CHAPTER 1:

"Harry!"

Harry looked up from where he was standing, just a few steps from the exit of The Three Broomsticks. He and his friends and decided to come to the local pub, as it was the last Hogsmeade Weekend before the Christmas holidays, and everyone wanted to do their Christmas shopping. Harry didn't particularly want to come, as he had two essays to get done by Monday, and he was recuperating from a rather nasty cold.

Ron hurried over to him, red-faced. His blue eyes were watery and dilated from the amount of butterbeer he's drank, courtesy of Seamus Finnegan, who had bought the many rounds of warm liquor.

"Where'ya goin', Harry?" the redhead slurred, swaying slightly on his feet.

Harry rolled his eyes and reached out to steady his friend, though he did little good, being several inches shorter and his body much slighter than Ron's. Ron fell sideways and knocked his head into a table, before crashing to the ground. In the back of the pub, Harry saw Seamus, Dean, Neville, and a few other members of the DA, roaring in laughter.

Scowling at them, Harry helped his friend up. "Ron, mate, maybe you should lay off the butterbeer, yeah?" He grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him over to the closest chair and pushed him into it. "'Mione is going to be so mad when she finds out you're pissed…"

"'M not pissed," Ron grumbled, before letting out a loud letch.

"Right, of course not," said Harry, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Well, stay here then. I'm going back up to the castle. I've got homework to finish and my throat is still a bit sore, so I'm going to stop by the Infirmary and get some more Pain Relieving potion from Madam Pomfrey…If I see Hermione, I'll tell her to stop by here and check up on you."

Without saying another word to the plastered redhead in front of him, Harry darted out of the pub. He gasped a bit at the winter chill, pulling his cloak tighter against him. Large snowflakes were falling from the sky, quickly covering the already snow-covered ground once more. Snow crunched under his feet as he weaved his way through the rushing crowd of the village.

The village of Hogsmeade was a very peaceful place, and one of beauty, especially in the winter holidays. Christmas decorations were spewed out all around – in the shops, on the shops, above the shops, in the middle of the alleys, and on posts and trees. Christmas lights and charmed icicles and mistletoe, all added to the beauty of the fine village. In the distance, surrounding the village was the sight of the homes of the villagers, also decorative and festive for the season.

Harry loved Hogsmeade in Christmas time. He loved Christmas, period, especially, as it brought cheer, peace and love into his heart. He hadn't always loved Christmas, not when he lived with the Dursleys. At the Dursleys, there was cheer, peace and love, but Harry felt none of it. He was never wished 'Happy Christmas' or given a present, or even a kiss and a hug. His cousin, Dudley, always got it all, all of his aunt and uncle's attention, all of their love, their cheer and their peace. Harry, he always got something – a bruise on his cheek and sometimes a bloody nose or lip.

Turning into a dark alley, Harry was startled out of his now depressing thoughts, when a large, heavy weight threw itself onto his back, knocking him and his assailant down onto the crispy cold ground.

Harry struggled to get to his feet, but the weight on top of his back prevented him from doing so.

"You're not going anyway, precious," a voice cackled in his ear. Before Harry could even begin to get scared or start to struggle to get free, the same voice growled out, "Finite! Stupefy!" and all he saw was a flash of blue and red light, then darkness.

When he awoke, it was much in the evening. He was sore and cold, was the two things he noted first upon awakening. The second was that he was lying on a dusty old bed in a dirty and dingy old shack that he recognized was not the Shrinking Shack. The third was that he was completely naked, and bleeding. The last thing he noticed was that he was not alone…

A rather handsome man, of about thirty, was standing, leaning against the doorway, wearing nothing put a moth-eaten, old black robe, tied around his waist. The man was grinning evil-like, and his brown eyes were shinning with lust and desire. His hair, a dark brown, was to his shoulders, moist from, what Harry supposed, a shower.

Harry looked down at his own body, and gave a silent shriek. His secret! His secret, which he's kept thus for over twelve years, is known…and to his rapist, his violator, no less!

At these thoughts, Harry's face lost all color and he started to shake nearly uncontrollably. He couldn't believe it…it couldn't be true, right? This wasn't really happening? He wasn't just attacked and violated, all while he was unaware…all while he couldn't fight back?

Not only was his secret ripped from him, but also his innocence, his virginity. Hot, wet tears fell down Harry's face, unable to prevent or stop them. They flowed, and Harry sobbed, feeling used, sullied, helplessness, weak…bare, naked of both, his clothes and his identity.

A growl came from the same strange man in the doorway, and Harry felt something being flung at him. Looking at the items now in his lap, Harry saw that they were his clothes. Blinking in confusing, he looked up at the man.

"Get dressed!" the wizard snapped impatiently.

Without being told twice, Harry immediately put his clothes back on, not wanting to be naked in front of this man any longer than necessary. He pulled on his pants, his shirt and his socks and shoes in quick session, though not as quickly as he'd have liked, his leg muscles understandably too sore to move faster.

But, Harry was a fighter, and just because he was aching and emotionally exhausted and scared out of his mind, did not mean that he was going to let his man get away with what he's done. Just because Harry couldn't fight him off at the beginning of this whole…nightmare…did not mean that he was going to not fight now. He still had a few tricks up his sleeves.

Harry was many things, most of which everyone knew, or thought they knew. He was, of course, The-Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the Wizarding World, Defeater of the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and the goody, goody Golden Boy of Gryffindor and the protégé of one, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, the only things that were actually true, was that he was, indeed, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and Defeater of Voldemort. Everything else was who Harry wanted them to believe he was…it was all a false façade Harry played.

Harry has a couple well-kept secrets, ones that he's had and not told anyone about. One of these secrets came into existence when he turned seven. This secret is of his ability to do Wandless and Will Magic and his gift of Speed Reading. These gifts, he found out when he came to Hogwarts, were boosts of power, and they were only to get stronger as he aged. Every year, until he reached the age of magic maturity at age fifteen, his Wandless and Will Magic would become a bit stronger, and his Speed Reading time (the time it would take to read through something) would increase.

With a discreet wave of his hand, Harry waved a pain-numbing spell on his person, so that it would allow him to make it to Hogwarts without irritating the pain much further. Harry gave an inward sigh of relief, before waving his hand at his attacker, sending a silent curse.

The wizard, who had been advancing upon him as he dressed, was thrown back by the blast of energy, into the wall behind him. As he flew through the air, he had risen his wand, pointing it at Harry, who was too busy summoning his own (useless, really) wand that lay nearly hidden in the corner of the room.

"Obliviate!"

Several things happened in just a second in time. Harry's wand flew into his outstretched hand; the man hit the wall with a sickening crunch, his head having first it the wall, causing his neck to do a near full 360, snapping it clean, before the fresh corpse came crashing limp, onto the floor of the shack; the mist like spell smacked into Harry's head, wiping his memory of the last few hours from his mind instantly.

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Harry stared around at the room, blinking in confusion. The shack was quiet; the only sound was coming from outside of the place, where late-night shoppers were busy running around. Harry had no idea what time it was, what he was doing here, or where he was, only that he was at Hogsmeade, having remembered coming to the village sometime that afternoon.

His eyes widened at the sight of the body before him on the floor. Panicked and confused, Harry raced out of the room, down the rickety and creaking stairs, through the small, sad excuse of a kitchen, and was halfway through the sitting space, when he passed by a mirror. What he saw only made his confusion and fright build.

His reflection – his true reflection that is – stared back at him. No longer was his usual unruly head of hair, his 5 foot 10 frame of lean but still there, manly muscles, his spectacles, or anything else that looked masculine in any way, still visible.

He now had mid-back length hair that was not flat, but nor was it a wild mess – rather it was layered and feathered out, and it laid on his head to shape his much more feminine, Fae-like face. It was still jet-black, but it shone and was as smooth and soft as silk. His eyes, still the large and brilliant emerald green, were no longer hidden by glasses, as he had magically corrected his eye-sight in his second year, and only wore glasses so that he had the upper-hand of his foes. His physique, while still toned, was now femininely so – a tight stomach, a small curvy waist, and a pair of breasts that were average sized, but no less impressive. His hips had a full curve to them that shaped into his arse and thighs, and long slender legs. He was much shorter than his masculine form, standing at 5 foot 5, rather than 5 foot 10, and he weighed no more than 115lbs. He was very petite in form, and he was very beautiful.

He may look completely female, but it could change with a single wish…

See, he was what one would call a Magical Hermaphrodite. A common Hermaphrodite (which isn't very common) is a person who is born with both sexual organs – a penis and a vagina. There is a difference between a common Hermaphrodite and a Magical Hermaphrodite – a common Hermaphrodite being someone who has both at the same time and can't switch.

A Magical Hermaphrodite, or a MH, is different, because they could switch between penis and vagina whenever they wished, but their body stayed the same. Harry can only have either a penis or a vagina, but neither both at the same time. However, his feminine body – his breasts, curves, whatever – would stay the same, except his lower parts, which would become the sex he chooses. He is still considered male, no matter what sex he chooses, because he was born male.

If a MH is born male, they'll have a more feminine body, making him submissive by right, and if a MH is born female, they'll have a more masculine body, making her dominate by right. A Magical Hermaphrodite is kind of like a magical creature species, in the dominant and submissive sense, but neither will ever mate with each other. Submissive MHs are always male and will always mate with a male, and because of this, they can become pregnant, and dominant MHs are always female who mate with other females, and they can fertilize (A/N: hopefully that is the right word) their partners.

Harry, even though he has access to both a working penis and a vagina, felt more comfortable while being a full female (vagina and all), even though he was still male. It was his nature to.

This was his second deep dark secret. He had come into this…as he sees it, oddity, when he was four. Like is Wandless and Will and Speed Reading ability, it just appeared out of nowhere on his birthday. Being so young, he could fide it from everyone. He had no breasts to worry about being only four, and nobody ever saw him naked except himself, and his hair was always short back then, so no one suspected him of being anything other than a full fledged boy. They had no idea! It became a little easier to hide after his seventh birthday, when he came into his Wandless and Will Magic, because then he could Will his true feminine appearance to be hidden as it became more pronounced, and it would Wandlessly be hidden by his magic.

At Hogwarts, Harry did research on all of his gifts and his odd appearance, and realized that they all had a name, and he became more relaxed about his Wandless, Will and Speed Reading abilities…not enough to tell his friends and do it in public, but still, he did use his gifts every now and then (secretively). These gifts could give him the upper hand one day, he never knew, maybe it could help him against his foes.

However, after reading the books about Magical Hermaphrodites, he became a little more paranoid…Apparently, MHs were extremely rare. Harry was the first MH to be born in over four centuries. They were so rare that they were thought to be myths. The MH was said to be very powerful, more so than Merlin, Dumbledore and Voldemort combined, not to mention the males were very beautiful beings, and the legend behind the MHs say that they were created by Aphrodite herself, and were bestowed beauty and power.

Their ability of fertilization was something that made male MHs so special to the Wizarding World. Wizards were born bisexual, meaning they will bed with either a female or male, but they are the only males able to carry a child within them and give birth. Children were very precious to the Wizarding World, them being the next generation and all, and without magical children, magic would extinguish quickly. It was very important to wizards that they be able to procreate. Because of this and the fact that normal men could not become pregnant, that they bed and marry woman, so that they could have heirs and many other children. While male MHs weren't that important to witches, wizards worshiped them.

It was this that pressured Harry into hiding his MH features from everyone, even his friends and the Headmaster himself. He wanted nobody to know, at least not until he was ready for the chaos that was to ensure his outing of his MH.

Staring at his reflection, Harry was afraid that someone had seen his true appearance. He didn't know what had happened to the wizard up stairs, and he didn't want to know, but he prayed that his secret was still safe.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Harry replaced his concealment and glamour charms, and sighed with relief once his façade, his mask, was back in place, before hurrying out of this strange and unfriendly place.