Title: Skin Deep [Part Two] Pairing: Free

Series: Set after The Half Blood Prince. Rating: 12 Type: Fanfiction

Summary: Still adjusting to the news that his loved ones are alive… Harry has a few tough alliances to forge… and a lot of steam to blow off! Not a time to be reckless then…

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or anything from the universe of Harry Potter. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to J K Rowling for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()()()()()

The open night seemed to be going quite well. There was a media circus beyond the perimeter of the building, all coverage was focused on Dumbledors return. It was quite spectacular. Barely a week since the Open-day was announced and school had restarted, Dumbledor had sidled into the Great Hall and taken his place as Headmaster. McGonagle had been smiling knowingly. This caused yet more rumours of a message being sent by the Death Eaters and Voldemort… they were prepared for the final stand.

And it was true, Death Eater arrests and captures had risen 25% since the beginning of term. Even Snape and Lupin had returned to teach Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. So, if now was time for a statement, the miraculous return from death was right up there with running butt naked through the Quiddich world cup.

Shuddering at the thought, Harry turned his mind from the image.

Hermione and Ron had been quite nervous about their parents meeting up again now they were an item. But from what Harry observed across the room, the quartet were exchanging enthusiastic handshakes as his two friends scurried off to fetch refreshments.

Harry looked around the hall and his heart felt as if it had received a slow puncture. All around him proud parents were preening over highly embarrassed teenagers. Even Neville, who was currently having invisible dirt removed from his nose with a wet handkerchief, was glad his grandmother had come to the open night.

Hagrid had offered to be Harry's sponsor, but he had graciously declined. Harry was quite used to feeling like this anyway. And the open day was about the future, not dwelling on what might have been if things were different.

He was aware of someone watching him. When Harry turned, familiar eyes sparkled at him through half-mooned glasses. "Harry." Dumbledor smiled. "It is good to see them happy, is it not?"

Harry smiled at his friends. "Yes."

"And what about you Harry? What of your happiness, my boy?"

Harry shrugged, catching sight of Ginny's bright hair in the crowd.

He looked away, turning in time to see Ron's dad rustle his sons crop of flame red hair with pride.

"I know that my parents would have been here. In a way, they still are."

Dumbledor was regarding him with a slight smile. Whatever he was thinking of saying didn't make it through the sudden outburst of coughing.

Harry steadied the elderly man until he was silent. "Would you fetch me some water, dear boy?"

Rushing to the nearest table, Harry brought back a beaker full, to see Dumbledor had seated himself. The older wizard took the cup with a trembling hand. "I'm alright Harry. No need to look so concerned."

"Sorry." Harry hung his head

"Not to worry. Even the great Albus Dumbledor is susceptible to the common cold." he smiled widely. "It would appear to be a determined little virus. Now, I should go back to the obligatory shaking of hands and praising qualities that children's parents never knew they had. It would seem that young master Longbottom is quite the budding tap dancer."

Dumbledor moved off and was immediately enveloped by a wave of eager parents.

Harry decided to return later, once the hall had emptied out a little. The night was thick with heat and there were so many people that he thought no one would notice his absence. Turning out the great hall, he imagined the best place to waste a few hours would be in his common room. He suddenly froze at the sound of familiar voices.

"But father… they can help…"

"No Draco. That is unacceptable. You are a Malfoy." Lucius voice dripped with condescension. "There is only one path for you. Everything hinges on this year. You will not fail me."

The last comment sounded more like an order than a confirmation of faith.

"Yes father." Draco answered miserably.

Harry had heard a rumour that Lucius had been awarded a few hours reprieve from Azkabahn to attend this open-day, even Narcissa had been smuggled back into the country. There had to be something major going on and Harry wished he'd arrived earlier to listen in.

The argument appeared to be over for now and he heard Lucius sharp footfalls and the crack of a cane on the stone floor. However, Narcissa remained in the corridor.

"We really should join the others." Narcissa said quietly.

Harry held his breath and remained absolutely still.

"Hey." Draco's mother lightened her tone. "Hey, my little dragon…"

Harry heard Draco repress an almost tearful giggle.

"That's better." His mother soothed. "Now, you know your father… leave him to me."

"But mum… I don't want to be a -"

"Darling…"

Damn! What was he going to be?

"… trust me. I know how to get around your father."

Harry heard the doors behind him begin to creek open and reacted before thinking. He rounded the corner as naturally as possible. Watching his nemesis leap away from his mothers embrace was quite funny, but Harry tried not to show he's noticed.

Narcissa smiled. It was warm and caring, which made it obvious she was married into the Malfoy family. Her sons face betrayed no emotion, except a vague air of distaste as Harry neared.

Harry nodded politely to Narcissa before realising he should probably address her son. "Malfoy."

"Potter." Draco matched the forced tone in acknowledgement.

"Is Harry Potter one of your new friends Draco?" Narcissa asked.

Damn! Harry thought, drawing to an awkward halt. Draco snapped his head around, disbelief colouring his face.

"Mother, I, this…he...I mean," Draco spluttered in a most un-Malfoylike manner.

Harry put on his best smile and tried not to look at Draco. "Hello Mrs Malfoy. A pleasure meeting you again."

Narcissa's smile deepened. "How charming. Draco speaks of you often Master Potter. I hope you live up to all our expectations."

Not quite sure how to take the comment, Harry continued to fidget with his sleeves behind his back.

"Mother…" Draco started. "We should get back to the others."

With that, the pair headed off down the hall, Narcissas stare lingering until her son dragged her away.

What had that been about? Was Draco being forced to switch sides? Harry hadn't told anyone about the note he had received that first meal back at Hogwarts. Was Malfoy trying to infiltrate them?

Harry still didn't trust the Slytherin completely. Infact, he didn't even trust the Slytherin head-of-house completely. An involuntary shiver ran down Harry's spine at the thought of Snape.

The warm wind picked up slightly, whipping across the window at his side.

Harry was alone, again.

A flash through the glass caught his attention, Harry assumed it was a photographer… but for barely a moment… he could have sworn he'd seen a shadowy dog on the school grounds.

Remembering recent events, he smiled and headed for his dorm room. Perhaps he wasn't as alone as he had thought.

()()()

Harry couldn't believe his luck. Once Open-Day had ended, he'd met Ron and Hermione and the trio made their way through a secret passages and were now standing at the boundary of Hogsmeade.

He couldn't help but grin with excitement. As far as Harry could remember he had never gone out to party in aid of his birthday. Harry tugged at his shirt collar. He didn't know if he was dressed smartly enough. Ron had said smart-but-casual. But there had been a growing warmth in the air for the past few nights, which meant wear a light shirt and loose trousers.

They had also decided that Harry might be a little too recognisable with his scar, so Hermione cast a quick glamour to hide the identifying feature until sunrise. She had also changed his eye colour and fixed it so he wouldn't need glasses.

They were ready for their first night out. Harry tried to remember each detail for future reference.

"Right." Ron closed the space between them, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. "Here's the thing. You have to be eighteen to get in… so, when were you born?"

Harry twisted his face in thought. "1985?"

Ron nodded, "That'll do it." He looked at Hermione.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Could you have worn a shorter skirt?" Ron asked sarcastically.

Hermione scowled. "Well, I'm hoping to trade you in for a better model Ronald Weasily." With that she shrugged past him, giving him a lingering glance over her shoulder.

"Anything else?" Harry brought Ron's attention back to the moment.

Giving a look that seemed as though he were searching the depths of his brain, Ron shook his head. "C'mon." He turned, taking Hermione's hand. He led them through a few trees until they came to a cave near an out crop. With one last glance around, Ron walked into the mouth of the cave… and disappeared.

As did Hermione when she followed him.

Harry came to an abrupt halt. He peered into the cave, but there was no sign of the Gryffindors. Nervously edging in, Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward.

It was like being enveloped. A pounding onslaught of music hugged onto him and drew him from the cold, damp cave into The Underground Club. Ron was nowhere to be seen, but Hermione waited for him. They were on a set of winding stairs. There was a definite feeling of excitement that was setting every part of Harry alight with anticipation. He glanced below them. There was a mass of movement on the dance floor. The bodies all surrendered to the beat of the bass that pounded through their chests as it pulsed through Harry's own. This was nothing like the balls he had attended at Hogwarts.

"What do you think?" Hermione shouted in his ear.

Inaudibly, he shook his head in amazement. "It's fantastic."

Hermione gave him a quick smile. "Come on, Ron's gone to the bar."

This was setting up to be the best night in a long time. Ron had bought them two flagons of mead and Hermione an alco-pop of some form and they made their way to a nearside table. "This is really great."

"What?" Ron yelled at the top of his voice.

"Never mind." To Harry's disappointment, the first flagon of beer lasted only five mouthfuls and the next was gone soon after. Neither of them seemed to have much effect. What was all this fuss about alcohol over anyway? It didn't seem to be affecting him. "I'm going to the bar." He stated, swaying out of his chair, feeling a little further away from the ground than he should be.

He'd never ordered beer before and found it to be harder than trying to snatch the last of the cupcakes at the end of lunch. Anytime he came close to getting the barmaids attention, someone would shout over him and she'd move away. Eventually he was served by a young-looking bar man, who winked and smiled when Harry thanked him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he'd seen a crop of ash-blonde hair. Either that or the mead was making him see things. Harry shook his head and made his way to the table.

Ron and Hermione were wrapped around each other by that point. Harry couldn't restrain a disdainful grimace. Really, I'm made-up they are both happy, but must they be so… public?

Cradling his beer, Harry pondered breaking them apart, then thought if they hadn't noticed him by now, he may as well go for a wander around the club. Finishing his mug he made a detour to the bar then set off round the club.

There were a few students he recognised. Most of them from his year… some of them older, others had left a long while ago. The good thing was the older students wouldn't mention it to the professors, because, really, they shouldn't be off the school premises either. There were as many Gryfindors as Slytherins, Harry noted, with a scatter of Hufflepuff in one corner. By Harry's fifth drink, he noticed the Ravenclaws all seemed to leave, probably for early morning study the next day…

"My, my Potter. You are making a hobby out of following me aren't you."

"Eugh." Escaped Harry's lips before he could stop himself. "Malfoy…what are you doing here?" The words came slowly, and slightly slurred.

"Not being as drunk as you, it would seem."

"And I don't follow you… you're the one that always turns up with me." Harry hadn't quite caught up with the pace of conversation.

"Right." Malfoy drawled, seeming to notice the looks they were getting from passers by. "Where are Granger and Weasel?"

"None of your business. And why are you interested in things anyway? You said you weren't interested and now you are…" Harry angled his bottle at the blonde. "You're always poking your nose in. Leaving notes and such…You -"

"My God, Draco… are you actually talking to that Potter thing?" Pansy Parkinson linked Malfoys arm and hung off him, predatorily pressing her slender form into his side.

"Phft." Harry dismissed the Slytherin girl with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Quite. Run along now Potter. Best not let the love birds get to cosy without you. I'd rather not see that dozy mare bring more filthy Weaselys into this world."

And Harry's last conscious thought for the night was how much he would enjoy crushing Dracos nose beneath his fist.

()()()

Harry moaned at the intrusive light pushing its way through the window. It fell across his eyes and he moaned again, turning away. He was vaguely aware of a terrible groggy feeling in the pit of his stomach. His mouth was dry and tongue fuzzy and tasted slightly like old carpet.

His body moved before the thought registered in his mind. Water. He needed water. Keeping his eyes shut, he found his way into the bathroom and fumbled with the tap. The sound of water falling into the glass brought back thoughts of drunken rants and tears. He threw two glasses of water down his throat and started filling another he recalled his last memory was declaring his love for Ron and Hermione and how he "loves their love" and then there was darkness. He must have passed out.

Keeping his eyes focused on the swirling water, whirl-pooling down the basin was doing nothing to help the churning in his stomach. Gripping the basins edge, he doubled over. He really did feel strange. Not too surprising after the amount of alcohol he'd drank.

A startled shout brought him back to reality. He whirled around, perhaps a little too quickly than his current state would allow.

It was Ron. He was bracing himself in the doorway of the bathroom with an unsteady hand. The red-head blushed slightly, sapphire eyes wide. Harry thought about how much of a mess he must look.

"Who… who are you?" Ron asked.

"I know… I look like hell…" Harry started to move toward him. "Don't start."

Ron edged back.

"Thanks for bringing me back."

"I didn't bring you back." Ron said quickly, glancing behind him to make sure no one else was listening.

"Are you feeling alright Ron?"

"I'm fine." Ron said, stepping back again. "Who are you?"

"Very funny." Harry wasn't really sure of what Ron was playing at, but the sickening feeling was coming back again. "I'm not really in the mood. You bought me one too many drinks."

All the colour was draining from Ron's face, but Harry was far too distracted to notice.

"It was the best birthday ever… but, that's the last time we go to that club, ok?"

"Harry?" Ron asked, amazed at the name.

"What?" Harry snapped, irritation marked clearly in the word.

"Have you looked in the mirror?"

Wincing, Harry let out a disgusted, "Eugh." sound. "No thanks. If I look the way I feel… I'd rather not."

Ron patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "I… I really think you should."

Too groggy to argue, he let Ron turn him back into the bathroom. It took a while for his eyes to adjust… his eyes… they seemed slightly bigger… the eyelashes thicker. In fact, rather than his usual angular appearance his face seemed softer. More feminine. Still not quite able to process the information his eyes were providing, he tugged a long crop of hair from his shoulder. His hair had mystically grown over night. It had done this once before, when Aunt Marge gave him a crew-cut he hated and the next day it had grown back to its usual length (almost by magic). But he didn't recall a desire to have his hair fall past his shoulders, almost touching his…

Harry gaped. "Oh…" was all he managed. He looked desperately at Ron, who seemed just as distressed as he was…

()()()

"My God Harry… you're a girl."

"Oh, good, I thought nobody would notice." He huffed as Hermione entered the room, throwing her books and bag on the nearest desk.

Ron had smuggled Harry out of the Gryffindor boys dorms and stowed him in one of the Charms classrooms before going to find Hermione. In the twenty minutes he had been gone, Harry hadn't moved. He was overwhelmed. You had to admit, it wasn't everyday that you woke up and had switched from one sex to the other.

"Well, it could be a transfiguration spell." Hermione suggested, walking straight up beside him and stroking his long hair.

Harry couldn't repress a grin, regardless of this current predicament. Good old Hermione, always straight to business. It had taken him and Ron about ten minutes to form words, but Hermione was already trying to find a solution.

"When did you notice this… change."

"Woke up this way." Harry shrugged.

Hermione's brow furrowed. She was either thinking very hard or very worried. "Well, do you recall leaving your drink at all last night?"

Shrugging again, "To tell the truth I don't really recall much past telling you both I love you."

Hermione gave Ron a quick glance, then headed back to her writing pad and started scribbling. Ron moved toward him.

"That was close to midnight. But we stayed out until about two."

Harry found that quite worrying. He couldn't recall two hours of the night. "What happened?"

Ron glanced again at Hermione. "Well… you tried to pick a fight with Malfoy, but he was dragged away by Pansy…"

Thinking about how unimpressed Malfoy had seemed to be out with her in the first place, Harry thought that Pansy dragging him away from a fight was probably an excuse to hide his rivals natural cowardice.

"…Hermione got hit on by half the club, you threw up more than your body weight in the toilets and we hijacked the DJ's microphone and sang We are the Champions."

"An eventful night." Harry concluded.

"Yeah." Ron grinned. "It was good." Then he frowned. "You know… till you were a girl… you have a really good singing voice though."

"Excuse me…" Hermione took control of the spiralling conversation. "but shouldn't we be trying to figure out why you're… well… female."

Planting his hands firmly on his hips, Harry huffed. "Sorry, I forgot how incredibly disturbing this has all been. You know… for me."

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "Ok, well… if it's a transfiguration spell a simple reversal spell should fix it, if not I'm sure Professor Sprout has some spare mandrake -"

"And if it's a curse?" Ron asked. "Because you know that this just smells of Malfoy and -"

"One thing at a time Ronald." Hermione cut him off, exasperated. She turned back to Harry and asked gently. "Are you ready?"

With an affirmative nod, Harry readied herself. Defiantly swooping her hair back over his shoulder. He planted her feet and took a deep breath.

Hermione brought her wand down with a muttered charm.

Harry didn't open his eyes for several seconds. "Has it worked?"

When he looked at his two friends. They both gave each other a worried look, then Hermione cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should go to the teachers."

This was something Hermione didn't think she could handle? Not good.