lunch and deal with Ancient Runes first," she replied, taking a bite of thoroughly stewed beef.

    "But that's at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures," the other girl pointed out.

    "Is it?"

    "... This is whatever you told me to not ask Hermione about before, isn't it?" Fay asked suspiciously.

    "Maybe."

    Fay stared at her intently. "Fine, have it your way," she sighed before standing up. "Ancient Runes is on the second floor. See you there. C'mon Parvati, we'll be late," she said, hooking the other girl by the arm as she stood up. Parvati was finished and busy chattering with an older Gryffindor girl Harry didn't recognize.

    "But-"

    "We'll be late," Fay said, rolling over her friend with practiced ease.

    Harry checked her watch, swallowed the last of her stew and bolted after them. Fay was right, they were about to be late if they didn't hurry.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    Ancient Runes was, as Harry discovered, quite interesting. The runes themselves were used in ministerial documentation for the Ministry of Magic, warding areas, performing rituals, and enchanting items. Even more interestingly, while Hogwarts itself primarily focused on Elder Futhark, a Nordic language, as its primary set of Runes, Professor Babbage Babbling was more than willing to suggest books to read to learn other similarly magical languages. Such as those used by the Egyptians (which were poorly understood, but useful for curse breakers).

    It was also looking to be every bit as complicated and time-consuming to study as Arithmancy.

    Still, Harry found it to be far more interesting than she had expected and all too soon it was over and she quickly grabbed Hermione after saying farewell to Parvati and Fay. "Let's go back to lunch, find the kitchen, and take a snack down to Hagrid," she suggested.

    Hermione stared at her and let out a yawn. "Harry, it's already been like… nine hours of this, maybe more, and you want to add lunch with Hagrid to it before Care of Magical Creatures? I still have to study later," she said.

    "Okay, so we go back five hours, go to the dorms and take a nap," Harry suggested, "Then go have lunch with Hagrid?"

    Hermione had a myriad of emotions cross her face. "Four. I don't want to ruin my ability to sleep tonight," she said finally.

    "Or we could just read in the library or literally anything while we wait for bedtime to line up properly," Harry said.

    "... This is really feeling like we're going to be overusing these," Hermione said.

    "If there was a problem with that Professor McGonagall would have told us. Besides, this is studying and Professor McGonagall didn't have an issue when I used it to study in the library this morning for… like six hours," she said.

    Hermione stared at her. "Why is it, that it takes time travel to get you to study on your own?" she asked faintly. Harry just gave her an offended look. She did too study on her own before.

    It just may have been in the same room as Hermione most of the time.

    Time was soon turned back, their watches reset, and they hurried for their beds while the previous versions of them were just entering Professor McGonagall's class. They slipped through the common room and into their beds. Alarms clocks, the mechanical kind, were set and they both crashed into bed after tossing their robes over their trunks.

    Three hours later the two of them were yawning and looking for a tickable pear on the wall. "I really don't like the idea of Hogwarts having House Elves," Hermione told Harry as they searched the area where Harry could vaguely remember seeing the painting Professor McGonagall had mentioned.

    "Dobby was… odd," Harry said, "I'm not sure he's really average for House Elves." It couldn't be common for House Elves to just decide to save people and do it so badly that they nearly killed the person they were trying to save.

    "Maybe…" Hermione huffed, "I'll have to find that book Professor McGonagall mentioned. This is far too much like slavery. It is slavery really." Harry said nothing as Hermione proceeded to ramble a bit. "There!" Hermione said, grabbing her by the arm. She dragged Harry over to a painting of a fruit bowl that conveniently had a pear in it. She tickled the pear and it giggled before transforming into a handle.

    The door swung open on a gigantic, high-ceilinged room. At the far end was a fireplace while along the walls were stoves and ovens and shelves with pots and pans. Five large tables identical to those in the Great Hall above filled the room. Though it all moved hundreds of small, long, floppy-eared figures wearing everything from bed sheets to pillowcases. Of those close to the door, Harry had to admit they looked to be in much better states than Dobby had been. Their pillowcases and bed sheets were clean after all and they looked to be in good spirits, as a song in a language that might have been Welsh went around the room.

    A few of the elves noticed the two of them and one stepped up. "Young Misses, it is being Lunch time soon. You should be going to the Great Hall," he said to them, wringing his hands.

    "We, um, already are actually. Which is why we need some food to go," Harry said, "If that isn't an issue? Just a snack to take down to Hagrid's." She exchanged a look with Hermione as the Elf's expression brightened.

    "We can do that, yes. Tippy! Pitt!" The elves sprang into action.

    "So?" Harry asked Hermione who was watching the entire scene with a confused look.

    "They're singing," she said.

    "Apparently."

    "You know slaves did that as well."

    "So did sailors."

    The two of them watched as a large picnic basket was thrown together and brought over. It was probably twice what they needed, but they could get Hagrid to eat a bunch of it. Probably.

    After thanking the Elves, who seemed quite embarrassed with the compliments, Harry carried it out. They circled the outside of the Entrance Hall to avoid anyone who knew them before ducking out the door to the sunny day beyond.

    They met Hagrid sorting a stack of dead polecats by his hut. "Haaagrid!" Harry called, waving to him with the basket.

    "Harry! Hermione! Where's Ron?" He asked as they got close.

    "Eating with us in the Great Hall at the moment I think," Harry said. Hagrid parsed that after a few moments.

    "Ah. Yeh got one dem. Right, I'll not mention yeh were here all lunch then," Hagrid said, "I was jus' prepin' for the class. Oh, it'll be a good 'un I think." He was grinning. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

    "Mind if we come in? We brought food," Hermione asked.

    "Right, c'mon in. Mind the mess, I ain't had much time to tidy recen'ly," the giant of a man said as he let them into his hut. Where they were promptly beset by Fang who licked them repeatedly before Hagrid pulled the large cowardly hound off of them.

    "I'd heard you 'ad an incident, Harry," Hagrid said as they settled down at the table, "Didn' know what to think about it. Turning inta a girl? Even yur father never managed that one." He chuckled. Harry went pink. "Don't be feeling too bad, Harry. Ye look just like yur mother now. Same face and build."

    Harry mumbled her thanks and started in on a large ham sandwich. She was sure she was blushing as she nibbled. Being complimented for looking like her mother felt odd. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not, though her mother had been rather pretty from her pictures so… It was a compliment, just… She wasn't sure she actually wanted compliments like it. Not that she didn't like being compared to her mother at all, she actually liked a bit the idea of having comparisons to her mother other than her eyes just… it felt weird. Like she was back in first year being told she looked like her dad again.

    "S' how're the two of you gettin' on wit' the book?" Hagrid asked as he unwrapped a large Reuben sandwich.

    "You mean the book full of teeth?" Harry asked.

    "Hmm, yeh, that's the one."

    "Hagrid, I don't think anyone's been able to get them open," Hermione said, fiddling with a chicken sandwich.

    "W'at?" Hagrid said with his mouth full. He swallowed. "What do yeh mean, can't get them open?"

    "They keep attacking us, Hagrid. We haven't been able to get them to stop without chaining them shut," Harry said, pulling her squirming copy out of her bag.

    Hagrid looked crestfallen as he took the book. "Blimey, Harry I- You just need ta' stroke them. Like this, see?" he demonstrated by running his finger along the spine of the book. It quivered and fell open in his hands.

    Hermione imitated him with her own book and stared, as it fell open easily.

    "Hagrid, um… I don't know how to say this, but most of us taking this class really don't know how to handle things that are this… hostile, yet. It's why we're taking the class," Harry said, feeling terrible as she said so.

    Hagrid handed her book back and took a big bite from his sandwich, looking thoughtful. "Aye, yeh have a point Harry," he said quietly after a moment, "S'pose I'd best start wit' the book then branch out."

    "Out of curiosity, Hagrid," Hermione asked, "What were you planning for today?"

    "Hmm? Ah um…" He hesitated.

    "We can't help if we don't know Hagrid," Harry said.

    Hagrid visibly debated for a long moment, taking so long as to take another bite of his sandwich. "I, s'pose it won't do no harm. I was going ta' start with Hippogriffs."

    "Hagrid!" Hermione groaned, nearly burying her head in her book before jerking back as it twitched. She frantically stroked its spine and it went still again.

    "What's a Hippogriff?" Harry asked.

    "It's a, erm… Half eagle, half horse, I think?" Hermione asked.

    "That's correct, Hermione," Hagrid said, "They're beauties, they are. Very friendly… Once ya know how tah handle 'em."

    Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. "Hagrid, how dangerous can they be?" Harry asked.

    "Well, if ye insult one, they'll try ter kill ya," Hagrid said after a moment. "Be polite and they'll not harm a hair. Easy ter deal with compared ta some things in the forest."

    "Hagrid, we're taking the class with the Slytherins. Someone is going to do something stupid if you give them a chance," Harry said, vaguely recalling her timetable. She could just see one of the Slytherins, possibly Crabbe or Malfoy or maybe Pansy Parkinson, mouthing off because they'd think it was funny and getting disembowelled for it. While little important would be lost, Hagrid would be in so much trouble.

    "I.. Erm, right… Didna think o' that…" Hagrid muttered, "S'pose the claws'll be a bit dangerous, an' the beak… Hrm…"

    "Maybe spend a class just talking about them, Hagrid? Maybe another one, running through how to handle them. Then let people approach?" Hermione suggested. There was no way they were going to convince Hagrid to just not bring violent creatures near them, it was half the point of the course after all.

    And this was Hagrid. He loved the beasts.

    "Ah, I'm sure it'll be fine if I jus' demonstrate a bit," Hagrid said.

    Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. "Hagrid, our arithmancy class today was just a test and a lecture. Professor Vector didn't even let us look at the arithmancy charts yet and probably won't for months," Hermione said.

    "And ancient runes was literally just a lecture on the uses of Runes," Harry said, "It's not a bad thing to just spend a class making sure someone," like the Slytherins, "understands what not to do. Safety's good, right?"

    Hagrid swallowed the last of his sandwich. "I… git yer point, Harry, Hermione," he said, "An I 'preciate yur concern. I'll think about it. We've still got a few min' 'till class. C'mon, let me show ya what I've prepared." Grabbing their sandwiches and books, Harry and Hermione followed Hagrid outside and around the hut.

    Tied up in a pen behind the hut, a pen Harry was certain hadn't been there before, were a dozen of the strangest animals she had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly-looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were tied to posts inside the pen.

    "'Ere they are," Hagrid said, "Beautiful, aren' they?" They were, from a certain point of view. Once she got past the shock of seeing a horse welded to an eagle, you could start to appreciate the Hippogriffs gleaming coats and the smooth way it changed from feathers to hair. Furthermore, each of them had a different colour. Stormy grey, bronze, a pinkish roan, a gleaming chestnut and an inky black.

    "They're gorgeous Hagrid," Hermione said, though she seemed to be eyeing them with a degree of wariness.

    "And those are some really big claws, Hagrid," Harry said.

    "Er, they are, ain' they? Ye might have a point, Harry," their friend said, patting his chin in awkward consideration.

    "I hate to say it, Hagrid, but I think Malfoy," Hermione said, "or one of his friends are going to try and ruin it for you."

    He grunted, but didn't disagree. "I'll keep an eye on 'em," he said, "Now, it's about class time. Let's go 'round front and wait for the rest."

    They were sitting on a pair of crates by Hagrid's door when the rest of their year came down the path. The Gryffindors were distinctly separated from the Sytherings who had clustered about Malfoy and his goons. Harry met the blond ponce's eyes over the heads of the leading students. He scowled at her and she sniffed and turned her head away to look for Ron.

    "C'mon, now, get a move on," Hagrid bellowed as he waved the class closer.

    The other redhead seemed rather confused as he reached them "What- You were still at the table," He said, giving Harry a confused look.

    She shrugged. "I ran," she told him. He frowned, but didn't challenge her. It didn't feel right not telling Ron, but Professor McGongall had insisted they not tell anyone so she wouldn't. Still didn't make it feel right.

    "That's it -- make sure you can see. Everyone got yur books?" Hagrid asked.

    "For all the good they are," Malfoy snidely remarked as he pulled out his copy which he had bound shut with a length of rope.

    "Well, firs' thing we're doing is teaching you how ta open yur books," Hagrid said, "Harry, do ya mind?" She handed him her copy and he held it up. "Now, firs' lesson of handlin' Magical Critters. They' all got habits and quirks. Little things ye can exploit. Like this book here." He turned it so they could all see the spine. "These beasties require stroking to make 'em docile. Like so." He undid the the clasp then ran a big finger along the spine of the book. It quivered and fell open. "There we go. Should stay docile fer a good hour at least, maybe two if yer lucky. Give it a try. C'mon, open your books to page 16."

    He handed the book back to Harry who watched as the rest of the class tried to open their books. Neville had to be saved from his book by Seamus after he failed to hold it shut long enough to stroke the spine. She hoped the couple of pages it lost weren't important.

    "Right, now as you can tell from yer book, today we'll be startin' with Hippogriffs. Proud creatures they are, and right beauties, but they kin be a bit dangerous, I'll admit. Which is why we'll be startin' with safety and handlin'. I'll be demonstratin' how to approach, handle and recognize when one of 'em decides it going to try an' gut you," he said, sending a wave of worry through the class. "Now, don' worry so much. I'll be the one handlin' them today. Now, wait right here while I bring one of 'em over."

    Hagrid turned and hurried off behind his hut. Hermione and Harry shared a look and sighed as one. He had listened.

    "First lesson huh?" Ron said, turnin' the book over in his hands, "That's a clever idea."

    Hermione politely covered a giggle. Neither of them was going to mention that Hagrid had originally picked them because they were 'funny'.

    "Gods this place is going to the dogs," Malfoy said, just loud enough his voice wouldn't carry around the hut. "That oaf teaching classes, my father will have a fit when I tell him--"

    "Oh shut up Malfoy," Harry said, just as loudly, "Your father isn't here to keep you from getting gored if you don't listen well enough." A few of the Gryffindor's around her giggled as she glared across the clearing at the Slytherin contingent.

    "Says the boy who decided to dress up like his mother," Draco replied, sneering, "What, couldn't find a dress, so you decided to just dye your hair?"

    "And badly too," Pansy added, giggling along with a few of the other Slytherin girls.

    A flash of anger surged through Harry and she was halfway through drawing her wand before Hermione caught her arm. "Harry, no," Her friend hissed while the Slytherins laughed.

    "One day," she muttered before letting go of her wand and ignoring the blond ponce. She hated Malfoy with a burning passion, but her eyes fixed on Pansy Parkinson who was shooting her a vicious smirk. She liked her hair colour, it reminded her of her mother.

    Further exchanges were prevented as Hagrid led a Hippogriff around the hut. "Now," he said as he tied it to a post, "This 'ere is Buckbeak, he'll be helpin' us wit' today's class. Get yer notebooks out, cause I'm not going to repeat myself if'n you don't hear."

    By the time they were making their way back up towards the castle Harry's temper had subsided. The class had been rather interesting, but Harry had the feeling she and Hermione were going to need to… check Hagrid's plans regularly. Otherwise, she just knew Malfoy was going to find a way to mess things up.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    Her check-up that afternoon turned up little beyond a recommendation from Madam Pomfrey to not overuse the Time Turner after Harry had mentioned her six-hour book-searching marathon. Her protest that Hermione had used it just as much for her classes hadn't produced any sympathy, though her decision to take a nap and get a snack had been praised as smart. Madam Pomfrey made her promise to return in a week for another check-up and sent her off.

    That night she had to spend an additional couple of hours turned back in order to realign her sleep to something reasonable. Sleep was just as awkward for her as the day before. The girls in her dorm had seemingly taken the whole thing in stride once it had been explained, but… Well, she couldn't help but wonder a bit as Lavender cornered Harry on her own bed and attacked her hair with a comb for over an hour if they weren't just weird.

    After Lavender gave up Parvati had made a go of it and had given up after a few minutes of work with a potion used for slicking down hair and a comb enchanted to lay hair smooth. It had probably been a bit immature, but Harry had felt fairly smug about how they failed to tame her hair any more than she had despite using so much more effort.

    "We'll just have to wait for it to grow longer," Lavender declared after she threw the comb into the wall in frustration.

    "If I grow it longer," Harry replied, turning away as Parvati started to prepare for bed.

    "You have lovely hair, Harry, but the short look really doesn't do it for you," Lavender said, crossing her arms,

    "And what if I don't want it to do something for me?" Harry asked, rolling over on her bed to grab her wand and charms book from the nightstand. They had charms the next day and she wanted to try a few small spells before going to sleep.

    "Then Pansy is never going to stop insulting you about it," Parvati said.

    "I don't care what she says," Harry huffed, "Malfoy is the pain in the ass, she's just annoying."

    "The best way to get someone to shut up about how you look is to look your best," Lavender said, "it makes them look like idiots when you show up looking amazing." She flopped onto her bed.

    "Have you already forgotten I'm supposed to be a guy?" Harry asked.

    "And that stops you from putting actual effort into your looks for once?" Lavender asked, "Ugh, it's not fair that you can't go to Hogsmeade. No one should be forced to go around in clothing that doesn't even remotely suit them." She made a disgusted sound and what sounded like her punching a pillow.

    Harry tuned her out and flicked her wand. She frowned as she felt something try to start, only to fail. She tried changing her wording and continued frowning as it felt like her wand was resisting her. "Lumos," She growled and with effort, the wand flared brightly.

    "Ack, Harry!" Hermione complained, rubbing her eyes.

    "Sorry. My wand isn't cooperating for some reason," she said, attempting to cast another spell that promptly failed to even leave her wand. "It's like I've turned into Neville," she complained. It wasn't the nicest thing she could say about her friend, but Neville's inability to work magic with his wand was famous for a reason.

    "How long has that been going on?" Fay asked as she walked out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel.

    "I dunno, since the train? It was working for me last year and I haven't used it since," Harry said.

    "You should talk to Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, "If there's an issue with your wand it'll affect your marks if you don't get it taken care of."

    Harry grimaced at her Holly and Phoenix Feather wand. It had served her well so far, but something had seemingly changed this year… Maybe the fact that she was a girl now. Maybe her wand was just sexist.

    "I'll ask Professor McGonagall in the morning," she said, setting it back down. Saying her good nights, she pulled her curtains closed and crashed to bed, thoroughly exhausted from the overly long day. The first of many as it turned out.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    The next day Harry managed to catch Professor McGonagall at the staff table during breakfast. She demonstrated her issue and her suspicions. Her Head of House sighed.

    "It is possible," the older woman said as she examined the wand, "Normally, we would have your parents or guardian take you into Diagon Alley to replace it." At Harry's grimace she continued, "However, Ms. Potter, you are correct that this is an issue. I will speak with the Headmaster and arrange a trip to Diagon Alley so you can see Ollivander about a new wand. At the same time, we can see about getting you a few proper things for a girl your age."

    Harry turned red under Professor McGonagall's judgemental stare. "Um… There's a place in Conceptu Alley I have an… obligation to visit?" she said.

    "Oh?"

    "I might have promised to let the lady there dress me when I wasn't trying to hide?" she said, phrasing it as a question.

    "Hmm, we will see, that may have to wait until next summer," Professor McGonagall said.

    "Yes Ma'am."

    Professor McGonagall paused. "Conceptu Alley, you said, Ms. Potter?" she asked, her voice odd.

    "Um, yes Ma'am. I'm invited to several of the stores there thanks to the Lakeshire Bank."

    The older woman nodded, before shaking her head. "I will consider it, Ms. Potter," she said, "If I receive permission, expect to spend Saturday shopping. Make sure to bring whatever you might need. Your Gringotts key for one."

    "That won't be needed, Professor. I have nearly nine hundred Gallons on me," Harry said, producing her pouch from Lakeshire Bank from her robes.

    "I- Ms. Potter, why do you have nine hundred Galleons on you?" Professor McGonagall asked with a stern look.

    "Because that was what was left after I went shopping for my school things?" Harry said with a confused look.

    "How much did you take out before that?"

    "The purse only holds a thousand, Professor," Harry said.

    "I see. I would hope you have been spending your inheritance wisely, Ms. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked with an arched brow.

    "This isn't from my trust vault. It's from Lakeshire Bank where… Well, this happened," she waved at herself.

    Understanding appeared in her teacher's eyes. "Payment for the incident?" she asked.

    Or not.

    Harry showed the sword hilt hanging from the inside of her robes. "Because of this, actually. They're still doing an audit of the vaults attached to it, but I've received ownership of quite a few and one of them has over eight hundred and thirty thousand galleons plus additional bars of gold and stuff and they said that the other vaults have even more metal and jewels and…. Professor?" she said, pausing at the wide-eyed expression.

    Professor McGonagall pushed back from the table. "Excuse me, Ms. Potter," she said, standing up, "I will let you know if we cannot go, otherwise meet me at my office on Saturday morning after breakfast. Now move along, you should have breakfast while you can." With that she left the table and hurried from the room.

    Harry turned to Professor Lupin who was seated next to Professor McGonagall and who was also staring at her, a slight slack to his jaw. She shifted uncomfortably. "Excuse me Professor," she said, quickly leaving the table. She could feel the eyes on the back of her head as she rushed over to the Gryffindor table.

    She dropped into a seat between Ron and Hermione. "I think I might be able to get a trip to Diagon Alley," she told them, "But it's going to be at the end of the week."

    "That sucks," Ron said, with sympathy in his voice. He'd spent the entire previous school year without a wand because his family hadn't been able to pay to replace it.

    "At least you'll get to go soon," Hermione said as she read a copy of their ancient runes textbook that she'd propped open against a pitcher of juice.

    "I guess. Fay, can you pass the bacon?", the other girl passed the platter and Harry took a big helping, before passing it along the table to the next person to call for it.

    Further words were cut off as a flurry of Owls came pouring into the Great Hall with the morning mail. A pair of owls, one a dirty brown, the other a snowy much like Hedwig, swept down over Harry and dropped their letters. She just barely stopped one from landing in the juice pitcher. The other landed on her bacon.

    She rolled her eyes and cleaned the bacon grease off both of them before freezing. The wax holding them shut bore the seal of the Ministry of Magic. Ron peered over her shoulder.

    "Blimey, that's the Ministry's seal, Harry," he said, breathing out with wide eyes.

    Eyes around the table turned to her and she could hear the whispers already spreading.

    "What do they say?" Hermione asked.

    Harry cracked open the one that landed in the bacon first. She read its contents once, twice, and then a third for good measure then looked up with confusion. "It's a letter from the 'Senior Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic' scolding me for killing one of their Dementors," she said.

    There was silence at the table. The Weasley twins leaned over.

    "Just scolding?" Fred asked.

    "Apparently killing them isn't illegal because of.." She glanced at the letter again, "the 'technicality' that they're registered as 'Dark Creatures Most Foul' but that I should avoid doing so again for as long as they're in the employ of the Ministry? Which is permanent apparently?"

    "I can't believe anyone would want to protect those things," Hermione said, her tone a bit shrill.

    "I can," Fay said, rolling her eyes, "The Ministry's a mess. I bet the other letter is praising the killing and the bounty for doing so."

    "I'll take that bet," Seamus said, "There's no way they can be that incompetent."

    "Ten Galleons?"

    "Do I look like I'm made of money?"

    "Fine. Ten Sickles?"

    "Deal."

    "What's all this going on here?" Percy walked over and peered over Harry's shoulder, "Harry, what is this about?" She handed over the first letter to the Head Boy.

    "The dementor on the train apparently," Harry said as she cracked the seal on the second. It felt significantly heavier than the first. There was something hard inside and she tipped the contents out onto the table. A large golden key, familiar to anyone who had a vault at Gringotts, landed on the table.

    Harry slipped it into her robes before unfolding the letter… and unfolding it… and unfolding it. After several feet she stopped. It didn't seem any thinner and she was starting to suspect it had some sort of space expansion charm on it.

    Dear, Miss Harry James Potter

    It has come to our attention that on the [1st of September 1993], you did in the presence of witnesses slay a [Dementor]. Upon further investigation, this was proven to be a permanent destruction that fulfills the requirements of the following bounties:

    Harry scanned the list and found herself unrolling the rest of the list. Apparently, a lot of people over the years had paid into the bounties applied to Dementors. A lot. Each one was listed with a name and a bounty value. Some were small, merely a few Galleons, while others counted into the thousands of Galleons. Finally, after nearly ten feet of parchment, she reached the bottom.

    As such the totality of these bounties has been added to an account in your name, after taxes. Simply provide the Goblins at Gringotts with your key and claim your reward. Should you kill more of these creatures in the future you will be eligible for the standing Ministry of Magic bounty of [1,500] Galleons [0] Sickles and [0] Knuts each. Your name has also been entered into contention for an Order of Merlin, First Class. Debate on the award will occur during the [Winter] Session of the Wizengamot.

    Your Regards,
    Amelia Bones
    Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

    P.S. Good work, Ms. Potter. ~ Amelia bones

    "That is a lot of names," Hermione said as Harry scanned the letter looking for a total amount. There wasn't one which meant she was going to have to either get it from the Goblins, or do the math herself.

    "So?" Fay prompted, eyeing Seamus with a toothy grin. The Irish-born wizard was sweating.

    "It's a bounty notice and a key for the vault," Harry said, showing the letter to Percy who seemed to be growing in disbelief.

    "Pay up!" Fay demanded.

    "At lunch. My money is upstairs," Seamus replied, grumbling.

    "Good Lord," Percy said, handing the letter back, "Well, this is- Good work Harry." He looked a bit overwhelmed for a moment.

    "Harry, that's- That's a lot of money," Ron said.

    "Does it even say how much it is, Ron?" Hermione asked, looking intently at the letter.

    "Hermione, funds like this have been around for centuries," Ron said, "They've been added to by thousands of people."

    The letter was also basically a ten-foot block of text written in a scale comparable to Hermione's writing.

    "This isn't just a lot of money. It's probably one of the largest standing bounties in Europe," Ron said, "Look, there's a few other Ministries listed here. That's the French one. That's the German one."

    "This one is the Holy Roman Empire," Hermione said, pointing to another section of text, "That's a muggle empire that's been defunct for centuries now."

    Harry sighed. Yet more money that she really didn't need, and apparently someone who was annoyed that she'd killed their pet demon. What a lovely way to start a morning.

    "What's this about an Order of Merlin?" Lavender asked, causing Harry to jump in her seat as she hadn't realized the brunette had appeared over her shoulder at some point.

    "Order of Merlin?" Ron and Hermione chorused, sharing looks before pulling up the bottom of the document. With any chance at finishing breakfast out the window, Harry resigned herself to backstepping an hour and eating in the kitchens before Charms.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    Thursday dawned with the least favourite of Harry's many classes, a double period of Potions with the Slytherins. Between the Slytherins and Professor Severus Snape, it was never a pleasant experience. Today, however, was just odd.

    Snape had never let an opportunity to make a snide remark at Harry slide. Until today. He hadn't said anything to her at all and barely looked at her as they worked on a shrinking solution. She just counted her blessings that the only thing she had to ignore was the occasional snide comment from Malfoy or Pansy.

    Neville, on the other hand, was having an even worse time than usual. Neville regularly struggled in Potions lessons, it was his worst subject and his, frankly justified, fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse. His potion, which was supposed to be a bright acidic green, was instead orange.

    By the time they left that class Harry was thankful that they were only down five points and not on their way to the hospital wing en-mass as had happened once or twice over the last couple years. The five points hadn't been from Neville failing, but due to the fact that Hermione had spent the latter half of the class whispering hurried corrections to Neville. Corrections that had only been needed since Snape had declared he was going to feed it to Neville's Toad at the end of the class. That Trevor was still fine was a testament to Hermione's skill more than Snape's teaching ability.

    "'Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!" Ron said. When their friend didn't respond they turned to look. "Where is she?" They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.

    Harry stifled a sigh. Someone had clearly used their time turner to duck the awkward conversation. "I'll see you at the table in a moment. I'm going to use the washroom," she told Ron.

    "Yeah, sure," he said, getting that same awkward look he'd kept getting everytime something reminded him she'd been turned into a girl.

    Once she cleared the Hall she found an out-of-the-way place and back stepped two hours. She doubted Hermione had gone further back than that. Once she was certain she hadn't just time-traveled in front of someone she hurried back to the Entrance Hall and walked over to the stairs down. She stopped at the top step and looked down the stairs.

    Looking back up only a few steps down from the top, was Hermione. She went bright red as Harry raised an eyebrow at her and said, "No frivolous use, huh?"

    "Oh shut up. I was planning on going to the library," Hermione grumbled, hiking her bag up her shoulder. Harry fell in with her. She could use a little Library time herself.

    "Before or after you dodged the awkward conversation using time travel?" The silence she received was answer enough. "Uh huh. You don't get to complain when I time travel for food or sleep then."

    Hermione was distinctly less bright red when they started making their way to the Great Hall later, after a side trip to the dormitory when Hermione's bag split open while they were packing to head to the Great Hall. They found Ron sitting with Dean and Seamus and dropped into seats that Fay had saved for them on the other side of the table.

    "Thanks, Fay," Harry said.

    "There you are. Where did you disappear to anyway?" Ron asked Hermione.

    "The washroom," she replied with a tone that suggested it should have been obvious. It even had the benefit of being true, technically. He grunted and returned to debating the differences between Quidditch and Football with Dean Thomas.

    "So what do you think our DADA class is going to be like, Harry?" Fay asked.

    "I don't know. I haven't heard anything from anyone who's had Professor Lupin so far," Harry replied, "I've caught him staring at me a few times though."

    "Oh not again," Hermione muttered.

    "Not again?" Fay asked, confused.

    "The last two DADA professors have tried to kill me at least once each," Harry said.

    Fay stared with a blank, open-mouthed expression. "I… had heard something about Quirrell," she admitted, "Something about a duel? But nothing about Lockheart."

    "It… wasn't a duel," Harry said, frowning at the memory of Quirrel burning away under her hands. She spent the rest of lunch regaling Fay with her adventures over the last couple years, Hermione chiming in on occasion. Ron did as well, but he was significantly more concerned with his debate than listening to their conversation on the other side of the table.

    Fay was a far better listener than most of the people in her year, but Harry couldn't help but feel that there was something off about Lunch that day. That night she placed it down to how little Ron had said when she was sharing their stories. He was normally a lot more enthusiastic about them.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    Their DADA lesson the next day started a bit odd. No sooner had the entire class sat down and pulled out their quills and parchment, then Professor Lupin entered the room. He smiled vaguely about the room and put his tattered briefcase on the table.

    "Good afternoon," he said, "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's lesson will be a practical lesson. You will only need your wand." Curious looks were exchanged by much of the class as they put away their things. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts class before, unless you counted the memorable class the previous year when Lockheart had let loose a cage full of pixies in the classroom.

    Once everyone was ready Professor Lupin said, "Right then, if you'd follow me."

    They followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around the corner, where floating upside-down in mid-air was Peeves the poltergeist. He was busy stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

    The poltergeist didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away, then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

    "Loony, loopy Lupin," he sang, "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin-"

    Harry couldn't help but stare. Peeves was rude and unmanageable at times, but he usually showed some level of respect towards the teachers. Everyone looked to Professor Lupin to see how he would take this. To their surprise, he was still smiling.

    "I'd take that gum out of the keyhole, if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly, "Mr. Filch won't be able to get into his brooms."

    Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker was poorly liked by the student body to put it mildly. A bad-tempered failed wizard, he waged an unceasing war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. The Poltergeist paid no mind to Professor Lupin as it blew a loud and wet raspberry.

    Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

    "This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder, "Please watch closely."

    He raised the wand to shoulder height and said "Waddiwasi!" and pointed at Peeves. With the force of a bullet the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and went straight down Peeve's left nostril. As the poltergeist cursed and bolted, spinning right side up as he did so, Harry considered the spell.

    "Cool, Sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

    Waddiwasi sounded like a variant of the 'Stolawasi' spell she had come across in Everyday Charms for Everyday People. That spell moved clothing around from one place to another. "Professor?" She raised her hand.

    "Yes, Harry?" he asked.

    "Is that similar to 'Stolawasi'?" she asked.

    "That it is, five points to Gryffindor for good observation," he said, "the Wasi family of spells are most commonly used to direct small to medium-sized objects from place to place. It lacks the speed and accuracy of a proper summoning spell and requires you to know roughly where the item you're moving is and that you can see its destination. As you can see, it can be easily adapted once you're used to the base concept to perform a variety of useful tasks. Case in point." He gestured down the hallway where Peeves had fled.

    Once they got moving Hermione paused by her side. "Where did you find that spell?" she whispered.

    "Everyday Charms for Everyday People," she whispered back.

    Fay, who was sticking close, whispered, "Can I borrow that book once you're done?"

    "There were a few copies in the Library you know," Harry replied, "I'll show you both later." Both girls looked excited at that. Beside them Ron rolled his eyes.

    "Inside, please," Professor Lupin said. They had come to a stop just outside the staff room door. The staff room, a long paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher, Snape and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and he had a nasty sneer upon his face.

    As Professor Lupin made to close the door behind them he said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." he got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway, he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

    Harry glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

    Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably." Neville, whose face had already gone red with embarrassment, went ever redder if it was possible. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

    "Now then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class towards the end of the room where there was nothing except an old wardrobe in which the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

    "Nothing to worry about, '' Professor Lupin said calmly, as a few people jumped backwards in alarm, "There's a Boggart in there." Many people, most in fact, seemed to feel this was something to worry about. Neville in particular gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

    "Boggarts," Professor Lupin explained, "like dark enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath the bed, the cupboards under sinks -- I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third-years some practice. So the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

    Hermione put up her hand.

    "It's a shape-shifter." she said once he pointed to her, "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

    "Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione practically glowed from the praise. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us fears most.

    "This means," Professor Lupin continued while choosing to ignore Neville's small splutter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage of the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

    Answering the question with Hermione bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air was quite off-putting, but Harry managed it. "Err… Because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

    "Precisely," Professor Lupin said and Hermione put her hand down looking a little disappointed. Fay shook her head on Hermione's other side and gave her a sidelong look that drew a confused one from Hermione.

    Lupin continued while the two girls had a silent, one-sided, conversation. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse, or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake -- it tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finished a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape you find amusing."

    He cleared his throat. "We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… riddikulus!"

    "Riddikulus!" said the class together. It was, Harry figured, rather ridiculous that such a spell existed in the first place, but she had long since learned that Wizards, and magic, tended to lack an understanding of irony.

    "Good, very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid," Professor Lupin said, "You see, the word is not enough. And this is where you come in Neville."

    The wardrobe shuddered, though it was shaking less than Neville was as he walked forwards. Back stiff and eyes wide he looked like someone who was being frog marched to the gallows.

    "Right, Nevile," said Professor Lupin, "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

    Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

    "Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin, seemingly oblivious to Neville's worry. Harry frowned.

    Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape." Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

    "Professor Snape… Hmmm…. Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

    "Er, yes," Neville said Nervously, "But I don't want the Boggart to turn into her, either."

    "No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling, "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

    Neville looked startled, but said, "Well… always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress… green, normally… and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

    "And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

    "A big red one," Neville said.

    Harry's eyes narrowed in thought. Was Professor Lupin suggesting what she thought he was? A teacher wouldn't encourage that sort of behavior about another normally, right? Not that Snape didn't have it coming.

    "Right then. Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville?" Professor Lupin asked Neville, "Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

    "Yes?" Neville asked uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.

    "When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin, "and you will raise your wand -- thus -- and cry 'Riddikulus' -- and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, that green dress, and that big red handbag."

    He was. Harry let out a snort of laughter that was echoed by the rest of the class. The wardrobe shook more violently.

    "If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to turn its attention on each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin, "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical. Ah, except Harry. I have heard about the issues with your wand. If you wouldn't mind staying at the back for now. For your safety."

    With an embarrassed blush, Harry was shuffled to the back of the room where she claimed a seat on the edge of the staff table so she could see over the heads of the rest of the class who pushed back to give Neville space. As she passed Ron she could hear him muttering, "Take its legs off. Take its legs off." She had no need to guess whether or not he was still afraid of spiders, especially after the encounter with the Acromantulas in the forest.

    "Everyone ready?" asked Professor Lupin.

    Harry sighed, feeling almost bored, and quite curious. She wasn't sure what she was afraid of the most. It might be Voldemort, but then again it could have been the Basilisk or the Acromantula, and yet while those encounters had been frightening, and the Basilisk had had her waking up in a cold sweat for a few weeks, she couldn't say that in hindsight she was particularly terrified of any of them. Scared, but they were hardly monolithic fears.

    "Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One -- Two -- Three -- Now!" A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. It burst open and, hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

    Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes. "R-r-riddikulus!" squeaked Neville.

    There was a noise like a whip-crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and swinging a huge crimson handbag from his hand.

    There was a roar of laughter. The Boggart paused, confused and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

    Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk towards her, very slowly dragging its feet, its stiff arms riding-

    "Riddikulus!" cried Parvati. A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet. In moments it became entangled and fell, face forwards and its head rolled off.

    After that it became a cycle, students stepping forward as others stepped back. The form of the Boggart changing more and more frequently, and making less and less sense as it went. From mummies and banshees to rattlesnakes to bloodied eyes staring about in confusion without an attached body.

    "It's confused!" shouted Lupin, "We're getting there. Dean!"

    It continued, cycling through a few more students before Ron was called forward. With a crack what had been a monstrous hand on the floor turned into a giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair. Even Harry was taken aback, and she had had to deal with far more than a single Acromantula the year before.

    Ron stood before it and for a moment she wondered if he'd frozen before he bellowed, "RIDDIKULUS!" and the spider's legs vanished. It tumbled sideways, rolling through the crowd of students that parted before it, only to close behind as people hurried to get back. Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way, leaving it to roll to a stop right by Harry's feet.

    Professor Lupin was stuck in the crowd of students as the creature transformed with a loud crack. It took a moment for Harry to understand what she was staring at. A tall, radiantly beautiful, red haired woman in a white wedding dress was standing with a handsome short-haired blond man in a very fancy-looking suit. It was quite a charming scene as the man was sliding a wedding ring onto her hand.

    Harry's hand.

    A feeling of horrified disgust welled up as she recognized the man as a much older Draco Malfoy. Her wand was in her hand before she could consciously understand what exactly she was feeling. "Riddikulus!" she shouted, forcing as much will and magic into the uncooperative piece of wood as she could.

    With a crack Older Harry clocked Draco Malfoy straight in the jaw hard enough everyone in the room could hear his jaw crack before kicking him in the crotch. Winces went around the boys in the room as Boggart Malfoy hit the ground.

    Harry grinned viciously.

    "Forward, Neville! Finish him off!" said Lupin, as the boggart continued beating itself up. Neville hurried forward out of the crowd and Harry backed off. With a sharp crack, Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

    "Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great, "HA!" of laughter and the Boggart exploded and burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and then was gone.

    "Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin, as the class broke into applause, "Excellent Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see.. Five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart -- ten for Neville because he did it twice -- and five to Hermione. Ten to Harry for both tackling it and answering my questions."

    Harry grinned as she tried to ignore her intense blush. Even if it hadn't been the real Malfoy, she did enjoy seeing him get punched and worse.

    "Excellent job everyone, well done indeed," Professor Lupin, "Homework. Kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me… to be handed in Monday. That will be all."

    Talking excitedly, the class left the staff room. Harry found herself mobbed by Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindor girls. "A wedding with Malfoy? Seriously, Harry?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

    "That's what that was?" Ron asked, guffawing. Harry sent him a frosted glare as her stomach twisted with disgust at the thought of that scene again.

    "I expected a lot of things, marriage was not one of them," Fay admitted.

    "I hadn't a single clue what was going to show up," Harry admitted, "At first I figured Voldemort," there was an intake of breath from everyone except Hermione and Ron, "or maybe the Basilisk or an Acromantula like Ron."

    "Please don't talk about that thing," he said, choking on his laughter.

    "And instead you got a wedding, with Malfoy," Fay said, covering her mouth to try and keep giggles from escaping. Lavender and Parvati didn't even try.

    "Only you could think Malfoy is worse than a Basilisk or Voldemort, Harry," Hermione said.

    "I'm not scared of Malfoy! When I realized it was him I nearly threw up on the spot. That's not terror, that's revulsion," Harry said, "And you don't get to talk miss 'killed, or worse, expelled.'" Hermione went pink as Harry tossed her words from two years earlier back at her.

    "'Or worse, expelled'?" Fay asked, looking at Hermione, who went even pinker, turning a distinct shade of red.

    "This was right after we nearly got eaten by a Cerberus," Harry said, crossing her arms.

    "Oh, be quiet. Like you've been less reckless in Quidditch," Hermione sniffed.

    "I still can't believe it turned into you and Malfoy at the altar," Lavender giggled, changing the conversation back on track to embarrass Harry.

    As she went to complain that Lavender was enjoying herself far too much, Harry's feet decided that it would be a great time to become tangled in each other. With an undignified "Eep" Harry went crashing to the floor.

    "You alright, Harry?" Fay asked.

    "Ow. Fine. Just, tired of being clumsy," she grumbled as she stood up, "My balance went straight to hell the day I changed and I thought I was over that after all of last month." She dusted herself off with a grumble. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd managed to overbalance and faceplant into something.

    Lavender patted her on the arm. "Seriously, though, what's with the altar? Are you scared of marriage, Harry?" she asked, giggling. Harry rolled her eyes at the persistent girl. While there was no way it wasn't happening, she prayed that Malfoy never heard of this.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    The school was abuzz through dinner with the rumours of what the Boggart had turned into. To her mortification someone had brought a wizarding camera to class and copies of the Boggart her and Malfoy getting married were making their rounds around the school. The only small bit of good news amongst it all was that Malfoy appeared to be as mortified by them as she was. Rumour had it he'd been horrified enough to lock himself in his dorm until dinner. She didn't quite believe that, but he hadn't been able to meet her eyes when they'd nearly run into each other at the door of the Great Hall.

    She'd squared her shoulder and walked past him without a word. He'd appeared at a loss of what to say as she tried to ignore his presence.

    After dinner, she'd retreated to the library after backstepping an hour to do some homework then hurried up to the common room. She regretted it quickly. Ron was still breaking down laughing every time he saw one of the pictures. There was a part of her that really wanted to set any and all copies of the pictures on fire, but it was overshadowed by both her lack of a cooperative wand (which seemed to have developed a crack in it near the tip after DADA), and the fact she didn't want to get in trouble for setting people on fire as well.

    She couldn't deny there was something tempting about the thought, however.

    As it was, she retreated to the girl's dorm after Seamus asked if the Boggart meant she was afraid of getting married, or just afraid of getting married to Malfoy.

    She crashed down on her bed in the empty dorm room and stared up at the ceiling of the four-poster bed. Her Boggart bothered her a lot. Why had the Boggart thought she would be scared of getting married to Draco Malfoy like others were of the undead or giant spiders? She'd faced Basilisks, Voldemort, and even a Dementor on the train. She could remember the terror the Dementor had exuded before she grabbed her sword and the fear of being chased through the chamber of secrets by a snake the size of a city bus. Those things should, by any reasonable metric, be more terrifying than getting married. Hell, the Basilisk could kill everyone in a room just by looking at them.

    So why did it pick a wedding with Malfoy?

    Crookshanks hopped up on her bed before settling on her chest. The flat-faced orange cat stared down at her imperiously. She started petting it absently. "Could it just not figure out what I was scared of?" she asked the cat, "I mean, I guess it's a bit of a multiple choice question, but what does a Wedding even represent as a fear?"

    Crookshanks licked her hand before curling up into a ball on her stomach.

    Maybe the Wedding was incidental to the rest? It had shown an older her, but then why not just an older her, or an older Malfoy, or… It wasn't like she could get married now anyways. Who would be interested in a boy turned into a girl? She sure as hell would never marry Malfoy. Even if he did become interested.

    She sneered. She'd sooner play chicken with a dragon than let Malfoy anywhere near her.

    So what did her Boggart represent?

    She went to sleep that night, still bothered by that question. Her dreams were strange and when she woke all she could say was it involved far too many wedding dresses.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    Harry met Professor McGonagall at her office the next day just after breakfast. She had her purse of Galleons and a spare book bag just in case.

    "Come in Ms. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, opening the door to her office as she arrived from the Great Hall, "We'll be traveling by Floo today. Have you used the Floo before?"

    "Three times, Professor. I don't really like it," Harry said, flushing in memory of her last couple of disasters using the Floo.

    Professor McGonagall's lips twitched with what looked like amusement. "Few particularly like the Floo, Ms. Potter, but it is the most reliable method of travel and usable by minors as well," she said. She showed Harry where the Floo Powder was on the mantle by her office's fire. "I will go first. We will be going to the Leaky Cauldron."

    A few moments and a very dizzy trip later, Harry was peeling herself off the floor of the Leaky Cauldron.

    "Are you alright, Ms. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.

    "I'm fine," she said, rubbing her head where she'd tapped a table leg. She was probably going to have a bruise there in the morning, but she'd taken far worse hits in Quidditch. She glanced about. The pub was lightly populated with what few there keeping mostly to themselves. A few eyes were staring at her.

    "Come along then," Professor McGonagall led the way through the back of the pub and out into Diagon Alley. The street was quiet, even quieter than it had been during the summer break. Only a handful of witches and wizards populated the streets.

    Professor McGonagall set a quick pace, leading her down and around the twists of the Alley to Ollivander's. A single wand sat on a faded purple pillow in the window.

    The inside was as neat and tidy as it had been two years prior. The same stool stood in the corner, though it looked a bit more worn around the edges, like it might have been set on fire once or twice since.

    A few moments after they entered Mr. Ollivander emerged from the back room. "Ah, Minerva, a pleasure," he said, eyeing Harry with an odd look. "Excuse me, young miss, but you look remarkably familiar. Have I sold you a wand before?"

    "This is Harry Potter, Garrick," Professor McGonagall said, "I'm afraid there was an incident this summer and we've recently discovered that she appears to be having some difficulties with her wand."

    "Ah, I see," he peered at Harry with a keen eye. "Holly, eleven inches with a phoenix feather core. Nice and supple if I recall."

    "That's right, sir," she said, drawing her wand from her pocket, "It's, um… not handled being used too well this week sir."

    He peered at it. "How peculiar," he murmured after a few moments, "When you try to use it, how does it feel?"

    "Like it's resisting me, sir," she said.

    "Hmmm, yes. How unusual, to lose the loyalty of a wand after being chosen by it," he said, "And it appears to have cracked. During the last week, I presume?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "I'm sorry to say that this wand is essentially unusable. While I'm certain someone could cast with it, there is a chance of it failing at any time. Possibly explosively," he said with a shake of his head, "And I had thought of this wand and its twin as some of my best work. A rejection like this does not occur often, Ms. Potter. Beyond your gender, has anything else changed?"

    Harry brushed aside her bangs to show the faded mark of her scar.

    Ollivander bent down and peered at her scar. "Ah, curious, very curious," he said before snapping his fingers and a tape measure lifted off a nearby table. Harry's eyes crossed as it started by taking a measurement of her nose.

    "You will need a new wand, I'm afraid," he said, handing the old Holly wand back to her, "I would advise against using it unless you have no choice, but it is yours to do with as you wish."

    "Thank you sir," she said.

    Professor McGonagall watched the proceedings with a passive look as Ollivander began the process of finding a wand. "Let us start with something similar," he said, pulling a wand down from the top of a shelf, "Holly, ten inches, with a dragon heartstring." The wand no sooner touched Harry's hand then Ollivander snatched it back. "No, no."

    Another box was pulled down and Harry tried an "Oak, eleven inches, Phoenix Feather" only for it to be snatched away just as quickly. A few more joined the pile of discarded boxes.

    "You are as tricky as ever, Ms. Potter," the wandmaker said as he paused to ponder, "Ah, one moment, Ms. Potter." He left the room and returned a few moments later with another wand. "Holly, eleven inches, unicorn hair freely given, nice and supple as well," he said, presenting it to her.

    A familiar, yet brighter, warm feeling swelled within her the moment she touched it and silver sparks sprayed from the tip.

    "Ah, how curious," Ollivander mused, sending a chill through her. The last time he had said that, it turned out the brother of her wand had belonged to Voldemort.

    "Do I want to know?" she asked cautiously.

    "I had the oddest feeling this last month," Ollivander said, peering down at her over his spectacles, "That there was something I needed to make. I spent hours looking for the correct woods, days preparing it, and only a few weeks ago received a single unicorn hair that had been, allegedly, freely given from a Unicorn mare in Wales, not far from Godric's Hollow. How interesting I feel that you would be the one to receive it, not even twenty-four hours after I finished it."

    "How peculiar," Professor McGonagall commented.

    "Peculiar indeed. You will find, Ms. Potter," Ollivander continued, "That your wand will be virtually incompatible with dark spells, but should make the casting of those like the Patronus charm significantly easier on you. It should also be particularly adept at charms and protective spells." He paused. "That will be eleven galleons and six sickles."

    "That's more expensive than the last one," Harry said.

    "Excluding the Phoenix Feather, the wands materials are much higher quality, and a freely given Unicorn Hair is at least as rare as a freely given phoenix feather," he said.

    "Ah." She turned the wand over in her hand. It fit well against her palm, more naturally than her old one had at least.

    "I think," Professor McGonagall said, "That Ms. Potter could also do with a wand holster and a wand care kit, given the condition of her last wand." Harry blushed hard. "She can certainly afford both."

    "Ah, let me see then. Eleven Galleons and six sickles for the wand, three sickles for the dragon leather holster, and one sickle and three knuts for the kit. That will be eleven Galleons, ten sickles, and three knuts, Ms. Potter," Ollivander said.

    The money was produced and Harry was soon shuffled out of the store with her new kit and a red dragonhide holster in her bag. She would figure out where to wear it later. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall," she said with a big smile.

    "You're most assuredly welcome, Ms. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "Now, I have been told by Headmaster Dumbledore that due to certain pieces of information that are likely to become public knowledge soon it would be best to take you into Conceptu Alley for clothes shopping."

    "... Certain knowledge, Professor?" Harry asked warily.

    "I'm afraid he would not elaborate," she replied, before waving for Harry to lead the way, "You, presumably, know where to go?"

    "Yes, Professor," she said, a pool of dread forming in her stomach.

    She led the way through the quiet Diagon Alley over to the even more quiet Conceptu Alley. The store in question was part of a larger Georgian-era structure. There were no signs out front to announce its presence, though it was sandwiched between a cobblers, which wasn't invitation only as far as she was aware, and a popular-looking cafe that had several of the street's guards sipping tea on its patio.

    A bell rang as they entered and Harry looked about. The interior was brightly lit by crystals in a low-hanging chandelier. A few chairs sat along the one-way window that showed the street outside and a greeting desk barred progress further inside beyond a door to the side.

    "I'll be there in a moment!" a female voice called from further inside. A few moments later a beautiful brunette witch in stylish black and silver robes appeared behind the desk. "Oh, Professor McGonagall and Harry Potter," she said upon seeing them, looking quite surprised.

    "Ms. Anders, it has been a few years now, hasn't it?" Professor McGonagal said, raising an eyebrow.

    "Nearly a decade. What brings you to my shop, Professor?" she asked.

    "I didn't last very long," Harry said, interjecting.

    "Ah. I did warn you. Girls as gifted as you've become can rarely hide their gender without resorting to transfiguration," the woman said, shaking her head as Harry felt her cheeks grow red again.

    "The school detected me, actually," Harry said, fidgeting with the chest of her robes. She still wasn't sure what to think about her new additions. They got in the way at times, stopped her from sleeping how she used to, and she was still trying to completely regain her balance after the change. She'd been lucky so far that she hadn't had a clutz moment again and tripped over her own feet on the stairs or in class.

    "It is one thing to fool people, another entirely to fool the school wards, I suppose," Ms. Anders said, "I presume you're here for clothing for Harry then?"

    "If you have the time. I understand if you do not," Professor McGonagall said.

    "And miss the opportunity to have my clothes worn by Harry Potter?" Ms. Anders laughed, her eyes gleaming, "Or more at least. I was just working on a long term project of mine. Please, come through and we'll get some measurements." She flicked her wand and the side door swung open.

    "Are we interested in full outfits, specific clothing ideas, or…?" She trailed off, glancing to Harry as they followed her into the back of the shop.

    "Um…" Harry really didn't know.

    "If you might prefer it, Ms. Potter, I can make a few suggestions," Professor McGonagall said gently.

    Harry swallowed, then nodded. "Please, Professor," she said.

    "Stand here," Ms. Anders indicated a raised platform, "Clothes off. You can keep your underwear on if you wish." Once Harry obeyed, feeling very self-conscious about it -- and chilly in the cold air -- a quill, inkwell, tape measure, and sheet of parchment came to life with a flick of the seamstress' wand. As they took measurements, the two older women launched into a discussion, of which Harry found herself completely out of her depth. She didn't know half the terminology they were using as they discussed patterns, styles, and colours.

    Harry tried to keep up, she really tried and by the end she had a long list of questions to maybe ask Lavender, maybe, if she ever really wanted to know. As it was, she was apparently getting a lot of clothes. Blouses, pants, and night clothes for the most part. A few school regulation skirts to go with her uniform (now that she was no longer pretending to still be a guy she was apparently required to wear the skirt, which she didn't have), and several different formal dresses. She wasn't exactly happy about that, but Professor McGonagall had insisted.

    "If I understand it correctly, your name has been put forward for an Order of Merlin, First Class," her Head of House said, "I will not have you dressed poorly for such an event, and you can afford others just in case other events should occur."

    Harry didn't want them, but on this she decided to just go along with it. Professor McGonagall was right, she could afford it, and if she really didn't want to wear them they could sit in the bottom of her trunk for the rest of the year. Possibly until she graduated.

    "This is quite a bit of work," Ms. Anders said, going over the list that she and Professor McGonagall had agreed upon, "I do have quite a few orders at the moment, but I can probably have it all delivered by the end of next month. Would you prefer it delivered all at once, or as portions are complete?"

    "As they are completed. Ms. Potter has a frightful lack of proper clothing, or so several of my students have assured me," Professor McGonagall said with a hint of amusement.

    "Lavender," Harry muttered. She saw Professor McGonagall's lip twitch upwards at the corner and sighed. That girl was going to drive her nuts.

    "As for payment…" Ms. Anders said. The number that followed made Harry very glad she had inherited a lot of money.

    They were out the door two hours later with a collection of clothes, enough for two outfits and the skirts for her uniform. She also received a reference for Harry to a Conceptu Alley shop that sold space-expanded trunks. A visit there saw Harry's name added to a three month long wait list, and then they were on their way back to Hogwarts, just in time for lunch.

    Quickly hurrying up to the dorms, she dropped off her purchases, and nearly walked into Fay as she was leaving the dorm.

    "Sorry," she said.

    "It's fine. What did you get for a new wand?" Fay asked as Harry tossed her bag onto her bed.

    Harry produced her new Wand. "Holly, like my old one," she said, "with a single freely given unicorn hair."

    "Freely given? I didn't think unicorn hairs were stolen," Fay said. Harry shrugged and twirled it about a finger. The two walked back down the steps to the common room.

    "They probably aren't, but can you call it freely given if you're taking them off tree branches?" Harry asked.

    "I suppose. Not something I really thought about though," Fay said, "C'mon, let's get lunch and you can show everyone else."

    They managed to find seats next to Hermione. Ron was once again embroiled in a 'debate' about the advantages of Quidditch. He probably would have been able to make a better argument if he didn't keep using the Chudley Cannons as his example.

    "So?" Hermione asked. The other girls in their year abandoned their meals to huddle around Harry, all curious. It was very strange to Harry. They'd mostly avoided him before.

    "Holly, eleven inches, just like my old one," Harry said as she produced the wand. A few of the girls oohed at it, "With a single, freely given, unicorn's hair." Judging by Hermione's gasp she got the significance. "Ollivander said it should be good for charm and protective spells and terrible for anything dark."

    "Well of course. It's not like you were going to be casting dark curses anyway," Hermione replied.

    "It's a nice looking wand as well," Lavender said, "Is there something inscribed on the handle?"

    Harry glanced at where Lavender was pointing. The handle did have an engraving around it. She peered at it closely. "It looks like Elder Futhark," she said, recalling some of the symbols from their ancient runes class.

    "Oooh," went several of the girls. Hermione pulled out her Ancient Runes textbook and started flipping through it.

    The cooing over her new wand, and questions about her new clothes, continued for the next few minutes before Hermione shooed them away so they could finish eating. Despite being about topics she had little interest in, Harry found herself grinning.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    "Leave my hair alone, Lavender!" Fay glanced up from her charms textbook to find her dormmates squaring off in front of Harry's bed. The redhead had her arms crossed as she glared at a comb and brush equipped unrepentant Lavender. As it was a weekend, Harry was wearing a red blouse with yellow decoration in keeping with their house's colours, a black vest and pants. Like all of the new things that had been trickling in over the last few weeks they were of subtly impressive high quality. Even as a pureblood Fay didn't want to imagine the cost of clothing that nice.

    "It's a mess," Lavender said, practically hissing.

    "Yeah, and it's my mess. My head, my hair. You've been attacking it for three weeks now! Leave. Me. Alone!" Harry stamped a foot and her hand twitched towards her other arm where Fay knew her wand was in its holster underneath her robe's sleeves.

    Deciding to head off the possibility of Harry actually cursing Lavender, which was admittedly unlikely since Harry still seemed to follow the boy's idea of not hitting girls, Fay said, "Leave her be, Lav. You've been badgering her for weeks."

    A comb was pointed in her direction like a sword. "Stay out of this! I will not be defeated by a rats nest!" Lavender barked.

    "Face it, you've been losing for three weeks!" Harry snapped, "My aunt spent ten years trying and failing to tame it. What makes you think you can do better?"

    "I have magic! And potions. Several potions. Those," Lavender pointed to her bed side where a trio of potions, newly arrived by owl that morning, sat.

    "And I don't care," Harry said, "Leave my head alone for one goddamned day!" With that the redhead turned on her heel and stormed out of the dormitory.

    Fay groaned. Loudly she said, "Way to go Lav, you're acting like a nut." With a bit of luck Harry would hear that.

    Lavender sent her an offended look before dropping onto her bed with a pout. "She'd look so nice if her hair would just behave," the brunette complained.

    "She already looks cuter than I do," Fay replied, turning half her attention back to her book. It was the honest truth. Harry was the shortest girl in their year, and had been seemingly blessed with all the classical signs of beauty. With her short hair she looked adorable, but with it long Fay didn't doubt that she would be in the running to be the most beautiful girl in not just their year, but the entire school. That is, if Harry actually learned how to take care of herself properly. While Fay could understand Lavender's frustration, they had to keep in mind that the redheaded girl had been born a boy and wanted to turn back.

    "She doesn't need you attacking her hair every day," Fay continued.

    "I do not attack her hair!"

    "You spend upwards of an hour every evening trying to make her hair behave. How much have you spent on this?" When Lavender didn't respond she looked up. Her friend was staring at the canopy of her bed. "Lav?"

    "... Five galleons, three sickles, four knuts."

    "Lav!"

    "What? I refuse to be beaten by a rat's nest!"

    Fay rested her head against the edge of her book. "You realize Harry's still a guy at heart, right?" she asked.

    Lavender snorted. "Which is why she listens to the rest of my fashion advice?"

    "Only when it comes to clothes. She still refuses to let you anywhere near her with that nail polish." Of course, Fay wouldn't let Lavender near her with nail polish either, but that was neither here nor there.

    "I'll convince her eventually." Lavender half sat up, leaning on her elbow, "And don't think I haven't seen you hanging out with her all the time, Fay. The two of you spent all of lunch yesterday giggling like a pair of pixies."

    Fay blushed. She wasn't a girl given to giggling normally, but she and Harry had stumbled across one of the Weasley twins pranks mid-incident and had a perfect view of one of the meaner Slytherin Prefects getting stuffed into a technicolor tutu that constantly showered sparkles everytime he moved. The music that had started playing a moment later had them both doubled over laughing. They hadn't been able to stop giggling until Professor Lupin called them on it during the middle of class. They'd been bad enough Hermione had rolled her eyes and chosen another table entirely. "You had to be there," she said.

    "Uh huh." Lavender didn't sound convinced.

    Fay rolled her eyes and closed her book. "I'm going to go finish studying in the common room," she said. She had six inches to finish for Charms.

    Lavender waved after her. "Have fun with your girlfriend," she teased. The middle finger she flicked over her shoulder sent the hyena into a giggle fit as Fay shut the door.

    Fay shook her head. Girlfriend? Hardly. Fay didn't swing that way, but she would admit that she was coming to see Harry as a friend. She felt a bit guilty about it, honestly. She'd basically ignored Harry as a guy, only to find that as a girl she was a good friend. Decisive, intelligent, witty at times, and adventurous enough to just jump into things when others would hold back. It was nice to have a girl in her own year that wasn't either glued to a book no matter what, or glued to a mirror like Narcissus. She was adventurous, and Fay found that they worked well together in class. Better than she ever had with Hermione or the others. Even Sally-Anne before she'd moved to the states part way through the previous year. Still, she needed to keep in mind that Harry was a guy at heart. Even if…

    No, just because Harry seemed to like wearing her new clothes didn't mean she liked being a girl. The former boy was probably just happy to have new clothing after wearing those hand-me-downs for so many years. Fay would have been much the same if the shoe had been on the other foot.

    She paused at the base of the steps and scanned the common room. There was Ron, playing Wizard's chess against some of the older boys, and winning as usual. Hermione had claimed an entire table in the corner to herself with a stack of books that may or may not have been relevant to her current assignment. Parvati was having her hair trimmed by one of the older girls in the corner that was reserved for such things.

    After a moment she spied Harry curled up at one end of a couch with another book from the library. She had a lot of those recently. She was making notes in a book. Seeing the other end of the couch empty Fay claimed it for herself.

    "Hey."

    "Got tired of Lavender?" Harry asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.

    "A bit. You know she means well."

    Harry grumbled something under her breath. "Jus' wish she'd stop it with the combs. I've lost hours to her just attacking my head with combs," she complained.

    Fay coughed, concealing a grin as the redhead pouted and leaned against her fist, pushing her cheek up and making the pout more pronounced. "Just because I've been turned into a girl doesn't mean I want to look like one."

    "Mhmm," Fay said, shaking her head a bit.

    "What?"

    "Nothing."

    Harry poked her with a toe. "Hey."

    "It's nothing, I swear." Harry didn't look convinced. Fay rolled her eyes. "Lavender thinks you're giggling like a girl," she said.

    "I do not."

    "She cites yesterday when you spent all of lunch and part of DADA giggling like a lunatic."

    "So did you!"

    "Yes, and I'm a girl." She had to cover her mouth to stop the giggles that wanted to form at Harry's utterly horrified expression.

    "Uh uh, no. I do not giggle like a girl," Harry said, shaking her head, vehemently.

    "Whatever you say," Fay said with a singsong, earning her another pout. Deciding to ease up she asked, "What're you reading?"

    "This? Corbin's Compendium of Competing Charms by Corbin C. Prince," Harry said, holding up the leather-bound book to show a gold leaf wand on its black cover encircled by the name.

    "Huh. Any good?"

    "No idea, I just started." Harry settled back into her seat and propped the book up so that all Fay could just barely see her eyes. Fay cracked her book open and got back to work on her homework. She paused to glance up at Harry, who was casually reading, then over at Hermione who seemed swamped by work. She seriously had to wonder how the boy famous for last minute work and procrastinating with Ron over a game or ten of Wizard's Chess had suddenly managed to always be the first to finish her homework. At times it was like she was done before anyone even had time to start.

    After a few minutes of contemplation Fay dropped that line of thought. It had to be whatever allowed her and Hermione to be in two classes at once, though the other girl seemed to have a lot more issues with her schedule for some reason. Then again, Harry never seemed to have the urge to write a new book every time a Professor asked for an essay.

    -0-0-0-0-0-​

    A/N: Hello everyone~ been nearly a month since the last bit and, well, time for more. I hope you've enjoyed chapter two. This has been a lot of fun to write and a bit of nostalgia since I've had to reference the book so many times just to keep track of what's changing and what isn't.

    To my patrons, thank you for your support again~

    If anyone wants to join us in my discord you can find the link in my signature. We try to keep a friendly SFW atmosphere. A nice chill place basically.

    Thank you to my lovely adorable editor-floof, Gekkou_Yoko once again~
     
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    • Awesome update as always.
    It's been interesting to see all the foreshadowing and hints of things to come. I look forward to the next update.
     
    An excellent chapter, I do like the butterfly effects from Harry becoming a girl, it is taking the story in a different direction but one wholly believable. It is interesting to see the struggle and changes Harry has to make, as well as slowly coming into herself. Especially given this is third year and everyone is still going through puberty, it will certainly be a wild and perhaps even terrifying ride. As for the Boggart, it poses a unique challenge for Harry simply to figure it out. I wonder what she will take from the encounter, and perhaps more importantly, what she will fail to take from it. I am looking forward to the next chapter whenever it may come!
     
    Grounders10 said:
    "Well, if ye insult one, they'll try ter kill ya," Hagrid said after a moment. "Be polite and they'll not harm a hair. Easy ter deal with compared ta some things in the forest."
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    "Hagrid, this is a class of thirteen-year-olds. They offend everybody. It's their nature."

    Grounders10 said:
    I would advise against using it unless you have no choice, but it is yours to do with as you wish."
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    "I would advise against using it unless you are trapped in a graveyard with Voldemort and need a plot device to defeat him."
     
    Grounders10 said:
    "The protections on the stairs don't rely upon a person's physical form to permit them entry, otherwise enterprising young men would simply transfigure themselves into women to enter the dormitory," he explained, "It relies upon a person's sense of self to determine if they are to be granted entry. There have been times when boys have been able to enter the dormitory because they are more female than male mentally. It is hardly common, but it has happened on occasion."

    Harry frowned. That sounded… She chewed her lip. "I guess?" She didn't feel that different from before. Could she have gone up the stairs before?
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    I appreciate that this was explicitly covered even if it's probably not going to sink in for Harry for quite a while.

    I admit I am curious about the boggart. My current theory is that perhaps it has to do with some intrinsic fear she holds with women being... second class citizens in (at least muggle) society and that she perhaps fears the lack of agency that women can experience? As in being married to Malfoy would essentially fold all of her resources and worth into his family and him?

    But that may be a bit too deep, and I admit I'm not entirely sold on it. Seeing her Aunt Petunia essentially just be nothing but a "good wife" to Vernon, and the type of "polite society" they view themselves to be a part of upholding that role for women could have reinforced such a fear in her, whether it's true or not in the rendition of the Wizarding World in this fic.

    (In canon it certainly... seems to be true, at least in the case of the Malfoys -- Narcissa falls into the background behind her husband, despite being a Black)

    I love love love the feelings she's getting being compared to her mother instead of her father now though. It is my drug in "Harry gets turned into a girl and looks like Lily" fics, of which there are sadly far too few.
     
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    Grounders10 said:
    There was a noise like a whip-crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and swinging a huge crimson handbag from his hand.

    There was a roar of laughter.
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    Grounders10 said:
    "Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great, "HA!" of laughter and the Boggart exploded and burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and then was gone.
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    Grounders10 said:
    she and Harry had stumbled across one of the Weasley twins pranks mid-incident and had a perfect view of one of the meaner Slytherin Prefects getting stuffed into a technicolor tutu that constantly showered sparkles everytime he moved.
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    Hmm.

    I know the "Snape in a dress" gag is from canon, but following it up with the tutu makes me wonder if "boy in a dress" is being set up as something of a problem for Harry in the future. The entire joke is about people not performing their gender "right," after all.
     
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