Harry awoke not too long afterwards feeling strangely disconcerted. He struggled to his feet, noticing that his shoes and tee shirt now felt many sizes too big. He stumbled out the door and pushed open the door to Fred's room but stopped short. Reaching toward something at the middle of his back, Harry yanked on it hard only to make his eyes water. Pulling it around so that he could see it, Harry found a mess of black hair with large loose curls at the ends. Harry did a double take. The hair felt like his, it was the same color as his, but his hair definitely was not this long or curly. Harry stumbled toward a large mirror on the other side of Fred's room and stared a back at his reflection.
"What is the problem with Fred's mirror?" he asked himself as a petite young woman with bright green eyes and black hair wearing an oversized tee shirt stared back at him. "She even has glasses like I do!" Harry said with wonder, "it must be a joke mirror." Shaking his head, Harry conjured his own mirror, only to find the same girl staring back at him. "No," Harry said aloud, an awful thought dawning on him, "it can't be happening." Harry rushed to the door, but stopped, his hand on the door handle. "I can't go out there like this!" he thought miserably. Spinning around to walk back across the room, Harry bumped into the bell that had called the twins downstairs earlier. It clanged loudly and almost immediately two pairs of feet could be heard clamoring up the stairs.
Clutching his head, Harry backed away from the door and jumped into the closet. "They're bound to give me all sorts of grief for this," Harry thought with impeding dread.
The door swung open and Fred called good-naturedly "You rung, Harry?"
Harry groaned and exited the closet, dreading the moment when he would encounter the twins in his new ahem form.
"Oi! Where's Harry?" Fred called to Harry-who-no-longer-looked-like-Harry.
"Fred!" Harry exclaimed, embarrassed yet desperate.
"Harry?" George asked uncertainly, recognizing his voice which hadn't changed yet.
"Yeah," Harry-who-no-longer-looked-like-Harry replied, resigned to his fate.
Understanding began to dawn on the twins and they looked at each other, grinning slightly.
"Aw, C'mon, guys, it isn't really that funny!" Harry said desperately.
George chuckled slightly, coming to stand next to Harry. Harry looked up, realizing for the first time that he had gotten shorter, if that was possible.
"Step into my office," George laughed, opening a door Harry hadn't noticed before.
"Now," Fred began, "you can't leave here wearing your clothes or people will automatically assume the worst, and in this case they would be correct." Harry fidgeted, wondering what kind of torture he would have to go through now.
"So, Fred and I have decided to help you out," George smiled gleefully and held up a pink denim skirt and a pink tank top with sparkly lettering along with some ahem feminine undergarments.
"No way," Harry said stubbornly.
Fred and George shared a knowing look before George continued, "Fine, would you feel better in jeans?"
"Absolutely," Harry responded immediately.
"And if we get you a pair of jeans do you promise to wear them no matter what?" Fred asked, smiling.
"Sure," Harry shot back without thinking.
"Excellent!" George replied, "It just so happens that we have some right here." George held up a pair of light-wash skinny jeans and grinned gleefully.
Harry's eyes grew wide. "You can't be serious," he exclaimed.
"Go on," Fred prompted, ushering Harry behind the screen and handing him the jeans along with some new unmentionables.
"This is so wrong," Harry thought, squeezing his eyes shut before stripping down. Haphazardly, he pulled the skinny jeans up and buttoned the. "How do girls wear these things?" Harry marveled, feeling how tight the jeans were compared to his.
"Now, seeing that something new has been added to your upper body," George cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable to be talking about such things, "You will be in need of this." A bra was thrown over the screen and fell on Harry's head.
"Great," Harry though uncomfortably as he stripped down, keeping his eyes closed the entire time. Harry struggled to clasp the back part together for a few moments, before finally latching it and giving a sigh of relief.
"Incoming!" Fred called as a white cami flew over the screen. Harry forced it on, relieved to finally be covered again.
"Last one!" George called and flung a fitted v-neck tee shirt with a sparkly Gryffindor crest across the front over the screen.
Harry rolled his eyes but shrugged the shirt on and stepped out from behind the screen. Surprised, Harry was met by a young woman in a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes tee shirt. "Is this the one?" she called out the door.
"Yep," Fred and George answered together, standing outside the door.
"Sit," she commanded before turning around to open a large suitcase. Bewildered, Harry did as he was told, hoping his jeans wouldn't rip in the process since they were so tight. Reading his expression, the girl said, "They really aren't that tight, you know, they don't pull back and snap which is the mark of truly tight and in style jeans," she winked. Harry looked at her in wonder, uncertain of how she knew that was what he was thinking. "Now sit still," she commanded, "and close your eyes." She turned back toward her suitcase and Harry closed his eyes distrustfully.
The girl scrutinized him for a moment before pulling out many shades of brown eye shadow and black mascara. With practiced ease she applied the base and nude shades before highlighting the corner of the eyes with light brown and the lash line with dark brown. Harry sat there, wondering what in the world was going on as the feeling of make-up application was so utterly foreign to him. Harry heard a slight pop and continued to wonder what in the world was going on. The girl smiled, opening a barely discernable pink lip color. She deftly swiped the application wand across his lips, giving them a girlish shine with a slight pink tinge.
Using an inaudible spell, the girl made Harry open his eyes and not flinch, or come to a realization, when she applied black eyeliner and mascara. Stepping back, she surveyed her work before pulling his hair partially back and securing it with a thick silver clip. Gathering her things, she walked out the door, revoking her spell only once she was safely out of the room. Harry stood up hesitantly and walked toward the sound of George's voice.
As he stepped out of the room, the conversation stopped abruptly and Fred whispered, "Blimey, Harry."
Harry shot them an annoyed look before happening to notice his reflection in the mirror he had conjured earlier. In amazement he stared back at the reflection. In his old jeans no one ever would have noticed how…erm…curvy he was, which sounded slightly odd but he chose to ignore it to avoid further embarrassing thoughts. The red Gryffindor tee shirt looked really, what's the word, cute on him he had to admit and the way his semi-curly hair framed his face was…. "Oh never mind," Harry thought, embarrassed for even thinking such a thing. But then, Harry noticed his eyes and scowled back at his reflection. "Is that…what's it called, eyeliner? And all that other junk too?" Harry was furious, but knew if he commented, Fred and George would give him all sorts of grief for the make-up. Harry turned around, realizing something. "I'm supposed to go to your house tonight; you're mum will have a cow!" he exclaimed.
Fred and George looked worriedly at one another. "We…we looked at the box and it wasn't even supposed to be on the table, we weren't done testing it yet…"Fred trailed off, "you're voice will start changing in a couple hours and well, who knows how long you'll be stuck like that seeing as we haven't found a counter candy or spell or anything."
"What?" Harry exclaimed loudly, "What am I supposed to do when I go to your house tonight?"
"Calm down," George replied, "Just send mum an owl saying that you were delayed and not to wait up for you. Then send one to dad and tell him to take mum to bed because all you'll want to do is collapse and you don't want her to worry about you. I'll find out from Ron which room you'll be in so that you can use Floo powder to get there without having to go through the kitchen and ta da, problem solved until morning where you sleep most of the day with the door locked."
"Alright, let's do it," Harry consented.
"Already done," Fred said, smiling. "Now all you've got to do is pack up some more girl clothes to wear until this thing wears off and slip into a large robe so that if mum suspects anything she won't be able to see anything different in the dark before you jump into the fireplace."
A few minutes later, Harry was clutching a borrowed suitcase with some more clothes in it, along with his own, and standing before the fireplace in George's bedroom.
"Here you go," Fred said, holding the bowl of Floo powder out to him.
"Good luck!" George called as Harry stepped into the flames and called "The Weasley house!" Closing his eyes, Harry was off, remembering once again why he hated to travel the Floo Network.
Popping out of the fireplace, Harry looked around and groaned to see that he had come out of the fireplace in the Weasley's kitchen. Cautiously, harry hid his hair under a muggle baseball cap and started across the kitchen. Reaching the stairs, Harry heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Harry! Is that you?"