I started a fanfic very similar to this a long time ago and wasn't happy with it. So I've re-hashed the whole thing and this is a sort of... version 2.0 if you like? Anyhow, this might go on for a long time and I plan to update it week by week!

All places/characters that aren't my own belong to their respective creator.

Enjoy! :)

In the realm of marvellously twisted and messed up ideas that Sebastian had ever cooked up in his oh so quietly cunning mind, this had to be the most twisted and messed up of them all. His older brother, Vince, once told him that in order to execute a plan of the illegal kind, it must be done in the name of something. Vince's examples including things such as 'in the name of Justice', or 'in the name of mutual benefit' or, most commonly, 'in the name of money.' So, when Sebastian looked in the mirror and told himself that he was doing this 'in the name of… something' he had to continue asking himself 'what?' His justification had to be solid; Vince had assured him of that many times, but no matter how hard Sebastian thought about it, he couldn't come up with a solid reason for his unbelievably unbelievable plan. So he tried this: 'in the name of solving an old problem.' It was weak. Weak, and he knew it, for what he was doing not only broke school rules, but Ministry ones too. Cross-dressing and a few minor transfiguration spells might have done the job just as well, but it was too late now – the Polyjuice potion was made, and Sebastian had taken on his new form. Now, the performance of his plan was all too real, whether he liked it or not. So it went like this: He had become a girl – yes - a girl, in the name of solving an old problem.

"There's something wrong with me." Sebastian said to his new reflection with his new voice.

The eventual hatching of this undeniably insane, yet genius plan of Sebastian's own making was all owed to that infamous night five years ago: the battle of Hogwarts. Sebastian had only been a first year then; a first year Slytherin who had experienced possibly the worst first year in Hogwarts history under the rule of the notorious Carrows and Professor Snape. Arguably, the coming years might have easily been the unluckiest time to be a Slytherin in the wake of a battle fought by kind-hearted Hufflepuffs, ingenious Ravenclaws and the outrageously brave Gryffindors of Hogwarts in a time of desperate need. But where had those Slytherins been? Cast into the dungeons in shame for having been associated with the very forces battling against them – sent home to languish, safe and out of harm's way – or, in Sebastian's case, running full speed through the deserted streets of Hogsmeade in a very muddy pair of slippers, his favourite stripy pyjamas and a torn dressing gown. The details had become blurry over time, so Sebastian didn't so much remember getting to Hogsmeade as well as he remembered spending an entire night there; he vaguely recalled running to hide inside a suit of armour when all of the first years were assembled to be evacuated. He recollected fleeing from the metal exoskeleton when its form was suddenly animated to life and forced into the slough of battle by a raging Professor McGonagall, in which he was sure a large piece of his dressing gown was torn by the armour's sharp sword – but anyway – there he was, bolting as fast as his tiny legs could carry him until he found himself in - Hogsmeade. Now, this might not sound so terrible; Hogsmeade was, after all, a recreational and charmingly picturesque village home to many wizarding attractions that Sebastian had read about in the library long before he had ended up there by chance. But Hogsmeade was strictly off limits to first and second years. Only third years and above were allowed to venture through its dandy, fairy lit pathways in full daylight, accompanied by their peers with express permission from their guardians. So to be there alone, at night, the booms and blazing lights of ensuing battle raging behind him, was terrifying to say the least. Until –

"Psst."

Eleven year old Sebastian whipped around in panic, peering with divided vision around the empty doorways. He grasped his wand from where he'd hastily stuffed it in his dressing gown pocket and held it aloft with shaking hands.

"Psst!" The sound came again, more alert, from the doorway of The Three Broomsticks.

"Who's there?" Sebastian demanded, his voice substantially lacking in the courage and maturity it needed to carry across his demand with any sense of conviction.

"Quick, get in here!" Said the little urgent voice from the shadows. In his fear, Sebastian failed to recognise the voice as another boy's and immediately thought: Death Eater.

"Don't try anything!" He yelled. "Or I'll – I'll" –

"You'll what?" Came the disbelieving reply. "Don't be stupid or someone will see you! Hurry up!"

And that was how Sebastian met Alex. Truly met him, that was. He'd seen Alex in school; watched him get sorted at the start of the year, observed with uncaring eyes as the boy's friendship group and popularity grew to an impressive circle that constantly accompanied him wherever he went. And Sebastian continued to watch over the coming months and years, only with keener eyes and sharper ears. But at this very point in time, Alex had been simply a boy to Sebastian – a boy who was willing to pull him away from danger and let him into his own, small space of safety that was, apparently, The Three Broomsticks.

Sebastian tumbled into the pub and Alex firmly shut the front door behind him a second later.

"What are you?" Alex demanded, hands on hips as he stood tall above Sebastian. Alex, unlike Sebastian, was not donned in pyjamas, but a blazing red jumper that was noticeably a tad too big for him around the shoulders and loose fitting trousers, his wand holstered like a sword at his belt. Alex's bronze curls stuck up around his head in a messy halo and fierce green eyes blazed down at Sebastian. He was all colour and presence, nothing short of extreme.

"W-what am I?" Sebastian repeated, still horribly shaken from his ordeal. "I'm human."

Alex rolled his eyes as though what Sebastian had said was blindingly obvious, which, of course, it was. "No, I mean - what are you, stupid or something?"

Sebastian gulped, gazing up at his new companion on this strange night, drinking in his glowing, over-zealous stature. For a boy the same age as Sebastian, Alex knew how to hold himself with a confidence that Sebastian wasn't familiar with. Sebastian thought he understood confidence, growing up with an older brother who brimmed with it, but he would soon learn that Vince's confidence and Alex's were two very different things. Vince oozed an air of 'I'll know what you're thinking before you do', whereas Alex… well… Sebastian was scared of him at first.

"What are you doing running around in the middle of the night with Death Eaters around?" Alex asked, still not concerned with helping Sebastian up from the cold floor.

"I was lost." Said Sebastian truthfully.

Alex snorted. "But you can still see the castle from here."

"Yeah." Sebastian began to straighten up defensively, "Haven't you ever been lost in the castle before?"

Alex stopped for a second, stumped that this boy much smaller than him had comeback with a valid question that might just invalidate his insult. He shrugged. "Dunno. You're dirty. Did you fall over?"

Sebastian shook his head. "Don't think so. Maybe. Probably."

Alex regarded him openly. "What's your name?"

"Sebastian Murlock."

"Oh. I don't recognise you."

Sebastian couldn't say he was surprised. He doubted that many people in his own house recognised him. In the Carrows' presence, Sebastian had learnt to keep his head down; stick to the shadows, as it were. This became a habit very quickly and he made little effort to talk to anyone outside of his own family.

"I don't recognise you either." He lied.

Alex thrust his hand underneath Sebastian's nose. "I'm Alexander Fawley. You can call me Alex. And before you ask, no. I'm not a Death Eater."

Sebastian frowned. "I wasn't going to." He rubbed his neck – he couldn't remember when or how he'd twisted it. "And I'm not either."

Alex laughed. "I know that. You're way too small to be one of them."

"So are you." Sebastian protested.

Alex scoffed. "Actually, I'm the tallest in my year."

Sebastian wiped his nose and stumbled upright. The pub was dingy in the dark. The timber roof creaked and groaned above them, tiny knocks sounding from inside the walls. He shuddered – the whole building felt alive with anticipation… or perhaps that was just him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked Alex.

Alex grinned. "Building a fort. Wanna see?"

Sebastian blinked. "How did you get here?" He elaborated.

"I apparated." Said Alex, puffing out his chest.

"B-but you're eleven." Sebastian gasped. "I thought you weren't allowed to apparate until you're seventeen."

"I'm twelve, actually," Alex sniffed, extremely smug, "and I've been doing it for ages. My uncle is the head of the Department of Transportation so naturally he taught me a thing or two."

Sebastian was gazing at Alex with a new kind of awe, his fear slowly dissipating. "C-can you teach me?"

Alex turned away, tapping his chin. "Weeell, I don't know about that. It's very dangerous and technically I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. Hmm. I'll think about it." He hummed ambiguously. "You have to look at my fort first."

Sebastian nodded fervently. "I will, I will!"

Alex guided him through the cold abandoned tables of the Three Broomsticks and up a flight of wooden stairs near the back. An uneven corridor ran the length of the building, numbered rooms lining it.

"So, it's an inn too…" Sebastian muttered.

"Cool, right? Just through here." Alex pushed open the door to room 12 and Sebastian decided this must be the biggest room of them all because there was no way every room in the building was this huge. The king-size bed, however, had been stripped of its blankets and sheets and pillows, all of which were stacked into an elaborate structure in the middle of the floor space.

Alex strode to the pillow fort's entrance. "Ta-da!" He exclaimed, theatrically thrusting his arms wide.

Sebastian laughed. "So this is your fort."

The smile slid off Alex's face right away. "Yeah?" He challenged. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing!" Said Sebastian. "I just thought you meant like a proper fort."

Alex crossed his arms. "It doesn't have to be made of bricks and steel to be a proper fort. Besides, this fort is reinforced with loads and loads of spells and stuff so…"

"We're not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts." Said Sebastian, scandalised.

Alex rolled his eyes. "I doubt they'll be checking up on a kid with everything else that's going on."

As if on cue, a boom that rattled the loose floorboards beneath them shivered beneath them. Sebastian felt a vice-like grip on his arm, and turned to see that Alex had grabbed him, his face drained of colour.

"It's a great fort." Said Sebastian quietly, "Shall we go inside?"

Alex blinked twice and let his arm drop from Sebastian's. "Yeah." He agreed, an edge to his voice.

"My brother and I used to build forts like this all the time, only… they weren't quite like this. They were smaller and – less magic, I suppose." Said Sebastian. He parted the sheets at the entrance and crawled onto the squashy, cushioned floor, then drew his wand. "Lumos." He whispered, and the shelter was alight with a soft glow.

Alex gasped. "What are you doing?"

"It's like you said. The ministry isn't going to be checking up on a kid using magic outside of school. Not tonight."

Alex nodded and regained his composure with a small, dismissive laugh. "Yeah, yeah. I know that."

Who knew that such a small barrier to the outside world could provide such an abundance of warmth and distraction for the two boys? The next few hours passed like a dream for Sebastian. He and Alex talked about anything and everything – their favourite subjects at school, their families, Alex's rare find of three Carlotta Pinkstone Chocolate Frog cards in one sitting, which then sparked a heated debate as to whether Chocolate Frogs really were alive – anything and everything except what was happening just outside the door. When they got hungry, the boys ransacked the pantry downstairs and feasted on pumpkin juice, corned beef sandwiches, pumpkin pasties and – yes – Chocolate Frogs. The fort soon became a mess of crumbs, melted chocolate stains and splashes of juice, but it was a haven better than the two ever could have wished for in the aftermath of the experiences both had accumulated in the space of a night. Despite all of their efforts, not even their illusion was shatter-proof against the horrors outside. The worst horror of them all echoed as a voice above them, ricocheting through the fort into their very beings; the voice of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, demanding that Harry Potter relinquish himself in lieu of the deaths of every man, woman and child. Sebastian had never felt such fear, such horror since that night. Instinctively, the boys extinguished the light of their wands, plunging them into darkness.

"It's him, he's here." Alex started to mutter. "He's found us. He's going to kill us."

In the dark, Sebastian fumbled for Alex's hand and found it, clinging hard. "He's not here. It's just a voice. It's just a voice, Alex. He's not here for us."

Then Alex started to cry. Their haven had vanished, as quickly as it had come. Sebastian tried to quiet Alex, whispering empty, soothing words over and over again, but, just as before, he couldn't hide his own fear. In the cold and the dark, the boys lay atop the cushions inside their shelter, curled up together for comfort and warmth. Neither of them could sleep. Neither of them wanted to sleep for fear of the dangers outside.

"What time is it?" Alex whispered, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

"I don't know." Said Sebastian, pressing their foreheads together. They waited. Waited for the noises outside to come hurtling at their door. But none came, it was all silent, save for their heartbeats thudding at an immeasurable pace, deafening them. The minutes came and went, and they lay like that together until their bodies gradually relaxed as the threat passed.

"You know, I lied." Alex said, opening his eyes and gazing at Sebastian in the faded dim. "I didn't really use any magic on this fort, so… it's not safe."

"I know." Said Sebastian, "But that doesn't mean it's not magic."

At this point, the pair were tangled in each other, all arms and legs and pyjamas and cushions. They were nothing outside of themselves, the world outside paled into insignificance. Sebastian couldn't remember who started it. He wasn't even sure if either of them had started it. It had just… happened. They were eleven and twelve, inexperienced and kissing just for comfort. Sebastian remembered the warmth and feel of Alex's chocolate flavoured lips against his own, hungry for the reassurance of safety and intimacy that words couldn't bring. It didn't feel wrong or weird or in the slightest bit uncomfortable. Sebastian's fingers were threaded in Alex's curls, tugging him closer and both of Alex's arms enveloped Sebastian's waist, squeezing him. They kissed for an immeasurable length of time, finding mind-numbing relief in the act itself, neither of them thinking about what it meant or why they were doing it. Like this, the boys finally broke apart and fell into a dreamless sleep in each other's arms, content in each other's company and plagued by the exhaustion only a night like that could bring.

Sebastian's last thought before drifting into unconsciousness wrapped in Alex's arms was that if he could relive this night over and over for eternity, he would. But all too soon, morning came, and when it did, Sebastian was alone in the fort, bright morning light shedding warm light into room 12. It was an understatement to say that Madam Rosmerta had been more than shocked when a dazed and sleepy eleven year old boy with chocolate stains down his pyjamas came wandering down the stairs. That day passed in a blur. It was surreal, being embraced by his teary parents and eldest brother, all alive in front of the ruins of Hogwarts, and all the while Sebastian could do nothing but look out for a red jumper and messy bronze curls. But amidst the celebrating students, the tears, the mourning, the worrying and cuddling, the previous night faded like a good dream. Those summer holidays might have been the strangest of Sebastian's life, passed in a trance-like state, he watched as the world he knew crumbled around him. Vince warned him then: Keep your head down, things are about to become a lot worse for ? Sebastian had asked. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was dead. All muggle-borns, themselves included, were free from persecution and Azkaban was fuller than it had ever been. Sebastian hadn't wanted to believe Vince's answer; that just by being a Slytherin he would be viewed as a criminal. But Vince had been right. Entering into second-year had been a nerve-wracking ordeal. Not only was Sebastian anxious as to how his non-Slytherin peers would receive him, but he'd see Alex for the first time since they'd been kissing in that fort. What would Alex say to him? What would he say to Alex? Nothing. Nothing, turned out to be the answer, because it soon came to light that the two were divided in differences more than Sebastian had cared to think about. Alex was a Gryffindor – he'd known that from the start. But it had not occurred to him that Alex had not realised that Sebastian was a Slytherin. They shared one, crucial interaction at the welcoming feast that told Sebastian all he needed to know on Alex's opinion of him. It had just been a look – one look as Sebastian had dared to glance over at the Gryffindor table as he followed his house mates to the Slytherin table, only to find a pair of wide, confused green eyes fixed on his every move. And then the realisation spread over Alex's face that had sent a shot of dread, and for some reason, guilt through Sebastian. Their eyes had met, and it was Sebastian who turned away first.

It was that look that rid Sebastian's hope of ever speaking to Alex again. Not that he'd get a chance to anyway. Alexander Fawley rapidly became Gryffindor's poster boy. Seeker and Captain of the Quidditch team by sixth year, excelling in Defence against the Dark Arts and Charms respectively, Alex shone as the star - the hero pupil of not only Gryffindor but the entirety of Hogwarts. He was rarely seen without his hoard of followers and fans, each vying for his attention in attempts that Sebastian could only describe as pathetic. So why, then, did Sebastian still religiously watch Alex from afar, only to avert his gaze whenever their eyes threatened to meet? Why had he placed himself behind Alex in every class they shared? Why did he still remember the feel of Alex's lips against his own whenever he ate a Chocolate Frog? And not just Chocolate Frogs anymore, now all chocolate was cursed for Sebastian – forever tainted by the bitter experiences that led him to these problems in the first place. In Sebastian's mind, it had become a pathological problem that needed to be solved by any means necessary before he was driven to insanity. It wasn't until sixth year that a solution presented itself to Sebastian, a solution so outrageously bizarre that he knew it had to be executed.

That brought him to here.

Sebastian gazed, dumbfounded at his new, unfamiliar reflection. Months of preparation and waiting and careful planning had brought him to this. And he wasn't even half-way to his goal. A pair of pleasant, honeyed eyes with eyelashes shorter than his own gazed at him. A small mouth gaped in shock. Thick, chestnut curls tumbled over his shoulders, framing his delicate, heart-shaped face. But this wasn't his face. It was Amanda Parson's.