Disclaimer: Don't own HP. Don't own SPN. Don't own GC Rules. Feel better? Cause I do. :)

Pairings: Dean/Harry (main) and Sam/Harry (side)

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

Betas: FEARMEfrancis and Rune the Secret Child (Thanks for their patience, you two are the best :D )


Chapter 2: "Damn."


"If you just met a guy and know absolutely nothing about him, but need to refer to him during 'girl talk' you use one example of who he is, something he has, or what he does, and he becomes... that guy." /Girl Code Rule 3/


The room was a bit stuffy.

It wasn't the fluffy carpet's, the tinkering gadgets', the mumbling portraits' or the massive desk's fault. No, they added a nice touch to the otherwise cold room made of stone.

The atmosphere was suffocating at the best and the occupants were sweating in their seats, staring at the sole reason of the oppressive air around them. Someone looked like he was going to faint, but he wasn't important because the Ministry would know not to send someone so fainthearted to help out them, but they really could have at least tried to show that they are not a bunch of insane wizards and witches.

Never mind that most of them cracked under the pressure of being a prime target of the Death Eaters, and let's not forget about the pressure of teaching underage kids how to handle a dangerous weapon, which was given into their hands the age of eleven by their parents who insisted that they have to be treated with carefulness and they shouldn't ever know about the power in their hands.

A swish, a flick and an incantation. Those were the basics of casting the first charm everyone learnt in their first year.

Wingardium Leviosa.

Arduus means high or steep, levo means to raise up or levitate, and the wing portion of the incantation seems specific to feathers. It was one of the simplest spells and first years were taught by using feathers.

But even this spell could be dangerous with the proper intentions and the right amount of magic backing it up.

Over the seven years of schooling in Hogwarts a child learns more than a few hundred spells to alter their surroundings and to change things without taking into account the basic laws of physic. Most of them didn't even know about the laws of the universe taught by muggles.

In their school years not only they learn spells, but techniques too, even if the material that teachers are expected to teach gets more watered down year by year because of the low standards of the Ministry. The sad reality is that most students don't bother to put just a little bit work into their study outside the curriculum because they continue to struggle with living up to the low expectations of the average course.

It was really sad how far the once powerful wizards have fallen.

But it was still about control.

More magic needed stronger control.

And there weren't too many wizards above the average, but they still could be dangerous even with their lack of knowledge.

Especially with their lack of knowledge.

Even a simple cleaning spell could be used to murder someone as it was shown through history by a few Light Lords who didn't want to dirty themselves by using dark magic.

Spells could be used to harm others, to heal others, to protect others.

Magic could be the biggest guns in someone's weapon arsenal. They only needed to learn two words and with the proper aim they could kill another human being without leaving behind any traces. And this was something that shouldn't be forgotten.

Especially when you are in a room full of angry witches and wizards and you are the bringer of bad news.

The saying goes: don't shoot the messenger. In this case you should hope that they know the saying and won't harm you, who brought the bad news upon them.

But you have to remember that wizards and witches aren't the most cool-headed bunch in these times.

And some of them weren't even too calm at the beginning...


The ministry official stared in awe at the legends before him.

He would never have thought that he will get this close to the Albus Dumbledore or the Harry Potter.

Even if both of them were a bit different from the photos in the Prophet.

Even if the young Potter chose a slightly unusual way of defeating the Dark Lord.

Even if the Light Lord had a rather strange twinkle in his eyes.

However they were there standing before him and that was what counted in his mind. His heroes…

His musings were interrupted by a huge sneeze from the older one of said heroes. Harry distracted by his own hiccups offered him a tissue which he gracefully accepted and blew his nose in, then proceeded to throw it away.

Before it reached the ground, it evaporated in a flash of fire.

Fawkes cooed from his perch and Snape threw disgruntled gaze toward the phoenix as the bird looked him in the eye and they started a strange contest which resulted in twitching on Snape part and a smug look from Fawkes at his twitching form. The firebird didn't need to blink as much as Snape apparently did, but Snape was stubborn and he decided to win the challenge posed by the damned bird.

Minerva just watched their match and contemplated summoning a house-elf for some crackers. She found the snack strangely addicting and they went well with her afternoon tea and ginger biscuits. She wanted to chew on something… maybe she needed to eat some grass because it felt like a giant fur ball was trying to crawl up from her stomach.

Sirius was thinking about running around in his animal form instead of sitting in this stuffy office. He wanted to go out and roll in that puddle of mud he saw from his seat and he wanted to gnaw on big, juicy bones while he let the beautiful ladies scratch his ears and pat his stomach. Spending twelve years in Azkaban obviously didn't help his mental state and sometimes he was caught staring into the distance with blank eyes and a creepy smile. Those who have seen this never told him about his deranged look or the fact that they were quite disturbed after seeing his episodes.

Hermione was staring at Harry with an intense gaze. She looked at him like he was a rare magical book which contained the secret of life and Harry would have been very nervous if he noticed her concentration on his person, but he was too preoccupied with hoping to stop the contradictions of his diaphragm with sheer willpower and holding his breath.

The ministry official has been waiting for their attention in the last few minutes, but the occupants didn't seem to have taken notice of him. They were busy with their thoughts and he was a wallflower in all aspects. He was such an uninteresting individual that he wasn't even surprised about not being listened to.

Then the heavenly light shined at him through the visage of one Remus Lupin. The sand-haired man with the gauntly frame and pale skin was an angel in werewolf skin to the poor, underappreciated official.

"Ah Mr. Turpenter! We are so happy that the Ministry sent someone so capable to help us with this problem." The man looked at him with glistening eyes and Remus continued with a small, charming smile on his face which made the younger man blush and reduce him to a stuttering mass. "Could you start the briefing with the Ministry's revelations?"

"Oh… yeah… I mean…" Remus grin grew in size and he congratulated to himself for further embarrassing Fudge's underling. There was a reason why was he a marauder when he was younger and it could be attributed to his vindictive nature. He showed no mercy to fools who made his life so much harder because of his furry, little problem and he had a brilliant mind to play the innocent card most of the time. Sirius perked up feeling the dark aura coming from his closest friend and he forgot about his daydream and focused on the unsuspecting minion with rising glee.

"Yess… Mr. Turpenter… tell us all about it." He purred as he leaned toward his fellow in crime. The game was on and Sirius wasn't to be outplayed by his normally mild-mannered friend.

The descending of the two roused Harry's attention and he watched the unfolding events with raised eyebrows.

His interest only fueled the competition between Sirius and Remus as they didn't want to be seen as soft by James' only child.

So they did what they could do and made the conversation as interesting as they could.


"So… Let me sum up what you said…" a calm voice started after two hours of listening to the stuttering of Turpenter. "It seems like… my change was complete. The full body scan says I have the full reproduction system of a woman, with the necessary hormones and body parts. Nothing abnormal for a normal girl in my age. I still have my scars and I didn't become perfect in health." The official nodded.

"But the scans of my magical core showed an interesting… what was the word you used… ah, I think I got it! Thread, right?" the official nodded again with more vigor, just happy to listen to his hero.

Harry was a tad uneasy because of the near hero-worship on the man's face, who was at least a decade older than him, but he continued without a hitch.

"Which must have been very time-consuming and nerve-wracking to find, out of all the other connections between my magical core and soul… and it must have taken several weeks for the Unspeakables to retrace all of them baring all of my secrets and desires to an entire squad of strangers. Funny thing that is. Makes a guy want to go homicidal, don't you think Mr. Turpenter?" Harry asked with a kind grin on his face as his eyes were screaming about getting retribution later. He won't forget about it even if they helped him for now.

The official nodded even if he looked a bit confused because of the dark mood coming from the still smiling Boy Who Lived. He didn't dare to speak in fear of angering further him.

"So, putting that aside, their scans showed that this thread doesn't have an end connected in my near vicinity. So they managed to somehow follow my magical signature which was mixed with some other power and they couldn't identify the owner or owners. They managed to track them until they lost it somewhere in a freaking desert in America…" the official nodded like his life depended on his performance. "And for some reason they can't get a clear reading of it, so they want to go and investigate."

The man seemed to consider his words, his hands twitched before he lifted one of them which made him seem like he was asking for his teacher's attention. McGonagall smiled thinly, unseen by the others except the strange eyes of Dumbledore.

"Mr… Ms… Potter, Harry, sir… I mean Madam…" he started, then seeing the sharp, green eyes focusing on him, he let out a squeak and jabbered the rest. "N-n-no, not the ministry… we can't send a squad to the USA without expressive permission from the government there, which wouldn't be granted because they are strictly against our kind of magical community as they are still very… uncivilized."

"So how do you plan to investigate?" Harry was incredulous and started to reconsider his opinion about the Ministry being slightly less dunderheaded since Fudge was replaced. They were still morons through and through and he had a feeling in his gut that the answer wouldn't be to his liking.

"The Ministry's debts were paid by the usage of the Unspeakables."

Was that statement supposed to be enlightening?

Because Harry didn't understand anything about it.

But to Sirius they seemed to have some meaning if the slack jawed expression on his face was any indicator to that. "The Ministry thinks that they paid up for the defeat of Lord Voldemort by deploying the Unspeakables?"

"The employment of the Unspeakables is not to taken lightly Mr. Black! They are an elite group of fighters and researchers, the best our community can offer and it's highly unthinkable to deploy them for someone's personal reason, even if said person is an icon of light!"

"In the opinion of the Ministry the defeat of the Dark Lord is equivalent to employ a unit once?" Sirius repeated his question with a slight change, but his voice still uncomprehending and disbelieving as he leveled a glare at the younger man.

"Not only once. They had been investigating for the last two weeks. That exceeded our debt toward Mr. Potter." To Harry that sounded a bit sulky, but he wasn't fit to evaluate the sanity of the Ministry worker.

Sirius huffed and looked Harry in the eye. "Makes me think you should have let the Dark Lord remain alive, so the highly looked upon and trained Unspeakables and Aurors could take care of him instead of bothering you and alluding to that shitty prophecy made by the owl in the tower."

Mr. Turpenter sniffed and turned his head away while gathering the stack of scrolls he brought with himself.

As he was reaching for the scroll holding all the collected information, a pale hand shot out and grabbed him by his wrist. He squeaked and whirled around to look at his assailant.

Remus Lupin most of the time wasn't an intimidating man, he actually preferred to be looking harmless in front of others and this usually made others forget about him being a known werewolf in public and lower their guards around him. The official has never seen a werewolf outside the textbooks and he was charmed previously by the kind and handsome fellow he portrayed, so he was more than a little surprised when he saw the feral smirk on his face and his honey brown eyes being replaced by cold, gold eyes with slitted pupils.

Turpenter stared into the eyes of the wolf, not knowing about his action being a direct challenge for a dominance fight, as his brows matted with newly shed sweat. He could feel the perspiration on his back, sliding down into his pants, feeling the threatening atmosphere around himself. He quickly broke his staring contest with Remus and tried to tug his hand out of the steel like grip with no avail.

Remus feeling a bit satisfied with the unknown submission of the official let go of his wrist after giving it a hard squeeze, leaving behind a darkening bruise. "Leave the data." He ordered before he sat back into his seat with a mighty huff.

Mr. Turpenter ran from the Headmaster's office like he was hunted by a pack of ravenous carnivores.

Harry and the rest thought that they will never see the man again. They were probably right, as in the next few days Mr. Turpenter's name was a part of the obituary in the Prophet. He was mauled by a pack of angry dogs in outer London.

After the official took his leave the remaining members sat heavily in their chairs or stood in their respective places. The silence was suffocating as they lulled over their next actions with dread on some faces.

Harry sighed as he leaned back into his armchair, intertwining his fingers and propping up his arms on the armrests. The springs creaked under his weight and the noise made a few heads spin around to stare at him for disturbing them in their thoughts. He smirked slightly at their disgruntled faces and resisted to show a grin full of teeth because he feared the consequences of an immature move like that.

"It seems like I'm going to the USA."

The volume in the room suddenly increased as the professors, his family and friends started to talk at the same time, yelling over each other to make him listen and rethink his idea. He let them yell for a few minutes and he contemplated whether or not should he take his old clothes or dare he say it, his new ones or what should he pack. He briefly thought about casting a Silencio or getting a volume-control.

Dumbledore was the first to sit back, followed by Hermione, Remus, Severus, McGonagall and then Sirius. Harry checked a clock on the fireplace and noticed that they only needed seven minutes to realize that he didn't hear anything from their arguments.

He was impressed.

And annoyed at them for trying to undermine his foolproof plan.

But he could be as stubborn as a mule and no amount of begging will change this part of his personality.


Sirius was trying to be as unhelpful as he could be, and he had to lock him in his room to prevent him from attaching himself to his legs and not letting go, bawling about him being unfair and cruel, going away without his godfather's protection.

He didn't feel particularly cruel or unfair, but this was his immature godfather he was talking about and Sirius was prone to become bit too emotional and clingy from time to time. The time spent in Azkaban away from human contact, and his upbringing probably nurtured his need to reassure himself through touch, to find comfort and make up for the years he had been neglected as a human being.

At least Ron wasn't after his hide like the others.

The red head was embarrassed first, seeing his best friend's venture into womanhood, but he quickly realized that despite Harry losing his manly parts he was the same person he befriended in first year. He was one of the few people who really knew him and could see behind the prickly exterior he showed most of the time.

And Harry knew Ron too. He knew that he will never be betrayed by him and he could always count on his friend as a brother or a close confident if he had troubles.

The Weasleys were his family too, but none of them were as close to him as Ron was.

And he was too preoccupied at the time to try to change Harry's mind about travelling to the USA alone, because he was too busy bending double over his schoolbooks to appease his mother.

"You know mate, I would go with you, but Mom has been on my case since last year and she would skin me alive if I checked out like Fred and George did… You are my best mate, but I fear my Mum a bit much more than I'm afraid for you. Sorry dude, go and have some fun."

Hermione was a harder nut to crack. She was sure that he wasn't safe to go without one of them. But she already decided that she was going back to Hogwarts and finish her last year properly instead of completing the NEWTs.

She believed that spending one year at Hogwarts would benefit her; not only the vast library, the knowledge of the professors, but the social relations with her peers could help her once she tried to get into the Ministry and change it from the basics.

She had big dreams and a strong will to fulfill them.

What happened with Harry was unfortunate, but not as important as her dreams were to Harry. He would do everything to see her happy and she couldn't be happy if she had to run away to the USA for some unknown threat and put her ambitions on hold. She also wouldn't be happy if he leaves, but he had to do something about his transformation, because it's killing him to sit down and do nothing.

He was also relieved that she was torn between wanting to go with him and stay there, because it meant that he could make a decision and not get her into some kind of dangerous adventure.

She would be safe and cared for and Harry was pleased to see that she caved when he laid out to her everything. She thought he was such a sweet kid for worrying about her so much and was persuaded to think of him as a responsible adult by his smooth presentation.

"Oh you can be such a cutie. I'm so proud of you Harry! I think the best would be if you came back to Hogwarts with me and finished your last year… Look what good it did to your vocabulary to read all those books…"

Harry just congratulated to himself by managing to manipulate the smartest witch in their year and hoped that she won't reconsider and change her mind again.

Seeing the united front of Remus' and Sirius', the remaining Weasleys decided that the problem was covered up by the two men and didn't bother Harry too much except the occasional remarks at dinner, breakfast, lunch, when they run into him or when he stepped out of his room or when he was in the library, lobby, living room…

They were just friendly reminders and Harry started to contemplate using a restraining spell against them if they didn't leave him alone.

They didn't, so he locked himself into his room.

Updating the room with several bolts and chain locks were a good idea and he pushed his trunk to the door to barricade himself away. He shot a fleeting glance to the big drawer, but he quickly changed his mind about moving the heavy furniture across the room, with the floor covered by rugs just waiting to be bunched up and for him to trip in them. He also lacked the necessary brute power to move the thing freely.

Once upon a time Ron told Hermione to stop thinking like a muggle and use her wand. Harry sometimes forgot that he was a wizard and sometimes he deliberately acted like a muggle.

Like when he was starting to learn martial arts. Or the workings of a gun.

He wasn't a genius or a seer capable of predicting the future. He didn't have mad skills in most things and he wasn't a magic spawn of Merlin himself.

He was powerful in his own way and he didn't like to be compared to Dumbledore or Voldemort. It felt like they were making fun of them when he was hailed to the same level as him, because he didn't have the control like they did to become a Lord of their standing.

He didn't like the expectations placed on him by others.

If he followed them like a good little puppy he would be long dead.

He would have been an idiot to go against a wizard with seventy years worth of experience with magic and expect to come out victorious.

Gryffindor bravado?

He wasn't full of that. The hat wanted to put him into Slytherin, so he felt entitled to shatter the public images of him becoming their valiant white knight against the Dark Lord and make them rethink it again.

He was no Golden Magical Boy of the light. There was something in him that many witches and wizards lacked around him.

Common sense.

And strangely his common sense liked to keep him alive and kicking, so he quickly forget about being a martyr for the Wizarding World and do the sensible thing and ensure his survival.

Hit with the least expected weapons.

And that was the start of a long procedure which made him set apart from the traditionalists. And it put a rift between him and his peers, but he became attached his newfound freedom and pursued it relentlessly.

It was one of the reasons which made him decide to go alone to the USA.

He contacted a branch of the USA government secretly in the cool silence of his room, through mail post as the continent wasn't installed into the floo network. He had to wait several days to get an answer from them and he noted that something should be done about this problem, but he wanted to wait for their response before doing anything more.

The first few letters went ignored and by the fifth one he got a snappy reply about the charges of impersonation. He sat on the windowsill in his room and the letter lay forgotten on his bed.

He was getting a bit annoyed…


That night at dinner he was ambushed by his friends' goodwill.

One minute he was happily munching on a chicken leg and the next he was interrogated by the others about his plans. He wasn't amused at all as he watched his food getting colder and colder as the questions kept coming.

The scattered remains of the chicken seemed to call him in a singsong voice and he could feel his mouth water from the smell of the chocolate cake wafting to his nose. He was hesitating between attacking the mashed potatoes and the peas. He ogled the slices of melon and the pickled cucumber.

Seeing his distraction – which wasn't very hard to notice as he stopped trying to answer to the onslaught of questions and then he was just staring vacantly at the dishes with a growing creepy smile – he was on the other end of a lecture.

From Sirius.

Which was ridiculous in every respect, as he wasn't the most responsible individual, but he was the only one relatively unscathed by Harry's temperament and he was old enough to know better, but too childish to care about the dangers of baiting the sleeping dragon.

In this case the dragon was daydreaming and perfectly content with snapping a few necks if disturbed.

Harry's eyebrow ticked as he was dragged out from his happy place and the idea of banging someone's head into the wall sounded too inviting.

Before he was tempted to resort to violence he pushed his chair aside and stood up, revealing his not too awe-inspiring 5"4 frame. Needless to say Sirius didn't start to tremble in his boots; neither had he stopped his rant. Harry did the most responsible thing he could and walked out on him, only shouting back when he was standing before the covered portrait of Walburga Black.

"Screw you Sirius Black!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Get back here Harry!"

"Meaning I don't want to hear more of your tirade! So leave me alone and bug someone else about responsibilities."

Lady Black started to scream in her spot on the wall. As the volume grew, the frame shook until the material covering it fell to the floor.

"It's childish to walk away from an argument like that!"

"Sorry, I haven't noticed that we are having an argument. It seemed like a one-sided fight with you as the only participant."

"And are you alright with that?" shrill voice from behind him and Harry turned a bit to look into the painted grey eyes of the Pureblood.

"What?" Harry asked eloquently, feeling confused about the portrait's interference.

"You little halfblood! I was talking to my disgraceful son and you have no business in our conversation."

Harry didn't need an 180 to see his godfather slink away and leave him to argue with the conceited portrait. He didn't care because he found a new stress-reliever.

"You bitch, I can't believe you! How can you preach about blood relation and status when you disowned your own son? I can't even fathom the way you dare to butt into other's conversation when you are just a painting on the wall! Do a favor everyone else and shut up for a few minutes before I fry you so your own parents won't recognize your freaking portrait!"

"How- How dare you? You filthy child, how dare you speak to me in that way? Have you parents ever taught you the proper way to address those who are above you, young girl?"

"Oh, stuff it old hag where the sun doesn't shine…"

And the screaming match between the portrait and the boy-turned-girl went on and on.

Sirius and the rest of the house congratulated to themselves for finishing operation Make-Harry-Lose-Some-Steam and proclaim it a success.

Who was the one who came up with the shitty name?

Some said it was Sirius. Some said it was Remus. Some said it was the twins.

No matter who did it, the house was full of pranksters, so there wasn't any need to worry about long-lasting damage… Right?

And with this Operation Guilt-Trip-Harry was launched a few hours later.

And who was the best man to do it if not Sirius Black, ex-convict, Marauder extraordinary?


Harry heard a chuckle from behind and felt the body heat of another against his skin. Arms wrapped around his torso and the pressure on the top his head came from someone's chin. As a warm chest covered his back he smelled his godfather's cologne and he relaxed in the hold.

Deep laughter resonated through him and Sirius shook attempting to stop it from emerging. He lost the battle and Harry started smiling as he let the barking like sound envelope them.

He felt calmer from hearing it and he was suddenly struck with worry that he managed to hurt his godfather in some way when he argued with his mother's portrait. The notion made him feel small and he burrowed deeper into the warm embrace.

"So… Did it feel good to vent a bit with my mother?" Sirius asked after he calmed down, but Harry could imagine the smile on his face.

Harry looked at his shoes and he was struck with the realization that he acted like he was in a bad soap opera; screaming, running out and acting like a five-year-old, instead of being the responsible adult he claimed to be. He blushed a horrible shade of red and opened his mouth to apologize.

As if sensing the direction his thoughts took, Sirius squeezed him a bit and started to speak again. "Yeah, it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but we had been nagging you in the last few days and it was bound to come down to something like this. It could have been a lot worse… all that pent up aggression…"

Harry made a noncommittal sound and Sirius continued.

"Don't bottle up everything or you have to start befriending wrinkles." He joked, but turned relatively serious. "Fuck. I'm not… Okay. I should ask you to go to Remus for this parenting talk, but I know you wouldn't. Don't even try to deny it!"

Harry decided to shut up before he even opened his mouth.

"You can go to the USA alone... without chaperones. You can have your alone time and you can have a little fun, before you find the one who did this to you. Don't try to interrupt me."

Harry shrugged as he could while being encased by long arms.

"I will take this as a yes. So, you only have to promise one thing. One simple thing and you are free to go."

Harry tensed up and Sirius quickly continued their 'conversation'.

"If there is a problem or someone is giving you a hard time or you are in trouble. You call me. You won't forget about informing us or we might show up one night and drag you home. Don't harrumph me. You are my kid, I feel responsible for you and it's only because of my awesomeness that you are able to go to the other side of the Great Pond without any guardians. I trust you to act like a responsible adult."

Harry was touched by this declaration even if he felt like wringing his godfather's neck… just a bit… to hurt him… just a little.

"But there is something you have been neglecting in the last few days."

Harry turned in his hold and peered up at him with an asking glance and Sirius seemed happy to comply with the unsaid request.

"You are good with magic, even if sometimes you have problems. You are a walking dictionary of rituals, spells and potions, so I don't worry about magical beings hurting you. But muggles are just as dangerous but I don't have to remind you, right?"

Harry shook his head and stepped out of the hug.

"In the last weeks I haven't seen you practice your… what was it called again?"

"Judo Sirius. It's called judo."

"You haven't practiced judo. Lets face it with the change your body went through you are out of sorts."

"I'll practice if that's what you want…"

"Not only that. I know that you contacted the embassy. We will help you with that, but I insist you get a permit for carrying a gun. I won't let you go without one of your little machines. Legally if it's possible."

"Uhm… I think for that you need another kind of permit…"

"Well, don't you think it's time to check up on these things?"

"Do I really have to?" he whined, but Sirius heard enough of it to last a lifetime, so he was kind of immune to it.

"Research won't do itself and you need something to do before you make me go crazy in the next 24 hours."

"I don't think the Black library has anything on muggles…"

"You know kid, there is something called public library you should check it out sometime. Awesome place that is, full of books and those buzzing white machines…"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Sirius vowed to stop acting vaguely like an adult. It was seriously cramping his image as the Great Marauder.


The whole house seemed less dreary and more cheery.

Felt like everyone was a part of a giant conspiracy.

Led by Sirius.

Yes, the whole idea sounded like a hoax to Harry too.

It was idiotic to think that Sirius – Sirius – would be capable of thinking up plans of this magnitude… Right?

Upstairs Sirius sneezed under the shower as he reached for the soap. He cursed a little, and then cursed more when it slipped from his fingers. He chased the slippery soap around and fell on his butt a few times as the tub became slicker and slicker.

Hermione and Ron were studying in their room, working on their summer homework and the essays they skipped during the year to show the professors that they could handle the workload of the seventh year they have to face in a month and they will not lag behind because they missed out on the basics.

Ginny was out with Fred and George, Remus went to the Ministry to speak with Kingsley and Arthur was at work. Molly spent her time in the kitchen, levitating pans and pots to the stove as the sponge cleaned the dirty plates from breakfast and a large knife was cutting up vegetables in rapid succession.

Dumbledore was at Hogwarts with Minerva and Severus as they were holding staff meetings for the upcoming school year. Since the fall of Voldemort, Hogwarts population seemed to have grown again, because the parents felt safe leaving their children to the only establishment which hadn't fallen under the Dark Lord's hands. So the teachers were running on little to no sleep and they were a bit too cranky to leave the staff room for more than a few minutes in order to finish everything for the start of the school year.

Harry obvious to all was packing in his room. He was contemplating asking for Sirius' bottomless bag, when he felt something warm sliding down his thighs. At first he didn't bother himself about it, because he thought he was only imagining the sensation.

He was reaching for his boxers – because he would be damned if he didn't bring several with himself - when he felt his skin crackle in a vaguely painful way. He looked down and felt his eyes widen.

"Damn… That's gonna be a bitch to get out of the carpet."


He sat in a small, plastic chair in the office of MLE in Salem, Oregon, USA.

He arrived few hours ago with an international portkey and since then he has only seen the four walls surrounding him.

They weren't even pretty walls. Painted a fugly shade of green and they had dents and cracks in them too. There was a small couch which must have seen better days and was filled with papers and books and various broken things.

He was thinking about scooting as far as he can with his plastic chair from the pile, but watching a green mould gain life in front of his eyes on the cushions can do that to a person.

He looked to the side and saw the strange brown and yellow plant and decided to remain where he is when it shot out from its stupor and caught a fly in flight.

The carnivore plant chomped on the remains and Harry had the disturbing idea that it was grinning at him as he finished devouring the large, innocent pest. Harry gulped and started to watch the mold and the plant in turns from the corner of his eyes.

He was showed into the room upon arriving and there wasn't anybody who ventured there. The door was closed and he was stuck there for hours and hours and he was bored out of his mind.

So far his trip was awfully… dull.

He got on his feet and marched to the door, evading the snapping of the flower and the reaching white fuzzy hairs of the mould, and opened it with great vehemence.

The area was void of intelligent human life.

There was only a drooling young girl watching some kind of show in TV and Harry wasn't about to disturb her, but he wanted answers and he wanted them now. He looked around and there wasn't anyone with whom he could talk, so he checked the inside of the puke-green room, but a mysterious appearance of a random stranger or pointer didn't happen so he had no choice but to take his chances with the Barbie-clone.

He walked over and cleared his throat, but the girl watched her little cartoon about… ponies?

What the hell…

Okay, he was seriously scared now and started to inch back to the fugly room when she let out a few giggles and her eyes zeroed on his retreating form. He froze and she turned back to her cartoon. He let out a sigh and took another step back when a voice whispered in his ears, before a heavy hand settled on his right shoulder. "Gotcha."

Harry let out a manly shriek and grabbed the offending appendage, then proceeded to throw the stranger over his shoulder and put his leg against said man's neck. He put a little pressure on the throat and got a gurgled sound coming from under him as he was trying to calm his racing heart.

The guy on the floor went limp and made a soothing noise from deep in his chest.

"That's what you get for scaring girls…" came a bored voice from Harry's left and his brain recognized her as the pony girl. She looked down with savage eyes and pushed Harry a little, making him lose his balance and fall to his ass next to the wheezing guy.

The guy sat up and smiled at them with an unassuming grin on his face.

Then there was a few voices coming from the entrance and several people came into the deserted hallway. The first ones looked at their trio in surprise then went to do their jobs.

A few minutes passed and the office filled with the pleasant buzz of working and the low sound of chatting.

Harry was blushing by that time and rose with help from Mr. Gotcha. He patted his white button-up shirt and jeans and he looked up to see pony girl going back to her big chair.

The guy just stood there before him with an embarrassed blush on his face and scratched the back of his head while looking anywhere but at Harry.

A woman in a smart grey suit approached the red faced duo and looked at them with a frown on her face. The whole office quieted down when she got near them.

"Mr. Brown. It shows extreme rudeness to act like that with a guest. Consider yourself rebuked and check in with Mr. Longshaw for the appropriate… punishment for your inappropriate actions toward Ms…?" she looked at Harry with a questioning look and Harry felt like he was standing before a younger McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter." He told her with trepidation and she took it in stride and continued. "For your utterly inappropriate actions toward Ms Potter." She looked at Harry with calculating eyes and snapped at the hesitating form of her subordinate. "Do I have to tell you twice, Mr. Brown? Go!"

He scurried away and she indicated to Harry to follow her.

On their way she lashed out again and told the whispering crowd to get back to their work if they wanted to have their job next day too.


Harry was led to a large office in a very famous building, Oregon State Capitol.

Not that Harry knew the name of the building.

In the great office there was a great man too.

His name was John "Shark" Gallagher and he was The Head of the MLE, Magical Law Enforcement.

Not that Harry knew the name or the man.

Gallagher sat in his armchair, with his hands folded before his mouth and he was staring intently at the squirming form of Harry Potter. On his desk several papers were waiting to be signed, but they were ignored in the favor of sizing up Harry.

He hasn't said anything since Harry's entry, not even a hello or an introduction, and he was seemed perfectly content with remaining silent, to drag it out a little bit longer.

The problem was that Harry felt like a slab of meat in front of a hungry animal.

It wasn't a comforting thought.

He twisted on his seat while several sluggish minutes passed filled with staring and analyzing on Gallagher's part. Harry just wanted to get over the whole thing and leave the expensive-looking office, instead of being inspected like an insect under a microscope. He suddenly felt chilled, despite the constant hum of the AC.

The man still hasn't said anything, so Harry took his time to leisurely look around, not caring anymore whether he was rude or not, because he was sure that letting a guest stew in their own juice was not the right way to treat a visitor and the method was widely used in interrogations all across the world.

In the center there was a polished desk with two spacious armchairs on one side and on the other one a leather reclining chair occupied by the man. Under the table an expensive looking rug was spread out, maybe a Turkish one?

Behind Gallagher's back a giant window replaced the wall, offering a wonderful view for the watcher.

It would have been a relaxing site if only there wasn't a giant slob in front of Harry, who was breaking every written and unwritten law of being a gentleman.

Harry couldn't ignore it anymore.

And it was pissing Harry off.

He wanted to stand up and leave… but he needed to have his papers in order, if he didn't want to worry about evading the authorities during his stay in the country.

He had to cooperate even if it was killing him not to storm off… or to show any of his discomfort on his face.

As if reacting to his thoughts Gallagher's body language seemed to radiate amusement and Harry was appalled seeing it directed at him? He was tempted to ask the man why was he so happy about something at the moment, but refrained for the time being.

He didn't have to wait too long, because Gallagher must have decided that he got fed up with Harry's… charming features. Or not.

"Mr. Potter… or should I call you Ms. Potter?" amused, amused, amused… everything about the man seemed to scream amusement now, his posture, his voice, his facial, everything and Harry was on edge because of this.

"Just Potter is perfectly fine."

The man's smile grew and soon he was grinning from ear to ear.

"I will use Ms. Potter, if it isn't any trouble."

He wanted to tell it was and he should go to hell if he wasn't capable of accepting such a simple request.

He didn't. He couldn't.

He waited for hours and he had to keep himself levelheaded, if he wanted to leave ASAP.

Gallagher suddenly snapped into his business personality, even if Harry could see in his eyes that he was far from nonchalant.

"So Ms. Potter. About your application for visa… It was accepted on the first basis, but further proceedings depend on your cooperation."

Hearing a big but there, Harry didn't open his mouth, fearing that he will spoil something with that and still hoping to get out of the office relatively unscathed.

With some of his pride still intact.

"As I have heard you were never too keen on rules and regulations, but we can't make an exception just because you are an international hero."

"I didn't ask for any kind of partiality… Mr…"

"Excuse my rudeness Ms. Potter, my name is John Gallagher." He leaned over the desk and reached for Harry's hand, but instead of shaking it he took it to his mouth and kissed it.

Harry jerked back and glared at the creep masquerading as a gentleman, but Gallagher only smiled in response.

Harry glared harder and Gallagher smiled wider.

Harry thought two could play the game, so he soothed his features and managed a small, cordial smile.

"Mr. Gallagher, I haven't thanked you yet for seeing me in person." This sentence seemed to entertain him just as much as Harry's previous sulky silence.

"I bet."

"So what about those rules?" Harry tried again, now going for bashful and funny at the same time.

Gallagher smirked in response.

'Oh shit.'


Harry never thought he would set a foot in a place like that.

He just wanted a cup of coffee instead of the watery, black liquid served in the office of MLE.

And he was roped into this.

Coming to this very public place, and he was still in jeans and the tight white button-up Ginny forced him into.

Hell he was never much of an eat-out kind of guy.

So why would he stood in front of the counter of a place called Starbucks with an overly happy guy standing next to him and another crackshot in front of him, beaming at him and waiting for his order.

Seeing his distress Happy Guy Nr1 decided to order for him and happy Guy Nr2 complied merrily.

He was led to a secluded booth, and his eyes were assaulted by his companion's expression.

It was too happy for his caffeine-free mind.

Everyone was too happy for his taste at the moment.

He scowled as Gotcha' Guy tried to start a conversation. For some reason his expression didn't stop gotcha from trying to get some kind of response out of him.

"Hi, I'm so glad to work with you… I heard so much about you. Um, sorry I forgot to… my name is Jake Jamison. I'm so happy to say that I work with THE Harry Potter. My family won't believe it… Oh here is our coffee!"

There was a cup of brown liquid put in front of Harry and he said a soft 'Thank you', before he looked down with a stricken expression.

"I thought you were a Caramel Frappuccino kind of girl. You seem like one… I mean you seem sweet and caring and…"

Merlin's balls… was he trying to flirt with him?

Nah.

Is he just being considerate?

Question is: whether he was pretty enough to be flirted with when Gotcha Guy knew that he was a man at some point or was it his fame making an ugly appearance again?

He didn't know and he was not sure if he wanted to know…

Not to be seen like an ungrateful bitch and to avoid having to answer any of the guy's questions, Harry put the glass to his lips and took a sip.

Whipped cream, caramel and coffee. The caramel added a buttery feeling, the whipped cream another touch of another kind of sweetness and the coffee was easy to digest.

He wanted a cup full of the strong aroma and maybe the slightest amount of sugar.

What he got was some kind of mixed beverage and not even nearly enough caffeine.

He put the drink down and looked hard at the people milling around them. Watching him closely Gotcha Guy jumped at the chance to ask his opinion about his drink.

Seeing the eager puppy eyes, Harry cursed in his mind, then tried to bring out the more pleasant side of his personality.

"Well… It's not bad, but it wasn't the drink I had a desire for." Foreseeing the hurt appearing on Jamison, he donned a small smile and asked him "Can you drink it instead of me?"

He did it without any complaints and let Harry look around with no added comments. Harry suspected he was embarrassed by his failure, and at any other time he would try to make him feel at ease, but he wasn't in the mood at the moment. He shifted on his seat as his stomach cramped and wanted to run back, but he wasn't a scaredy cat so he had to hold on until the pills he ate earlier took effect.

Gotcha guy stood up from his seat and looked down at him clearly uncomfortable, as he excused himself to the restroom.

Harry sat there perturbed for a few seconds then slid out of the booth and walked toward the counter. There wasn't a long line, just one guy before him and Harry tried to make some sense of the labels before Jamison came back.

He loved coffee and he could tell the difference between Jamaican and Guatemalan brew from one sniff, but he knew next to nothing about popular beverages made from them.

He liked his coffee hot and black. No milk, no caramel, no whipped cream, no vanilla, no cinnamon or any other spices.

So he was a bit confused from the wide variety and he tried to see what kind of coffee the guy before him ordered. It looked okay to him on first glance, so maybe there was a chance that the coffeehouse served normal coffee too, right?

He didn't want to look like an idiot, but he was bound to make one out of himself, so he didn't even try to hide his uncertainty. He was whispering to himself

"How do they call normal black coffee?"

He heard a snort from the guy next to him. "Dunno, you can describe what you want and they will try to help you."

A guy in green apron snatched the opportunity to ask him about his order. "What brew would you like? Arabica, robusta or something else?"

"Robusta would be alright now. Maybe something extra strong?"

"What about the Sumatra? It's full, intense and one of the best single-origin coffees we offer." He looked hopeful and Harry couldn't say no. The fact that it wasn't a multi-region blend helped to make him accept.

"Okay, I'll take that. The largest cup you have…"

After paying he went to stand next to the guy in suit. Harry glanced at the door to the restroom and wondered what took such a long time for Jamison to finish.

"You are not from around here, right?"

He looked up from under his fringe and looked into dark green eyes framed with dark eyelashes. He stood there gob smacked and shook his head silently.

"The accent was a dead giveaway..." he grinned and Harry thought he had a great smile, but his eyes were prettier. "So are you British?"

Harry nodded, when a girl gave the man his coffee with a pretty blush on her freckled face. Suit Guy turned around and headed for the door with his coffee in hand – it was some kind of African Arabica, he could tell from the scent – and Harry spoke up before he would leave.

"Do you work around here?"

The guy stilled and smiled at him again and Harry thought the girl behind him swooned at the sight.

"Not really, I'm just travelling trough because of my job… Don't worry we will see each other again, hot stuff."

Hot stuff?

'That's it you are so going down.'

"Oh, I wasn't worrying about that…" he smirked, while berating himself for finding the jerk even remotely interesting. "Just trying to find out about the guy who holds the badge."

The man was surprised but he quickly covered it up and opened his mouth to retort with something witty, but he was interrupted by one: the arrival of Harry's companion and two: the arrival of his steaming coffee.

"Sorry, Ms. Potter. I was kinda held up… Did something happen while I was gone?"

Harry looked at Jamison then back to the Guy-In-Suit.

Who has left the coffee shop while he was distracted.

"Damn."

"Did you say anything Ms. Potter?" Jamison asked with those puppy eyes and Harry put the jerk away from the forefront of his mind.

"Nothing. Could you stop with the whole thing? Call me Harry."

"Eh? I wouldn't… It would be…"

"Let's make a deal. You call me Harry, just Harry, none of that Ms. Potter stuff, and I will call you Jake. How does that sound?"

He contemplated the idea then nodded.

"Okay. Let me grab my coffee and we can go back to the office. I still need to speak with my new boss about those rules…"


End of Chapter 2

AN: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Reviews are still very welcomed...

About the Girl Code rules. Dunno whether someone wondered about them, but I want to assure you, that they are not the product of my mind. You can find them on Urban Dictionary dot com. :)

With this chapter... Girl Code is now over 15k words. I feel proud of my baby. Writing while watching Resident Evil (1-3), then Evil Dead, then Hancock seemed to work for some reason... :D