Author's Note: It looks like the muse is alternating between this and Prometheus Unbound. I would like to thank those who helped me with the characterization of Snape during the last few chapters. It's been something that's hard to handle. I'm seeing a trend to these chapters getting longer as I rewrite them. I think that's generally a good thing.
There was a minor update to this chapter's second scene on 2/4/15. It has been further updated on 7/30/18.
Chapter Three
Molly Weasley was seated in the front parlor, listening to one of Snape's records, a performance of Vivaldi's Four Seasons by the London Symphony, when Snape appeared. The Slytherin Head of House had his arm around a girl. The girl's hand was on her trunk, which immediately tumbled over. Only the fact that Molly knew who Snape was retrieving allowed her to identify her.
Molly Weasley had seen many a poor clothes transfiguration attempt, especially of dresses, back when she was attending Hogwarts. It was obvious from what the girl was wearing that Professor Snape was not a transfiguration professor. The dress was thin, way too thin. Even in this warm weather it was obviously not enough coverage. Her red hair was not Weasley red. That was a bit deeper, more towards scarlet than the flaming red that she had last seen on Lily Potter but now graced the form of Harry Potter.
"Mrs. Weasley," Professor Snape greeted. "I take it that dinner is merely simmering until we are ready to eat?"
"Ginny's finishing the bread now," Molly replied, as her focus remained on Harry. "Welcome to Spinner's End, Harry. Sorry that you won't be able to spend time at the Burrow this summer, but Ginny will be here with you, and I imagine that I'll stop by a few times."
"Indeed," Snape said. "Though it will be limited. Mr. Potter, Mrs. Weasley will be playing the role of Placement Advisor this Summer. Your cover here is that you and Ginny are my cousins, who recently lost their mother in a house fire. I shall be going over your cover identities during dinner."
Molly noticed how slumped Harry's posture was. To the mother, it was a sign that Harry needed one thing to at least get through to dinner. "Come, I think you need a hug," she said to Harry, her arms pulling Harry close. Harry was a bit taller than her Ginny was, and the transformation had given her a much more developed bust line than her daughter. She held Harry close, letting him draw a bit of comfort from the protection of her arms.
When Harry had first come to the Burrow the previous summer, it had been clear that the boy was not sure about being hugged, but by the time he'd left for Hogwarts, Molly had made great strides in his acceptance of being hugged. In fact, the boy had practically lapped up the affection that she lavished on him. It had been clear to her that at the very least the boy had been starved of affection, if not starved in general, and Molly had made a point of giving Harry as much love as she could. She knew Harry appreciated it. None of her boys wrote thank you letters like he did for Christmas gifts and the incidentals that she managed to scratch together to send to Hogwarts.
She felt Harry beginning to pull away and she let him. Looking at Harry's attire again, it was clear to her that it would not do. "Severus, we have to do something immediately about Harry's attire," she said.
"Indeed," Professor Snape replied. "The Headmaster has provided a stipend for clothing. I intend to go shopping tomorrow with the girls."
"Yes, but we need to have a goodbye out front before I return to the Burrow, and that dress is not suitable," Molly said.
"Neither is anything else in Potter's trunk," Professor Snape stated.
"I can, at the very least, transfigure something better to last until then," Molly said firmly.
It was almost five minutes later that Molly found herself being hugged by her daughter, tears running down both their faces, on the steps of Number Seven Spinner's End. After her daughter pulled away, she pulled Harry into a similar hug. It was quite an emotional parting in front of the residents of Spinner's End.
It looked like the whole street had managed to show up to see it too. A skateboarder had actually caused poor Harry to have to jump back before Molly could hug him, at first. There were three people walking their dogs, and a young boy chasing a cat. That was before Molly started counting the number of people sitting out on their steps in the afternoon sun on the other side of the street.
"Now, remember, girls," Molly admonished after she finished her hugs. "I want you to contact me if you have any problems. We take placement very seriously. I know that Mr. Snape is your father's nephew, but that doesn't mean that we will take any less care to make sure the transition of custody is any less suitable than otherwise."
"Yes Mrs. Prewett," Ginny replied with a bit of a grin. Harry remained silent, his head looking down.
"And that goes for you too, Harry," Molly said, raising his chin so she could look in the eyes of the boy turned girl.
"Yes Mrs. Prewett," Harry echoed.
With tears in her eyes, Molly pulled away from her daughter, and the boy turned girl who she wished was. She opened the door, dodging that skateboarder again, before she sat down in her Stag. As the tears slid down her face, she turned the key, revived the engine, and pulled out of Spinner's End.
Severus Snape gently turned Ginny Weasley's gaze away from where her mother's car had disappeared around the corner. He'd been quite surprised to see her pull up in what looked like a mint condition '72 Triumph Stag. It was not something he expected to see from the cash strapped family. Judging from the way she pulled away from the curb, Molly Weasley felt the need for speed.
As they re-entered Number Seven, took the time to examine the two girls who would be his charges for the summer. Ginny Weasley had taken a potion that had matched up her hair and eyes with Harry's. Severus cursed the Headmaster for what he was sure was not going to be the last time. As a Hogwarts Head of House, he was well aware what two girls could get up to. With one especially looking like Lily, his childhood friend from just a few blocks over, he knew all the things that had attracted her in the very town. He was sure that Lily would come back to kill him if he allowed her son to get into some of the things that she did.
For a moment, he let them proceed him into the house. Ginny had come wearing a rather nice, if a bit formal deep blue blouse with matching slacks. It was obviously her muggle bests. Judging from his review of her trunk, she would need a few clothes to round out her playing the orphaned girl spending the summer with her new guardian. His other charge would need much more.
Harry, Severus was making a point to think of him by that name, not his hated last name, needed everything. Being a newly transformed girl, that was perhaps a given. Since his trunk had spilled on arrival, Severus knew that would have been true regardless of his transformation's effects. It was obvious that the only items that had fit Harry at the end of the school year were his school robes, and even they were a bit short after a year's growth.
Molly Weasley, or as she was going by for the Summer during her occasional visits, Mrs. Prewett, had transfigured one of Harry's robes into a nice set of clothes, similar to Ginny's outfit, though with a deep green top, a particular shade that his mother preferred, matching their eyes, and black slacks. A second set had been transfigured for use in their shopping the next morning.
He was not looking forward to taking them down to the shops off High Street. In his experience, going with girls shopping was a chore that he could do without. Unfortunately, it was his duty. And by bringing Harry into his home, he was now committed to the duty of caring for the now daughter of Lily Evans, with a side of Weasley.
The scent of fresh baked bread waffled from the kitchen at the rear of the house. Checking his watch, a gift from Minerva the previous Christmas, he saw that there was at least a good five minutes of simmering left on the beef stew which the Weasley ladies had started on his stove. Everything else was waiting that last bit. Plenty of time, he judged to get some of the of the necessary rules set.
Suddenly Severus realized that Molly had made a mistake, a mistake that invalidated much of the prepared paperwork that the Headmaster had provided. "Potter," Severus said, stopping the boy turned girl's progress down the hall towards the kitchen.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" Harry said in a surprisingly polite tone. Severus figured that he would have been angry, answering abrasively. It was as if he was answering like one trained in the service.
"Mrs. Weasley, by calling you Harry outside. has upset the documentation that had been set up for you this summer," Snape began. It was something that Albus really should have considered when he gave an amateur like Molly Weasley an acting role. "I have documentation making you Hazel Jasmine Prince, just like Miss Weasley is now Ginger Ariana Prince. We now need to correct your documents with a name that can be shortened to Harry, but is not easily seen as such that I can use to refer to you in full when visitors stop by. I'm giving you the privilege of coming up with one before bedtime tonight. Use the Comprehendum of Acceptable Names by Walburga Black. The Prince family used it almost exclusively, even those that were exiled to the muggle world. It's in the parlor."
"Yes sir," Harry said, before continuing on into the kitchen.
The scent of fresh baked bread filled the room. Ginny Weasley was proud of her success in baking. She was sure that Professor Snape would not expect this much for dinner. Her mother had told the Professor that Ginny would be able to "able to heat up a little dinner" to be ready when he and Potter arrived. Then her mother had sat back in the corner and watched.
Ginny had quickly investigated the kitchen including the gas range and oven. Fortunately like her father Ginny had a bit of interest in Muggle things. Unlike her father, Ginny had sought out more reliable sources. It also helped that there was a rather old and dusty cook book that she discovered in the cupboards flanking the oven. There been some notations in a spidery feminine hand about the particularities of the oven and stove. It had accidentally opened up to a recipe for Italian bread with the notation "Severus's Favorite."
There had been just enough ingredients for it. She'd also been able to make a vegetable beef stew that looked quite well. The bread was on the table covered with a towel in a basket. Soup bowls were set out, and she found a ladle to serve stew.
Harry's arrival and her mother's departure had been almost perfectly timed. The stew was simmering, almost ready to serve, and the Italian twisted bread sticks had just been pulled out of the oven. Ginny had covered the bread with a couple dish towels, and placed the basket on the table, just as the crack of Professor Snape's arrival echoed through the house.
Ginny hoped that the meal she'd made to impress Harry Potter would be good. With her mother's departure, she quickly checked to make sure everything was ready. Glasses were on the table, along with soup bowls and plates for the bread.
Harry Potter's arrival was more unexpected than not. Ginny Weasley had expected a boy older than her, a little bit taller than her, dark hair, brilliant green eyes, with a thin and wiry body. That was not what was holding on to the arm of her hook nosed Professor, when she'd come to greet him. Instead there was a red haired girl who looked almost a couple years older than Ginny with a wiry build and brilliant green eyes that Ginny Weasley would recognize anywhere.
As soon as her mother had departed, Ginny had dashed back in to check the stove. The stew wasn't done yet. She stirred it a bit to judge how long. "Professor Snape, the stew should be done in a couple minutes or so," she announced as he entered just behind Harry.
"Good," Professor Snape said. "Harry, I think you need to sit down."
Ginny followed the professor's gaze, and noticed that Harry seemed to be trembling, and even slightly swaying. The boy turned girl was pale, nearly white as a sheet. He practically fell into the chair.
"Ginny, pour Harry a glass of lemonade," Professor Snape said. "It is in the blue pitcher. Do not jar the red one when you remove it, or I may have to replace my icebox."
Ginny quickly followed the Professor's instructions. She also placed the bread on the table, before checking the stew, again. It wasn't quite ready. She looked back at Harry, who had already finished half of his glass, and was now nibbling on a slice of bread that the Professor had apparently cut while her back was turned. Professor Snape had taken a seat right at Harry's side.
"Do you think you can make it through the meal, Harry, or should I take you up to bed," Professor Snape said in a tone that Ginny had never heard from the Head of Slytherin. It was soft, without the sharp biting tone that she'd grown to expect from him. The volume was barely above a whisper, and there was a surprising hint of warmth to it. Harry nodded. The Professor continued with a much more firm tone.
"Then while we wait the last few minutes for the stew to finish simmering, perhaps now would be a good time for a few ground rules for the summer. First of all, I shall be addressing you by your preferred diminutives, or at least what everyone else considers to be your diminutives, when we are not with visitors. Outside this house, you may expect me to refer to you as Ginger, Ginny, and Harry can expect what ever name you chose. I need that name by morning, Harry. You may call me Master Snape or just Professor.
"There will be no references used by either of you to the last names of Potter or Weasley. This is important for both your safeties. Given my position, it should not be unexpected when some current students from Slytherin or alumni visit. You may expect in particular, Draco Malfoy, of whom I expect you to not give a single hint that you are familiar with."
"Yes sir!" Ginny replied. It would not be easy. Ginny had her own encounters with the Malfoy heir, and upon finding out who had placed the diary in her cauldron, a deep hatred for his father. Still, she would try to be prepared for the encounter.
"I am well aware that on holidays, students rejoice in sleeping in. I am also aware that you both are currently having issues sleeping. In fact, tonight, I shall be providing for you both, as an option, a vial of Dreamless sleep. I will not be forcing you to take it, though, Given that, I will also not be forcing a morning wake up call. You will, however, have a nine post meridian bed time. I expect both of you to have prepared for bed appropriately by then.
"Inside this house, I expect you not to disturb any of my papers in my study. There is a potions lab in the basement. Do not disturb it. You may, later in the summer, be asked to assist me, and I shall correct some notable deficiencies in your brewing habits. Lunch will be served precisely at noon. Be late, and miss it. There will be a snack provided at tea time, though I shall not require you to join me in my afternoon tea, do not disturb me during it. The evening meal will be at six. Again, be late and miss it.
"You both will be assigned some minor chores, and be expected to keep your rooms clean, as well as clean up any of your own messes. There are no house elves on Spinner's End to clean up after you.
"Both of you will be under the care of a mind healer, or as she's known outside the magical world, a psychologist. I shall expect you both to behave appropriately with her, and follow any instructions she gives you. Harry, I shall also be providing you with some creams and potions to reduce your scars.
"Finally, I will not be confining either of you, in the course of normal events to this house. However, there are limits to how much roaming you may do in Cokeworth. I do expect that you will inform me, or in my absence, leave a note on my study door, any time you leave the house to let me know what you are doing. In your wanderings around town, you shall not cross the canal, go past Church Street, or go past the park. You may, however enjoy the entire park. It was one of my favorite places to go when I was your age. Ginny, is the stew ready now?"
Ginny checked. "Yes, Professor." She took the pot of the stove, and took it to the table, placing it on a hot pad that she'd put there earlier. Her mind was full of conflict, as she processed what Professor Snape had said. It was not what she expected from him. He was firm in his rules, but there seemed to be a lot of slack and freedom that she hadn't expected. And that last bit about the park, the wistful expression on his face when he said it was entirely unexpected. She took the seat.
"Harry, are you familiar with saying grace before meals?" Professor Snape asked.
"No sir," Harry replied, looking up and meeting the Professor's gaze.
"It was one of the things that your grandmother always insisted on whenever I was lucky enough to join your mother's family for a meal," Snape said. "So, perhaps I should share her favorite blessing with you. Place you palms together, bow your head, close your eyes, and listen." Ginny followed his instructions. There was a momentary silence, and then the Professor began to speak, as if he was drawing each words from long buried memories of a better time. The words coming out as if each word was precious, to be spoken of fondly, and somehow imbued with a reverence that could not be denied.
"Bless us, oh Lord, and these, thy gifts which we have received from thy bounty. Bless those gathered around this table, that they may find solace in thy hands. Forever and ever, Amen."
Harry Potter stood looking at himself in the mirror in Snape's bathroom. Or should it be herself, he asked himself. The potion that Snape had given him had turned him into a girl. It was supposed to be temporary, but Harry did not trust Snape.
He only really needed to wash his face before he retreated to the room he'd been given, as he'd taken a shower before he left Privet Drive. Harry couldn't help staring at himself in the mirror, though. The changes had been complete, but until this moment he had not been able to really see the changes himself.
Though it wasn't the most significant change, it was the hair that caught his attention in the mirror. No longer was it black and unruly. Now it was red, tendrils of flame framing his face and cascading down to his shoulders. He still was wearing the deep green button down shirt that Mrs. Weasley had transfigured for him. He couldn't sleep in it. Ginny had provided him a night shirt.
He removed the shirt, bringing to his gaze in the mirror, the breasts. Or should it be The Breasts. It seemed like they should be capitalized. They were an unfamiliar weight on his chest, not as big as Hermione's, and certainly not in Lavender's league. He'd noticed the development of the girls in his year last year. None of them could hide their breasts under the robes, as most could have in his first year. Harry wished he could hide his.
The cool air of the bathroom made his nipples perk, and he shivered a bit in the circulation below the bathroom fan. Harry raised his right hand to touch his breasts, to prove that they were real. Then, almost of their own accord his hands moved to lower his pants, accidentally dropping the worn boxers along with the pants that Mrs. Weasley had transfigured. He was glad that she'd replaced the dress than Snape had transfigured. He was not going to ever trust what Snape transfigured.
Harry's eyes briefly darted down, catching sight of what had replaced the equipment he was born with. As his gaze once again shot upwards, he blushed. With his eyes once again focused straight forward, he noted that all his hair matched.
He picked up the wash cloth that he'd put in the sink, and lathered it up, trying to keep his mind off the changes down there by focusing on his face. There wasn't a lot of distance, so he could see everything clearly. Harry didn't think much had changed with the contours of his face, but across his nose there was a sprinkling of freckles that he hadn't had before.
He scrubbed his face a bit roughly, noticing that there was a bit of a scent to the soap, though he couldn't quite place what it was. He rinsed out the cloth, and then bent over the sink to make it easier to wash off the soap from his face. Then he let out the water, wringing out the cloth before hanging it up where he'd been told to do, on top of the shower curtain rod. Only then did he pick up the towel to dry off.
Over the head went the night shirt, before he picked up his glasses. A quick check, and he decided they didn't need to be cleaned at the moment, so on they went, and the world went back into focus again. If only it would focus to show what he had been when he left Hogwarts.
Ginny had said she slept in her night shirt and panties, never her bra, so Harry slid back on his boxers, before placing the rest of his clothes in the hamper. He then opened the door and stepped out into the hall, right into Professor Snape.
"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, trembling, and nearly falling. His balance seemed to be a bit out.
"I take it from the fact that you re-shelved the Comprehendum of Acceptable Names, you have chosen one?" Snape said, gently stabilizing Harry's stance.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied. He'd spend a good hour, while Ginny prepared for bed, looking through the book for names that could be short for Harry. Most of them were also forms of Henry, and to his mind that was a bit too close, given that he was trying to hide, though he'd once wished that his own name was Henry. "Harikleia Zhaklina Prince."
"An interesting choice," Snape said. "We shall say that it was your father's choice, with your mother having named Ginny. It has the advantage of being the truth. I shall have the paperwork updated. I shall have to return briefly to Privet Drive. It seems that I forgot to release the spell I put your uncle under."
"Don't bother," Harry muttered. He could care less what happened to his Uncle Vernon. His mind had caught the new tidbit about his parents that he hadn't known. He had to wonder what his mother's choices might have been, or what he would have been named had he been born the sex he was now.
"There are times when responsibility goes against one's wishes. I shall return in less than an hour. I trust that both of your can survive that length of time. Ginny is already asleep, having consumed a dose of dreamless sleep. I expect you shall follow, shortly."
Harry suddenly yawned. He stepped around Snape, who was turning to head down stairs, and headed to his new room at Spinner's End. The sheet was already turned down for him to slid under it. With another yawn he did, and soon Harikleia Prince was asleep.
Severus Snape appeared with a crack back in the parlor of Number Four Privet Drive. Vernon Dursley was still seated on the sofa, held there by the petrification spell that Severus had cast while Harry was undressing. The screen that he'd transfigured had already reverted to the coffee table.
"Vernon Dursley, I am so glad that the spell hasn't worn off," Severus said, wandlessly and wordlessly casting a spell to ensure that he would not be interrupted. Then with great malice, he invaded Vernon's mind, using the incantation so the vile man would know he did it. "Legilimens! You feel quite frustrated, being unable to move under my spell. I know you hate magic. You're struggling against its bounds.
"You really shouldn't be doing that. I can see your doctor advised you to be careful, loose weight, and exercise more. You haven't been doing that have you? I didn't think so. Your heart rate seems to be increasing, and I can see your temple throbbing as you try to move, to escape the wizard standing in front of you.
"There is no escape. If you were to by some miracle reverse the petrification that I have you under, I would simply re-apply it before you could even stand. Oh dear, it seems that you were not able to get to the toilet. You really shouldn't have consumed all of that wine at your last meal it seems that it had gone right through you. I really should clean it up from Petunia's sofa. It's something she really doesn't need, given what's happening to you. Oh, it seems you don't treat her well either, but never as bad as you have Potter. You've been directing your uncontrolled temper towards him, mostly. That was a very bad idea.
"You see, I do not countenance any abuse of my students. I especially countenance the abuse of the son of Lily Evans. You see, I grew up with Lily and Petunia. Lily was the only woman I ever loved. I may have never forgiven James Potter from marrying her, and looking at his son, who is the spitting image of him, may set me on edge, but Harry is Lily's child, and I will do anything, I have done everything, to protect him.
"I have defied the most evil dark lord, a dark lord who had bound my very soul with darkness, when I learnt he was going after Lily. I can do no less to those that abused her son, the only living memory of the one I loved. Feeling a bit of fear, Vernon?
"I saw the marks you left on him. I can see every memory you have of abusing him. I can see the perverse pleasure you took at harming him, trying to kill his very soul. I can see how each strike of your belt excited you. It is a good thing that Harry was not female when Professor Dumbledore left him on your threshold. I can see what you would have done to her. She wouldn't have been able to walk normally after you were done. You've been thinking on it on and off since he was transformed in front of you.
"I was one of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, a member of his inner circle, and his potions master. I could brew potions that would ruin your life, that would have you dying in pain. I could curse you with pain so terrible that your mind would break. I could force you to do unspeakable acts where you would never escape witnesses to your crimes, and no one would ever believe that I made you do it.
"I could do all of that, but I am not. You see, right now, your heart is beating so hard that it's about to bust loose some of that stuff that's been building up in your blood vessels for years. The question is, will it lodge in your heart, or your brain. Personally I'm hoping for your brain.
"You've just started to feel a pain in your chest, haven't you. Your breath seems a bit short Vernon, and you're sweating heavily. I bet you wouldn't even be able to stand if I let up my spell, or call for help. Perhaps I should let Petunia in. She might be able to call for help, and get you to the hospital on time. I think not.
"No, Vernon, you're not going to get help. You can feel everything closing in on you now, can't you? Your heart isn't beating right any more. You're not getting enough oxygen to your brain. You really shouldn't have let yourself become so angry, Vernon. You did it to yourself. Good Night, Vernon."
Severus undid all his spells on Number Four Privet Drive and apprarated back to his house. He left Vernon Dursley falling off the couch, only now able to call out in a rough strained voice, as night closed in on him. "Petunia!" Then with less force, "help."