HP fic based on a dream, and no idea if I'll have time to continue it. Let me know if you think I should.

Genderfluid Harry, Slytherin Harry, complete reworking of the Hogwarts school system, complete reworking of the Wizard Legal system. Trauma, death, original characters, cameos of other characters, prejudice, sexism. (The usual for an HP fic.)

Oh, also: scar that looks like actual lightning instead of a stylized bolt.

"I won't have it! I won't! That- that freak here, tainting our son!"

"What if they're watching us?"

"Let them watch! First thing in the morning, before work, I'm taking it to an orphanage!"

Petunia Dursley nodded tightly before heading off to check on her own son, sending one last venomous look at the basket with the sleeping infant.

Vernon Dursley got up earlier than ever that day, the stairs groaning under his feet in protest as he descended and walked into the kitchen for the basket with the squirming baby. He scowled down at the wriggling child, shaking the basket scoldingly. "Now you be quiet, you little burden. I'll have none of your freakishness here."

No one else in the neighborhood was awake yet, and Vernon willingly skipped breakfast to shuffle himself and the tiny wretch he was holding into the car. He went well out of his way to find the orphanage furthest from the house he could get to that wouldn't make him late to work. The sun had barely risen when he opened a wrought iron gate, cursing softly as the rusted metal caught on his suit and delayed him. He set the basket on the front step, the baby inside beginning to whimper in earnest after being ignored for an entire night.

With no doorbell and time pressing on him ever harder, Vernon backed away as the infant's mouth opened and he began to cry. Loud and distressed, the wailing broke the fragile silence of the morning and Vernon fled, closing the gate behind him and retreating to his car. At just after dawn the day after his parents had died, Harry Potter's uncle left him on the doorstep of an orphanage as he drove away, never looking back.

Isria Commings woke to the sound of a baby crying its lungs out. Jerking upright and sleepily stuffing her feet into her house slippers, she motioned her waking husband to go back to sleep. She yawned as she checked the nursery, frowning when none of the children made a peep.

More awake and with dawning realization, she turned from the room and headed downstairs, following the sound of the wailing. With a familiar sinking feeling, she opened the front door and found a basket on the stoop, a squalling, desperately squirming bundle inside.

Isria sighed and knelt down to scoop the child up, holding the babe to her chest and shushing it- him, if the blue blanket meant anything. Tiny hands that had wriggled free from the swaddling waved until they touched her shirt before closing, clinging desperately. Isria felt her heart melt as the babe's desolate wails trailed off into quiet whimpering. She smiled at the small thing and, even with tears in the strikingly vivid green eyes, the baby smiled back, copying her.

With the child tucked into the crook of one arm, Isria grabbed the basket with her free hand and carried both inside, closing the door behind her with her foot. She shushed the baby, upper body rocking slightly in a soothing motion she had practiced many times since she'd first opened her home to unlucky children. A quick, practiced change showed that the new little one was indeed a boy. On the opposite side of the basket she'd set on the dining table, she paused, a pop of color catching her eye from the folds of the blue material. On one corner of the blanket, in warm gold thread, were the initials HJP.

The babe was quiet at last, safe and warm in her arms. Isria idly watched the sun rising with the new baby.

"Matron?"

Isria turned to the doorway with a smile. "Good morning, early bird."

Michelle limped to the table, blinking sleepy eyes before focusing on the bundle in the woman's arms. "What-"

"Meet our newest charge."

"What's his -or her?- name?"

"His. And I'm not quite sure yet. There was no note and this is the only hint I have to go on." She pointed to the monogram.

Michelle wiggled in the chair. "Ooh, what are you going to name him, Matron?"

Isria smiled at the young girl before turning her attention to the boy cradled against her chest. She carefully traced her finger near the vivid, branching cut on the baby's forehead. It would probably scar, poor thing, but it wasn't the first child she'd taken in who'd been hurt. HJP. She hummed. "What do you think of 'Haden'?"

Michelle nodded, leaning over in her seat to get a better look at the new baby. "I like it~!" she stage whispered, trying not to wake him up.

"Haden Jason," Isria decided, using her husband's father's name. She'd always liked it. "P-P-P." She popped her lips, trying to think of a suitable last name for the child abandoned on her doorstep in the cold. "Purnell? Persices..."

"Prevail." Michelle squirmed in place when her matron's eyes turned to her. "He- he's going to have a lot to overcome, right? With being an orphan, and that cut. Some of the other kids pick on the ones with scars." She would know, fingers tapping nervously against the mangled flesh that had once been her knee, the leg below it gone.

Isria smiled sorrowfully at the shy girl. "So they do... And that name is very fitting. Welcome to the family, little Haden."

In her arms, Haden Jason Prevail snuggled against her chest in sleep.

xxx

"This isn't funny, Misha!"

"I didn't say it was funny, I said it was cute."

The little dark-haired boy's face was so red it hurt, small hands clenched in the hem of the skirt his 'big sister' had forced him into. There were no small girls in the orphanage at the moment, and Haden had been at the exact wrong place at the wrong time when the older girl had been struck with the urge to play dress up with the unused girls' clothes in the attic. The other boys picked on him enough for his scar and without looking like a girl on top of it!

"I hate you so much!"

Michelle hugged him to her chest. "But you're so cute! You look adorable, Haden."

Haden wasn't sure how he did it, but he was sure his faced managed to blush three shades darker. "They'll make fun of me..."

"They make fun of us all the time anyway. I besides, I bet the Eds won't."

Haden hesitated at that. Edward and Edwin were the only ones who didn't make fun of him, really. Well, them and Misha. It had started out with just the usual teasing, mostly about his scar- until the things began happening. When Haden had accidentally run into one of the older boys and spilled juice on him, all the boys old enough to have rooms instead of sleeping in the nursery had chased after him. They'd chased him around the back of the orphanage and Phillip had managed to grab Haden's arm in a bruising grip when it'd happened. He'd wanted- needed to get away, to be anywhere else except in the other boy's hold, and then suddenly he'd been up in the tree in the orphanage's back yard.

In front of a group of no fewer than six older boys, he'd disappeared from the fingers of one of them and somehow ended up in the upper branches of the tree. Haden had waited until they'd left to fetch Matron before carefully climbing down out of the tree. And that hadn't been the only incident of the... whatever it was, happening, either.

When Timothy had stolen Haden's one stuffed animal -they were each given one stuffed toy of their choice- Haden had gotten so upset and angry that he couldn't think and the next thing he'd known, there had been a windstorm in the middle of the nursery. Blankets and pillows had been swept up in the chaos, others' toys whipped about in the storm. It had all ended when the wind had picked up footwear and Timothy had gotten hit in the head with a heavy rain boot. Haden had screamed for Matron and spent the rest of the day hidden under his covers, clutching his stuffed dragon.

Calls of 'scarface' had quickly changed to 'freak'. The little girls -before they'd been adopted- had been terrified of Haden. The older girls avoided him like he was contagious or something, and the older boys... Haden really preferred when they were scared, actually. Fear of what he could do was a safety from whatever they could inflict on him. Only the brothers, Edward and Edwin, and Michelle weren't afraid. Only the two Eds and Misha.

Edward and Edwin thought Haden's outbursts were 'wicked awesome!'. Edward wrote them all down and tried to come up with an explanation for them all.

It proved handy when they began to show signs of the same kind of something that Haden did. Edwin accidentally tripped down the stairs and sat at the bottom, crying with all his might until Haden and Edward got to him, and before their eyes, the bruises and scrapes disappeared. Edward was thrilled, looking around for his journal to write it the incident down in and unable to find it. Comforted that was okay, Edwin helped look. One of the older boys snickered at them and it became obvious they wouldn't find the book. They retreated to the nursery and Edward had thrown himself on his bed, crying tears of frustration.

The crying hadn't lasted long before the anger kicked in and he sat up, fists tight as he walked back and forth in the room and ranted about the stupid, juvenile simpletons they were forced to share a building with. "Bumbling fools can't get their heads around anything more complicated than eating- and they fail at that half the time, too, if Isabel's complaints on washing duty count for anything! Bloody imbeciles!" Angry tears coursed down his cheeks and he'd stopped in the middle of the floor. "I just want my j-journaaal!" On the last, desperate wail, Edward held out his hands, and the book was suddenly in them.

Absolute silence pervaded the room as he looked between the startled gazes of Haden and Edwin, looking back at his journal and cautiously thumbing through the pages. It was the real thing. The three boys had traded awed looks and a silent promise. Tell no one.

They hadn't told anyone how they'd managed to get the journal back, but Edward had held it up mockingly at the dinner table, David's face going purple at the defiant act. Phillip had gone white. "H-how-"

Edward had ignored them all; Haden hadn't, smirking victoriously, mockingly, green eyes alight. Edwin had stubbornly ignored them all and made a quiet comment to his brother. Haden was the one to see the dark look on Timothy's face and knew that war had just been declared.

Haden sighed and went limp in Misha's hold. "Yeah, okay."

The older girl beamed down at him and grabbed her crutch, motioning for him to lead the way and hobbling behind him. Haden pulled open the trapdoor and peeked out of the room, seeing no one in the hallway below. He shuffled down the ladder and called up softly, catching the crutch tossed down to him and waiting as Misha crawled down, watching the odd hop-step she always had to employ. Haden nervously smoothed out the short, ruffly skirt. He shifted in place, the leggings clinging to his legs far closer than any pair of pants ever had.

The nursery was downstairs, which meant there was a greater chance of someone else seeing him, but at least he and the Eds were the only ones in it at the moment.

"Morning, gimpy!" Haden stilled, mortification draining the blood from his face. Oh, please no. Anyone but Tim. Anyone but Tim. "And who have you got with you? New girl?"

Misha dropped the last three rungs and took her crutch from Haden's frozen form, turning scathing blue eyes on Timothy. "What business is it of yours?"

Haden tensed, shoulders pulling in to make him look smaller. He heard the heavy sound of boots against the floor and Misha huffing as she was pushed, stumbling back into the wall. Timothy grabbed Haden's shoulder and turned him around, face going slack in shock and stumbling back himself. Haden's blush renewed itself as Tim stared at him in abject horror that, really, Haden felt far exceeded the actual situation. Tim glanced from him to Misha. "You- What kind of sick freak are you? You dressed him like, like a- You've turned him into a pouf!"

Haden didn't know what that was, but it didn't sound good. He looked back at Misha. "What's a poof?"

"It's a... a boy who likes other boys."

Green eyes blinked. "But... I like Edward and Win."

"Not friendship-like. Kissing like."

Haden frowned. "So... Matron is a pouf because she kisses the girls on the forehead?"

Tim made a strangled noise and looked apoplectic. Misha looked like she was doing her best not to break down giggling. "Not quite. Lip-kissing kind of like. The marrying kind of like."

Tim's expression was one of utter disgust and Haden frowned. "Well, what's wrong with that?"

Misha smirked at the older boy across from her. "Yes, Timothy, tell us, please. What is wrong with that?"

Tim looked at Haden like he was a hideous bug. "Do you actually like dressing like that?"

Well, no, he hadn't particularly. He didn't mind it, really, and it made Misha happy. But that awful tone of voice was the exact same one Phillip had used when he'd said that Haden should cut his hair because it made him look like a- He couldn't recall the exact terminology, but it hadn't been good. Haden replied the same way he had then, glittering green eyes narrowed dangerously. "And what if I do?"

"You disturbed little fuck."

Haden flinched at the venom in the voice, eyes closing on the surprising pain wrenching his chest. It wasn't any different than anything they'd said before really. He carefully swallowed his tears and glowered up at the towering moron. "The only thing disturbing me at the moment is you." Haden made a shooing motion, utterly condescending, and smiled. "Move along, now."

Tim's face darkened thunderously and he took a step toward him, coming up short with a grunt as Misha's crutch landed in the middle of his chest and shoved him back against the wall. Her smile was much meaner -she was the one who'd taught Haden how to do it- "You heard him. Move along."

Unwilling to stand up to the girl with a potential bludgeoning weapon, Tim scowled at them and retreated to his room.

Haden shivered as the effects of the confrontation wore off and left him trembling. He shook his head. Grow up. You already knew they hated you. He jerked when Misha put a hand on his head.

"Are you okay?" Her bright blue eyes shone with concern.

He brushed her off, determined not to show weakness. Misha had only one leg and she never showed any weaknesses. Haden couldn't do less than the girl he considered his sister. "I'm fine. Let's go find the Eds already. I want to get out of this get-up." It'd be stupid of him to walk around with a huge target painted on his forehead just because of the clothes he wore.

Misha sighed an followed him down the stairs. The brothers were in the nursery, Win sprawled out across his bed and reading a storybook while Edward sat on his own bed cross-legged with several notebooks and his journal open around him, blowing golden-blond bangs out of his face. Neither of them bothered looking up since no one bothered them in their sanctuary anyway.

"Hey, Haden, where have you been all morning? I came up with a new theory on the-" Edward trailed off as he finally looked away from his work and caught sight of the black-haired boy. He jumped off the bed and stood at attention, throwing a glare at Misha over Haden's shoulder. "Misha! Why didn't you say we had a new kid?"

Edwin jumped off his bed next to his brother with his normal happy smile. "Hi~! I'm Edwin, nice to meet you!"

Hid half behind Misha's leg, Haden glared balefully at the floor, fingers tight on the material of his sister's pant-leg as he felt a nerve in his cheek twitch. Misha leaned against the door frame, body shaking as she suppressed her laughter.

"And I'm Edwin's big brother, Edward!" Edward puffed out his chest and pointed his thumb at his chest. "So what's your name?"

Haden finally looked up from the floor, unmistakable, furious green eyes glaring at the duo. "It's me, you idiots!"

Edward staggered into his brother's side, burnished eyes almost the color of his hair staring disbelievingly. "H-Haden?!"

Edwin's jaw dropped, whiskey-caramel eyes wide. "You- uh..."

Face feeling like it was going to catch fire, Haden toyed with the hem of his outfit. "Do you, uh, like it?"

Win's mouth snapped closed and he nodded vigorously. "You look really pretty!"

Haden looked up through his bangs at them. "...Really?"

Misha's hand dropped on his head and petted him. "See? I told you so."

The blonde's mind finally kicked back in and he pointed an accusing finger at Misha's face. "You! What did you do to him?! You turned Haden into a girl!"

Biting the inside of his cheek in anger, Haden stalked forward and hit Edward over the head. "I'm not a girl, you- you-" He made an incoherent noise. "I'm not a girl just because I'm wearing a dress!"

Edward didn't even acknowledge the hit, focusing on the older girl still even as Misha smirked, gold eyes clashing with blue. "Matron isn't going to like this."

Matron liked it enough to take pictures. "But Matronnn!"

"Edward, don't whine."

Haden felt like whining himself as he stood on the stool for the best picture angle. "Matron, I'm hungry." He hadn't gotten to eat any breakfast with how early Misha had dragged him up to the attic. Matron handed him a pastry and Haden bit into it with relish. The two females cooed over how cute he was and took another picture.

"But Matron, Haden's a boy and Misha stuffed him in a dress!"

"Haden can wear dresses if he wants to."

Ed turned his attention to Haden finally, golden gaze wary. "Do you want to?"

There was that tone of voice again and Haden felt his shoulders stiffen. He carefully observed Edward from the corner of his eye. "And what if I do? Win says I look pretty like this."

Edward looked away sulkily, cheeks coloring. "I never said you weren't pretty. It's just- it's not normal."

Haden focused on his pastry. "I'm not known for my normalness now."

"Normalcy," Matron quietly corrected, finally putting the camera down and turning back to the stove and whatever she was making for lunch. Haden took the opportunity to sit down on the stool and finish off his snack while Edward looked away and thought about the whole situation.

Finishing the pastry, Haden licked the crumbs from his fingers and turned to Edward. "Would you marry me?"

The spoon Matron was stirring with hit the side of the pot with a loud clang and Misha held up her hands in surrender with a strained smile as she was pinned in place by their mother figure's sharp gaze.

Ed frowned in confusion. "Huh?"

Haden shrugged. "Something one of the older kids said. So would you marry me?"

"I thought you said that wearing a dress doesn't make you a girl."

"So I'd have to be a girl for you to marry me?"

"That's the way it works, doesn't it?"

"Why? If I like another boy and they like me, it's the same thing, right?"

Misha looked frantically between the two of them. "M-Matron, don't you have anything to add to this discussion?"

They all turned to the woman who studiously stirred the soup pot. "It's none of my business who they end up marrying." Her eyes narrowed and she shot Misha a speaking look over the top of the younger kids' heads. "Boy or girl, evidently."

Misha's shoulders dropped and she ducked her head. "Yes, Ma'am."

Haden looked up at Matron. "So we can get married?"

Matron smiled at him. "No, you're both far too young. Whether you will or not isn't up to me. You know I don't influence my children's decisions." That was something they all knew: Matron would answer questions for them if they asked, but she never pushed them towards any one decision. "The person you grow up to be is entirely up to you."

"I'll marry you if Brother won't," Edwin volunteered, looking up from his storybook.

Edward glared at the short brunet. "I never said I wouldn't marry him! Would you stop doing that?! I never said he wasn't pretty and I never said I wouldn't marry him."

"But you didn't say he was pretty and you didn't say you would marry him," Win pointed out.

"I'm still thinking, dammit!"

"Edward," came the mild rebuke.

Ed went rigid and a visible shudder ran up his spine. "Yes, Matron." Matron didn't care if they did curse, because it was something they chose, but she didn't tolerate it around herself.

"So do you think I'm pretty or not?" Haden asked, dragging the conversation back on track.

Edward scrutinized him and he very carefully didn't fidget as Ed circled him, golden eyes taking in the poofy black skirt and the lace petticoats giving it volume, up to the ruffled blouse and the large purple bow holding back his hair. Ed finished his circuit and stood in front of him with his arms crossed contemplatively. "Your outfit is aest- astic- Matronnn!"

"Aesthetically."

Ed nodded. "Aesthetically pleasing." The blonde leaned in close to stare him in the eyes and Haden felt his face heating again. He let a breath of relief when Edward finally stepped back. "I wouldn't not-marry you." Ed scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, it's not like I know anyone else, really, and who knows what will happen by the time we're both old enough, but I definitely wouldn't say no."

Misha caught Haden's gaze over Edward's head and rolled her eyes. "Leave it to Edward to turn a limerick into an epic and give a whole speech when he could have just said yes."

Ed rounded on the older girl. "What was that, you harpy?!"

Misha leaned forward and flicked Edward's nose with a smile. "Didn't you hear me, mon petit?"

"What did you just call me? What does that mean? Hey! Don't ignore me!"

Edwin met Haden's eyes over his book and they shared a grin at the antics of their family.

xxx