Disclaimer: Don't own SPN, neither HP. If I did, I wouldn't be so piss poor. *sob*

Pairings: Sam/Harry and (?) Dean/Harry

Warnings: HP is AU from GoF, genderbend, slightly crack!fic, my bad humor, slash, het, femslash

Beta: FEARMEfrancis

Chapter 1: "Oops."

"No girl shall purchase a distinctive item of clothing which she is aware her friend owns without express permission from the friend." /Girl Code Rule 11/

It was a nice day.

The rain was pounding on the glass, the winds were picking apart the rooftop of the next house and the sky was black with clouds covering the sun.

Grimmauld Place was located between two houses (number 11 and number 13), hidden under Fidelius, so the muggle neighbors and magical onlookers didn't even know about its' existence. Only a selected few could enter and they have to be admitted by the holder of the secrecy charm.

The key to it was a person named Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, lemon drop lover and a man who holds many more titles and the man who was told to be older than mankind. Yes, Dumbledore's acquaintances were convinced that the man should be long dead and that something wasn't natural about his magical prowess.

Whether Dumbledore knew about the rumors about him or not, Harry thought that the old man might have got fed up with the double standards of the Wizarding World and he tried to escape from their clutches by retreating into his mind. Or his strange habits and quirks were just an attempt to make his enemies underestimate him while he plotted against the followers of the dark.

Harry wasn't even sure about the old man's senility most of the time, but he had his brilliant moments once in a while when he didn't have to manage a school full of nasty and hyperactive children, and the expectations of saving the world wasn't on his shoulder anymore.

When he was fifteen and he had just learnt the prophecy involving him and Voldemort, he was angry and demanded that he was left alone, because even if the man killed his parents, he wasn't ready to face someone who was seventy years ahead in spellwork, only to save a bunch of misguided wizards and witches whose alliances were swiftly manipulated by the Ministry. He asked Dumbledore to step in his place and deal with the Dark Lord, but the old man looked at him with his troubled blue eyes and told him that he can't stand in the way of Destiny. Harry broke down and begged to the man to see from his point of view, that if Voldemort didn't know the full prophecy then it might be okay to destroy it or leave it unfulfilled. And Dumbledore just stood there and let him throw a temper tantrum, looking at him with a calm face the entire time. At that moment, he hated the old man.

In those few days he wanted to run away, to leave everything behind, to forget that magic ever existed but he was in knee-deep in the mess and he had to think about his friends and family, and in the end he just couldn't do it. He wouldn't be able to sleep without nightmares if he did that and his friends thought he was going crazy being strung like a bow everyday and getting closer and closer to snapping. And they were close to the truth.

After finding out about the prophecy he spent the next three years training to defeat Voldemort. He now understood that Dumbledore couldn't get him out of his place as the Savior, and he forgave the man who was a savior too, when he had to defeat Dark Lord Grindelwald. So he learnt obscure magic, he studied martial arts, and he left Hogwarts to reach his goal. His reason for living became the defeat of Voldemort. He spent days and nights pouring through magical texts to find some way to end the reptilian man, and one day he decided that it was enough.

Voldemort controlled his life and he wasn't the perfect weapon, and never could be. He didn't like killing, but he did what he had to do in order to get rid of Voldemort once and for all.

It was strange that the idea came to him when he went out to have a night stroll on the school ground. His scheme got stuck in his head and it poked him until he left the library in hurry earning a few questioning looks from the few he passed on his run. He didn't look around and he didn't care anymore.

He apparated to Muggle London, put a glamour on, and went to buy his first gun. He used that gun only once, and then destroyed it.

Voldemort never thought that the Boy Who Lived would stoop so low to use Muggle machinery. And this was the reason why he couldn't do anything when said boy appeared behind him during a skirmish and put a bullet in his brain, molding his chest against the cold back of the Dark Lord and hiding his face from the view. There wasn't anybody who saw his expression when he killed him, but a few spectators woke up years later in the restricted ward of Saint Mungo to a man that screamed and screamed, yelling at the world to stop and to not look into his cold eyes , before hanging himself.

Lord Voldemort was no more and Harry James Potter stood behind him with clean robes and vaguely smelling of gunpowder and smoke.

He didn't smile, he didn't feel relieved, and his shoulder hurt from the recoil. He was surprised a bit that the whole thing worked and thought about having to destroy the gun and he just turned around and walked away, leaving behind shocked Death Eaters before the Aurors arrived and started to arrest the gob smacked terrorists. A few tried to resist but they were reeling from the shock of having their Master die in front of their eyes, sending pain through their Mark and leaving them feeling hollow.

Bystanders claimed that they have seen Harry Potter running around with a gleeful smirk on his face, but he didn't care about having another rumor added to his fame, so he didn't do anything to dissuade them. Only a few muggles saw him ordering a big cup of coffee in a small coffee shop, and they weren't privy about his identity.

Nevertheless, the whole scenario of him killing the Dark Lord cemented the public belief that he shouldn't be trifled with and made his fame skyrocket. Harry Potter just didn't care and he was fine with it.

He started to feel relieved when they celebrated his success within their close-knitted group. His friends didn't abandon him and he thought that he could leave behind the expectations of the Wizarding World once and for all.

He considered settling down and having a family of his own, but he concluded that at the age of eighteen he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, especially after the anti-climatic showdown between him and Tom.

Harry hadn't lived his life for the last eighteen years, and he might have became a couch potato for the next few weeks just to see how their society tries to blame him and crawl out from the mess left behind by Tom's little plan for world domination.

Unfortunately he didn't get the chance to relax because the next day he woke up, nursing the greatest hangover of the world and noticed that his life once again got screwed up when he felt that he was a she.

A little warning would have been nice next time.

But it was a nice day.

Okay, nicer than the last two days in which he had to face the gaping of his godfather, the silence of Dumbledore, the distress of Hermione, a bright red Ron, an upset Ginny and the majority of the Weasley clan staring at him like he grew two heads, instead of two tits.

He honestly couldn't understand what the big shock about his gender change was, but it might have been attributed to him pouring a few Calming Draughts into his first coffee to stop him from freaking out from any small, insignificant problems.

Hm.

He had a strange bad feeling in his chest and he absently rubbed there, feeling up his breasts and wondering how girls managed not to get distracted by them on their person.

Probably because they didn't have a fascination with them and actually had them grow over years and not a night. They had time to get used to them and he was failing to get over the absence of weight between his legs.

It was a strange feeling.

Was it like to others when they lost an arm or a leg? Gaining a phantom 'limb' would give him more trouble than he wanted. Could he even get it from missing his dick?

Probably not.

But he had more stressing problems over the last few days. Like trying to walk normally.

His whole bone structure and body mass changed, his balance was shot, and trying to wrap his feelings about the whole situation was a bad pun.

It was interfering with what he learnt of martial arts, what he picked up through grueling work and sweat and tears.

He couldn't even walk without bumping into things with his hips, falling over his legs, or looking like a duck because his hips tried to sway. He wasn't fond of the motion when it caused him to trip again. He was covered in bruises and he didn't want to see how sloppy his fighting stances and moves became by this handicap.

His sudden clumsiness earned him some laugh from Charlie and he didn't liked to be laughed at by the guy whose lap he have found himself a few times since this change happened.

And the looks he got from his family…

It was pity and sadness, and pity and humor, and pity and astonishment and… have I already said that there was pity in their eyes?

So he left their gazes behind and run away, hiding in the attic and staring at the falling rain.

He was lucky that the weather remained like that.

For some reason after the first initial shock the two girls of his age decided that his accident was actually funny, and they wanted to take him under their wings to introduce him to the wonder of womanhood. And what a funny thing it was…

He spent eighteen years of going to pee like opening his flies then standing before the toilet and aiming with his manhood. Now he had to sit down and pee.

It wasn't a wonder that for the first time when he felt he had to pee he stood there and tried to figure out how to do it, especially when he peed on his legs while standing over the toilet when he tried to do it the old way. He jumped into the shower to rid himself of the smell then Hermione knocked on the door, saying she wanted to speak with him. He quickly finished and grabbed a towel.

His only clue about his mistake was the blush on the girl's face as she tried to loosen the knot on the towel. He was confused for a few seconds, and let her retie the towel, now covering not only his crotch but his bosom too, muttering about modesty and whatnot.

It was all pretty confusing. He should be grateful for Hermione telling him the dos and don'ts of being a girl. It was a crash course and she quickly realized that she needed help with this project. And she found her supporter within the fangirl named Ginny Weasley.

Because Ginny liked the idea of the Hero of the world, but she also knew Harry too. And this made her the perfect candidate for the job.

Once upon a time Ginny tried to seduce Harry. And failed. Repeatedly.

Their relationship got over those times and they retained a flirty behavior on Ginny's side and Harry continued to be obvious to the hero worship around him.

And she enjoyed seeing him squirm while they showed him and told him things that he never bothered with because he was a boy and he didn't have to worry about it too much before.

What did he care about menstruation and all that jazz?

About birth control for women?

About PMS?

About women hygiene?

These sort of things weren't told to little boys in primary school or kindergarten. Most of the boys didn't even need to know about these at all, because to girls their mothers told them at early age and they took care of them and grew up with them.

So Hermione and Ginny took upon themselves to educate him about these things that shall-not-be-named in men's company. And his mind was wobbling under the onslaught of information as he listened to how to use pads and how not to pee and how not to get pregnant and how to shower and what to wash and….

He had to escape from their evil clutches and that was the reason why he hid in darkness with dusty trash around him, drinking a cup of cooling coffee and staring at the rain.

His musings were interrupted by the creaking of the floor.

He looked over his shoulder and saw a sheepish Sirius sneaking up on him, with a mug in his hand.

"So you were moping around here." He said and looked around with raised eyebrows. "You know, this was my hiding place too, when I was little and had to hide from my mother."

Harry watched as the rain slid over the glass, and Sirius took it as an encouragement to continue.

"We are worried about you. You are shutting us out, and you are scaring the girls with your calmness. Is there something we should know about?" he enquired as he stood next to his sitting form.

Harry didn't bother to tell him that this whole situation was so fucked up he didn't even know what to start with.

Sirius sighed and pried Harry's fingers from his empty cup, giving him the steaming mug he carried up.

"If you need anything don't hesitate to call for one of us." He waited for a few minutes to see whether Harry changed his mind, but in the end he sighed and started to trek down the stairs.

In the doorway he saw Remus hesitating on going after him to speak with Harry. He grabbed the werewolf's arm and dragged him away without letting any arguments out of the brown haired man's mouth.

In the kitchen Remus shook himself out of the hold of the ex-convict.

"Sirius! What happened? Why were you so quick and did you told him anything about drugs and the effects? Sirius. Sirius!" Sirius silently laughed at his distress and Remus wanted to strangle his old friend, for his bad sense of humor. The black haired man grinned at him and wheezed from trying to keep in the laugh threatening to tumble out of him.

"Didn't you tell him that we know about him raiding the potions cabinet? Sirius! Sirius, did you tell him anything? Answer me!" he shook the grinning man and Sirius broke down.

"Nope." He said with a Cheshire Cat like grin still on his face. "I didn't tell him anything…" then seeing the rage on the normally placid man's face he quickly added "he will have other problems today."

Remus stared at him, so Sirius explained before he could gather his wits and snap at him.

`"Well… He will find out that he shouldn't trust a marauder enough to drink what said marauder gives him."

"Sirius… you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

In the attic an oblivious Harry took a big sip from his coffee.

When his mug was empty again he heard voices coming up on the stairs and he rolled his eyes at the duo.

"Harry?"

Hermione (or was it Ginny?) asked him from the way in. The next question sounded from his right and he looked up from his crouching position against the window.

"You shouldn't drink so much coffee. Caffeine doesn't do you good."

Hermione chided him, repeating her usual response to his bad habit.

He smiled at her wryly as he was roused by Ginny's arm around his waist.

"What do you want?" he asked them feeling like a parent indulging his daughters. He felt the bad feeling in his chest tighten when the girl grabbed his arm and started to drag him down from the attic. He looked around in worry as they passed closed doors, until they arrived to his room, where Hermione and Ginny tossed him into his bathroom. He struggled to keep his balance and he succeeded in showing of his height, which was reduced by his change. He cursed in his mind as he remembered how happy he was when he had hit his growth spurt and he wasn't shorter than Hermione anymore.

One more thing to remedy if he found out what the hell happened to him… Not if. When. When he finds out.

Ginny and Hermione stood in the doorway, leering at him (or Ginny leering at him and Hermione looking pensive) and there was something in their hands.

"Be a good girl, Harry… It will only hurt if you try to resist…"

Looking for some kind of escape, Harry noted that he was doomed the moment he stepped through the door, if he didn't want to injure the girls.

And he was a gentleman who knew that you don't go around hitting girls.

Even if by some kind of freak accident you were turned into one, it doesn't make you into an exception from the rule.

Even if you were slowly freaking out at the look in their eyes.

Hermione looked at him with a small smile and said to placate her nervous friend. "It's for your own good."

This tidbit didn't make Harry calmer and he wondered about the expiring date of a potion. Maybe it lost most of its effect because he was getting more and more scared and he shouldn't be if it worked properly.

"Strip." Ginny's order was short and straightforward, but Harry looked at her like she was speaking gibberish. The girl put her hands on her hips and told him again. "Strip, Harry. We don't have all day for this."

Harry looked at Hermione and she encouraged him with the motion of her head.

He slowly took of his large shirt, shorts and sit down to get off his socks, but as he reached for the boxers on his wide hips a freckled hand grabbed his and stilled him. Brown eyes stared into his own green ones and his face was burning with embarrassment.

"Mione. You closed the door, right?"

"I did. We won't be interrupted."

With growing apprehension he turned to the brunette witch who was holding up some kind of steaming, brown goo. Ginny held a spatula, stirred the concoction with it, then looked at Harry while her wand in her other hand pointed at him.

"Petrificus Totalus."

Harry immediately felt the Full Body Bind taking control of his body, and he could do nothing as Ginny smeared the goo on his skin. It was hot and he felt his skin burning under it, and he was worried about getting boils under the goo. He tried to break the bind but he felt sluggish and he couldn't dip into his magical core…

And then Ginny tested a patch with her finger on the covered skin and YANKED.

The boy-turned-girl would have screamed, if he wasn't under the curse, as the goo plucked out the hair on his leg. Ginny looked at the brown patch in her hands and threw it away after further inspection.

"Mione, help me, there's more resin in that pot, and Harry still has too much body hair."

The brunette ignored the pleading eyes of her childhood friend and knelt down next to his prone body, using the spatula to cover the skin of his other leg. The two girls worked in tandem as he laid there and tried to think happy thoughts as they rid his ankles from hair, then they went higher and his boxers were rolled up and he was plotting in his head against the two of them and the brown goo of horror.

After his thighs, they turned him over and continued their work. When they finished, his relief was short lived as they started on his armpits and every other body part.

He officially hated being a girl.

"Look Mione. His skin is so smooth…" Ginny cooed from her position straddling him and plucking and shaping his eyebrows.

"He isn't too hairy either."

And Harry was sobbing inside, mourning his manly body hair and wept as his eyebrows were becoming girly.

It was wrong enough that he couldn't grow a beard or some stubble, but to be completely bare and smooth?

It was a blow to his manly pride.

A huge one.

This day couldn't be any worse. But fate showed once again what a bitch she is, when Ginny remarked.

"And when the storm stops we are going shopping. You can't go around in boxers and without a bra. You are distracting my brothers."

Joy.

The brunette stared at him with criticizing eyes and he let the gaze roll over his body. Not that he could do anything about it while he was under the curse.

And why the hell was he still under the curse?

Hermione looked into his eyes and held his gaze for a few seconds before sighing loudly.

"It's unsightly for a girl to run around like that, Harry." Ginny started when she finished and plopped down next to him. "You have to be careful, because your body is a female body now and lots of things change because of that."

"You are probably angry at us for accosting you like that, but believe in us. It's much more hygienic and unproblematic to get rid of the body hair. And it's not permanent."

Hermione's eyes shifted to Ginny who looked away guiltily. Dark brown eyes narrowed as she noticed the shifty way of the redhead's manners.

"Right, Ginny?" Hermione grabbed the pot and stuck her nose in it, taking a deep breath from the still steaming resin. There must be some kind of heating charm on it.

Her eyes grew wide as she dipped her index finger in it and brought it to her eyes, checking its texture.

"Oh, Ginny! You didn't… Did you mixed up the packets?" she asked exasperated.

Ginny's smile showed her annoyance at the accusation of being an idiot who didn't read the label on products.

"Oops."

She looked smug, Hermione didn't look like she was going to scold the redhead, and Harry felt his head throb at the possibility of him being hairless in most places.

The two girls stood up, seeing the body bind slowly getting dissolved. Their friend was slowly gaining the control of his body back and his first words were a threat against them.

"You two have ten seconds to get away."

They risked another look at him, saw his twitching fingers, so they ran to the door and left his room behind as fast as possible. Harry took his time sitting up and moving his toes.

He had prey to catch and he knew better the playground than the two of them together.

He was strolling down the corridor where he saw his laughing godfather and knew that he found out the reason for the failure of the Calming Draught.

Somebody slipped him the antidote.

And for the crime of desecrating his coffee somebody would suffer.

Harry James Potter was on war path, seeking retribution and three people will be covering before him by nightfall.

He stared at the shop window with clear distaste, but he couldn't escape because of the two weights hanging of his arms. He turned his head around and looked at the exit with longing but he was quickly dragged into the shop to buy him some clothes that actually 'fit'. There words, not his.

Harry would have been happy if they could leave him alone to die wallowing in misery, but they are bastards with a hidden agenda at seeing him in inappropriate outfits, so in their mind it was perfectly okay to drag him into the place where most males don't ever go in their entire lifetime… a lingerie shop.

His deer-caught-in-headlights look was quickly noticed by one of the shop assistants and she cheerfully made her way to them. Seeing this, the two girls reattached themselves to his person and once again he was immobile.

"Hello! Can I help you with something?" she asked grinning up at her with hooded eyes. He stared at her and Hermione quickly took the lead.

"Well… my friend here noticed that she filled out a bit and her old clothes don't fit her anymore…"

Harry quickly looked down from the girl's eyes and prayed that she would buy their bullshit. His prayers were answered when the salesgirl looked him over with appraising eyes and nodded.

"Please, follow me to the back it will be more quiet there. Then I can take your measurements." She walked out and they went after her, keeping Harry between the two of them, so he couldn't bolt.

The back of the shop had cubicles and mirrors and there was a small table with measuring tapes too.

"Please take of your shirt and bra and I will try to determine your size."

She told Harry to stand there and lift his arms, and she started to measure him with the tape in different positions.

"Hm. It seems like 34D will be the right one for you."

Harry sure didn't care, but he was getting scared as the girl seemed to touch him a bit more than he thought she should. Even if he was half-bare and she was just doing her job.

"And for your panties… I think size M would be comfortable enough for you. What style would you like? Briefs, boy shorts, or thongs?"

Harry stared at her.

He wanted some kind of undergarment.

He didn't want to know about more of them than was totally necessary.

Did she really ask what did he want?

"She would like boy shorts, some briefs and one or two thongs."

"Hermione!" Harry squeaked, head blazing red, as she went to the front of the shop to select lingerie for him. He dressed up again and followed his brown haired friend, but he was quickly pushed back with a bunch of bras and panties in his arms to go and try them on.

He went into a cubicle and undid the buttons on his shirt and took it off. His breasts almost tumbled out from Hermione's bra, and it felt very uncomfortable. He stared down at the mound next to him and went through them selecting out the few he would consider wearing.

He looked in horror when a red thong with a skimpy bra appeared from the pile and he quickly disposed of them.

He found out the workings of the clip on one and then he tried on a simple black ensemble and stuck his head out to call Hermione. She arrived with a huff and asked him if there was a problem. Her tone almost made him reconsider calling her, but he had to make sure.

"Does it look like how it should look?" he asked as he let her peek inside.

"Yes it looks okay. I'll tell Ginny to stop with that kind of jokes." She said as she pointed at the larger pile with the red thingy. "Give me that pile, I'll take it back."

"Thanks Hermione, you are the best."

He shouldn't have said that to her before seeing her pile, which contained several lacy lingerie sets.

In the end he chose simple bras and boy briefs. And then he found out about the existence of sport bras too. After this revelation he wanted to buy only sporty ones, but he was quickly discouraged by a slap on the back of his head, courtesy of one Hermione Granger.

He didn't know that the girls bought him other kinds too.

He was too preoccupied by sulking.

They went to Harrods, after visiting Madam Malkin's robe shop, for jeans, shirts, skirts and things that a girl might need. They got an entirely new wardrobe for him, not listening to his protests about this whole body business being a temporary problem.

They looked at him with teary eyes (okay, Ginny with teary eyes and Hermione with a stern glare) and told him to shut up, because he was getting new clothes and he should be ashamed that he would dare to argue with them after subjecting them to such a horror a few days ago.

He didn't try to tell them that he was the victim at that time too and that they were to be blamed after that accident.

He was a gentleman through and through, it didn't matter that currently he was a female, and gentlemen don't make girls cry even if they were spawns from hell.

So he endured being their mannequin and let them spend ridiculous amounts of his money, because hey, he was a rich man even if he ignored the fact.

And then the cavalry arrived in the form of a disgruntled Severus Snape wading through racks of women clothing and Harry has never been so happy to see the overgrown bat. (Even if he was still angry at him for collecting fluids from him, and not specifying what kind.)

He stood in front of a half naked Harry and looking away he proceeded to tell them that they had a lead on Potter's little problem. Ginny stopped trying to get Harry in a glittery halter top and Hermione scooped up the selected clothes to pay for them. Ginny happily left the mortified Potter heir, still half naked, with his old professor and skipped to the side of the brunette witch to throw a red dress onto the pile with throwing a wink back to their friend.

Harry was unaware of her actions because he was trying to convince himself that the older man didn't see him in a bra and that he was just imagining the small blush on the face with the crooked nose. He redressed and hoped that he will wake up from this dream, so he could have a good laugh and forget about it.

But poor, little Harry knew that he wasn't dreaming.

Earlier Ginny pinched his ass and it hurt.

End of Chapter 1

AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Reviews are welcomed, we will read and answer to every one of them (me with the help of my lovely beta). :)