Disclaimer: Obviously my writing has gathered international acclaim. Really, no, I don't own the series Harry Potter or the things that you recognize. However, this plot is mine except where inspired by the amazing authoress Toki Mirage and her stories. I would like to give her credit and I do very much wish that Bloody Skies is not winding down. And… apologies for my rambling.
A.N. This deviates near the end of the second book, The Chambers of Secrets, and events spiral out of the cocoon of acquiesce that has been spun for Harry following the violent altercation of the basilisk and the phoenix.
In the Wake of Tragedy
Chapter 1- Desperation
0o0
Slowly, curling apart like a striking serpent, anger unfolds as horror rise.
"You can't do this!" He- she- screams, he- she now, gods, why does this happen to him?- rails at the injustice of the world, at that fucking bastard of a wizard.
Dumbledore. Always with the "Greater good" and his life-wreaking plans, never mind the minor creatures huddling before him as he carefully steps on them, destroying their lives, shattering their dreams, dictating their every fucking action-
With an inarticulate wail of anguish, Harry jerks forwards and sweeps his- her, can't forget that now- hands across that bastard's desk and reaches for his- her- magic. BurnTearDestory every single thing of his; howdarehedothistohim?
The magic flows out of his body and obeys him, too quickly, too fast, too uncontrolled and it obeys before turning back on him- her-, sending wild streaks of fire down his spine and he- she- blacks out.
0o0
Harry moans as he wakes, throbbing pain sometimes spiking and groggy eyes fluttering open and taking with rapid movements, his surroundings in. He was in the… medical wing? What had happened?
"Harry."
He turns slightly and looks at the headmaster, "professor?" Harry frowns at his raspy voice.
"Harry." Dumbledore repeats, for once looking his age. The energy that he is so well known for seems to have disappeared and it throws his features into harsh relief. There are heavy wrinkles etched in his forehead and a slump to his strong shoulders. And almost sorrow in his voice, "I am sorry."
"For what?" Bemused affection littered his words and the child tries to give the powerful wizard a smile with energy that he does not have.
But, if anything, the elder's spirits droops further, guilt and regret plaguing him. "You cannot stay in this school… I am truly sorry." Hesitantly he continues. "Go to the goblins; they will help you."
You cannot stay… cannot stay… these words haunt him, tickling his mind. They had to do with those lost memories because he could not remember anything after Dobby, but then, there are patches missing even before that, before dragging Ginny to Ron and the Phoenix bringing them up and… and... something. "What do you mean?" "Why don't I remember anything?" A hint of panic wriggles its way through him before it was washed away. Somewhere behind the fog that clouds his mind, suspicion forms, why is he not reacting to anything right now?
Dull emerald eyes took in the uncharacteristically subdued man before him, the solemn blue eyes and the frowning lips and a sneaking feeling of dread creeps up, somehow, Harry knows instinctively that nothing was going to be the same after what had apparently happened.
With an obvious struggle, Headmaster Dumbledore composes himself, "You were going into shock Ms. Potter. If it had been any longer, your magic channels would have been compromised. As it is, your wand disintegrated in the attack. We had to feed you a series of potions including one whose affects involved a slower integration of memory. Do not worry; they will come to you in time."
Harry feels sort of numb, blank as the Headmaster leaves. And Ms. Potter? He is a not-quite healthy male twelve year old thank you very much. Or at least, he was the last time he checked which was as early as Dobby and just before the loss of memories and no, how long has it been?
He has no idea how long it has been between the Headmaster leaving and Madame Pomfrey bustling in, delivering him a shock that quickly disappeared. "Ms. Potter! What are you doing lying down? All the students have left and are getting ready to return home!" She moved about hectically muttering admonishments beneath her breath while dragging this and that off the shelves and thrusting them in a trunk that oddly looks like his.
Harry blinked as he was manhandled into a new black robe that was without any distinctions. "Here is your trunk; I've taken the liberty to add the potions that you should be taking in it. Remember, one a day for the next week dear. Your body is still recovering and these should help it."
"Recovering? What happened?"
The medic clucked her tongue and looked at him pityingly. "We had to sedate you because you were attacking everything and everyone in sight, including yourself. I am not quite sure what happened but the Headmaster said that the shock of finding yourself a female was too much for you to handle."
A female? The thought runs through his- her?- head as he was pushed towards the exit and then gently lead to the awaiting train.
0o0
To go or not to go.
Ron and Hermione are right there, behind this door and arguing again. All she has to do is walk in and explain and everything will go back to normal.
Fogged eyes took in this oddly domestic scene. There are a couple of stray books, four stacked in a tidy pile at Hermione's feet and the fifth held in a loose grasp, open a third of the way in and so clearly abandoned by its owner. And typical Ron still had a couple crumbs from the last meal littering his robe.
"Get out of my way." A familiar voice drawled behind her and startled, she whirled around to face him.
"Oh!" A surprised exclamation lights up his face as Draco's eyes widen. Harry looks at him oddly when her rival- is he still her rival if he doesn't know who she is? - seems speechless. Was there something wrong with her appearance? Recovering quickly, though still oddly fixed on her, he greets her. "I haven't seen you around before. Are you a new student?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, and with some disbelieve at his civil attitude opens her mouth to answer only to be interrupted when the door that she had been looking at for quite some time slams open.
"Malfoy! A-"
"Ah, the Mudblood and the Weasel. Where is Potter? Has he finally realized what the right sort is?"
"Don't you dare say that Malfoy!"
Harry suddenly felt weary, so tired of these petty arguments and the general immaturity of the students and so quietly slipped away.
0o0
Harry sat alone in a compartment trying futilely to tame her hair. He, she, cannot think about what this means yet, this change of gender and all that implies. She knows that she will quietly breakdown and begin analyzing when she is in her little room in that house.
It will be like before the Wizarding world again. Before this madness and back to when she can rely only on herself. Back to when hysterics before others and shown emotions meant taunting and more pain.
But not now, not when she cannot even remember what happened.
So she turns her mind to frivolous things and… apparently now even after her gender change, her hair refuses to cooperate! It is currently a furious mess that tumbles down her back and pools in her lap- the ends sticking every which way and pricking her hand- they were like soft needles. She could not stop touching it or yanking it with frustration, a visible representation of what had changed in her and it was with a sort of morbid, self-destructive fascination that she keep imagining what her remaining blood family would do to her when she gets back to number four Privet Drive.
The trains toots, the announcement declaring the nearness of the station ends, and Harry is left frantically going through her trunk trying to find something Muggle to wear, obviously she doesn't have anything but the school clothes underneath the unassuming robe which technically could be counted as a fancy coat could work… she rolled her eyes and laughed at herself. Why hadn't she thought of that last year? It wouldn't matter anyways, people always gave her weird looks, Dudley's clothing which was not in the trunk attracted them. Perhaps the House elves thought that they were scraps?
She was amusing herself with thoughts of Dudley being used as a cleaning cloth, albeit, a very heavyset one when the last announcement came on. Harry quickly stuffed everything back into the trunk before the train could arrive at the station and attention caught by the potions, grabbed one to take before leaving the train. The empty vial clinked as it was thrust back into the trunk and Harry surged forward, trunk in one hand and the other reaching outwards to open the door.
It was when she was resting on her trunk against the wall of the station that Harry realized something was wrong. The fog that was in her mind in the medical wing before was back and the little sparks of emotions that grew more prominent as the train ride continued was gone.
Harry was never stupid or particularly clumsy or forgetful. To be those things often meant sharp pains of hunger and dark, cluttered nights and if she was especially unlucky, freezing porches and burning days spent outside without food.
Polished business shoes clanked in front of her.
"You" It was said with choking anxiety and when Harry looked up, she saw that Vernon's face is quickly on its way to exploding. "Get in the car and hurry up," the silent 'boy' that should have been tacked on to the sentence hung like the gallows between them.
Still feeling oddly acquiescent, she obediently treads after him.
Hard eyes shifted to the rearview mirror, "Petunia will take you shopping tomorrow to deal with this… freakish change. You will thank her and appreciate what we have done for you, you ungrateful brat!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry would have been genuinely surprised at the Dursley's off behavior if she could feel anything but compliance that is.
"Uncle Vernon, I am still injured from school and Madame Pomfrey requested that I continue to take some medicine that is in my trunk, may I keep that please?"
A heavy pause. And then a yes that looked physically painful to say was gritted out between clench teeth.
0o0
Harry lifted a slim pale finger, tracing it along the edge of the bathroom mirror. Aunt Petunia had pushed her into it immediately upon stepping in her house, which was odd because usually she would be locked up inside her room.
She couldn't recognize the person in it.
As a male, he knew that he could never amount to anything more than passable- certainly not Tom Riddle level at all. Harry was gawky and awkward with knobby knees- far too thin for a boy, too slim, never any muscles.
But this girl before her couldn't be her. This girl is beautiful with luminous emerald orbs and an almost tame jet mane framing high cheekbones. She was enchanting is a way that was otherworldly. Otherworldly… it sent a strum of something through her. This was before Ginny, one of those oddly placed missing patches. There was someone else there besides the two of them in that chamber.
There is something missing Harry realized with a start. She just couldn't place a finger on it. Something almost integral to her body, part of her identity. The Scar! It was gone! This final piece of information raked itself over her brain and with a low keen of pain, she collapsed, memories slamming the cage that they were kept in open.
0o0
Memories swam through her, teasing with little bits of information.
"We don't know what this will do to you Harry." The thrice damned twinkle in his eyes were gone and he was now an overbearing thing.
"The Phoenix tears, Basilisk poison and the Diary's 'blood' are all potent items- each alone are capable of changing the soul. I am regretful to tell you that you cannot return to the school next year or at least until you have mastered these things."
"Professor!" She had protested, "I feel fine if not a little tired. We can even explain the gender change as a side effect of a potion accident!"
He had sighed then, exhausted. What right did he have to be exhausted? She thought heatedly. "I am not going to lie to you, it is impossible that you remain unchanged by them. The Phoenix is calm, light, rarely angry but devastating when finally riled. It was one of these creatures that destroyed Atlantis. The Basilisk is quick to anger and could be just as powerful as a phoenix but its anger is easily assuaged- like all cold-blooded reptiles. They are opposites, Phoenix are light, the King of Birds; Basilisk are dark, the Queen of Serpents. They despise each other and yet, your body is not being torn apart by them."
"This means that you have accepted them. I do not know which you will turn out to be like but both do not bode well for the students."
"Before this change you have shown both these characteristics and your parents were not the kind figures that the Wizarding world has painted them to be. Lily was forgiving but only to a certain extent and she carries a grudge as long as memory itself. James… James was her direct opposite but he was petty and cruel sometimes."
The memory fluttered away and another wisp stretched before her.
"I won't hurt them Headmaster!"
"You cannot promise such a thing. Children are foolish as this year have proven. Perhaps some adults are just as foolish, they will rile you up and no matter how mature you act, I cannot prediction your actions."
"You said that I was more mature! I won't! I promise, please don't, can't leave Hogwarts, it's the only place I have every felt at home in! Please, I'll do anything!"
A sigh and then another.
"You do not have the scar anymore if you notice."
"That doesn't mean anything!"
There was a weary pause and an internal struggle that Dumbledore has obviously lost. "There was a prophecy before you were born. Two children candidates to defeat the Dark Lord. The scar was supposed to mark you as one and this is why your parents were targeted. I sent you to your remaining blood relative because that would activate your mother's protection."
"I have made many mistakes in my life Harry and I have tried so hard to fix them. You are perhaps my greatest regret after young Tom Riddle." A mournful gap. "Your scar faded, you are not the prophecy child anymore and I cannot risk the threat you would provide to the students. It is always about the Greater Good… I am sorry, whether you believe that or not Harry."
And then fury, fireworks of pain and a dearth of magic.
Numbness, sorrow, throbbing anger at her memories strike her as she woke with a gasp, jerking to sit up on the bed. For the first time since she was old enough to realize that she can only rely on herself, she cried.
0o0
They went through that store like a whirlwind grabbing the cheapest thing off the racks and then almost racing to the counter.
"Aunt Petunia, I am not going back to the School." Harry spoke carefully, she still wasn't sure about most of what had happen or what she will do after this but this she was sure of. Not even if Dumbledore begged her.
Petunia turned her head around and eyes her niece. Then she turns abruptly around again and drags Harry off the line and to the fitting room, throwing the clothing after her. "Here. Get the things that fit you." The words were brisk and tense and completely at odds with her new actions.
0o0
I will not demand any reviews because authors who do that annoy me but review are very appreciated! Please tell me what I can do to improve my writing and any mistakes that I may have had- I am not all that familiar with British customs so information about that will be wonderful as well.