Yes FFN is deleting stories. No I don't care. Most of them contain porn that, if you were found in possession of it, you'd be arrested on charges of pedophilia/beastiality/etc. Grow the fuck up.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and associates, of whom I am not one. This is a rewrite of a fic from 4 years ago.

Warnings: AU, mentions of child abuse, ongoing theme of drug abuse, some character bashing (but only such that it follows canon and canon trends), spoilers through Deathly Hallows, coarse language, some minor OCs.

Chapter 4: Pick And Choose

The morning of September the first, Hadley woke up earlier than she may have liked, though thankfully not as early as she would have if she had been staying the second half of the summer with Ron's family. She had gone over a couple more times in the past week since her return from the Quidditch Cup, of course, but there was something to be said for living in London. She could take the tube at half ten and still get on the Hogwarts Express before eleven.

She stretched a bit and rolled over to grab her new glasses from the small bedside table, still wrapped in red bedding. The glasses had been a late birthday gift from Harry, when he caught her squinting at the telly. She had been planning to go to an optometrist before school started anyway, but Harry had got her an appointment before she left for the Weasleys and found a one-hour shop that would have them done in the time it took to have lunch. Her new frames were amazing, no longer the heavy frames that Vernon had picked up at the cheapest price possible. And while her eyes weren't terrible, it was fascinating that they could make the lenses as thin as they did.

Later, she asked Harry why they didn't go to a wizarding shop for the glasses, and he explained that he really had no idea where any magical medical facility other than St Mungo's was. Hadley made note to ask Mr Weasley about it later, since she doubted his and Percy's glasses came from muggle shops.

With the half-frames perched again on her nose, Hadley finally noticed something off with her room. On Hedwig's perch, rather than the wonderful white owl Hadley had been planning to greet that morning, there was a blue macaw that almost matched the color of the wall behind it. It turned around and cawed, realizing she was awake, its yellow belly helping it stand out.

There was a pouch on its neck that she immediately realized must hold a letter from Sirius. They had been exchanging letters all summer, and though his last bird had been some fabulous red thing, received the same day as Ron's owl about the cup, the parrot was almost… disappointing.

Still, it was fabulous to know he was somewhere tropical. The last sighting had apparently been in Brazil.

Idly, Hadley wondered if that snake from the zoo ever managed to leave the isles.

Hadley pulled herself out of bed, trekking the single step between herself and the parrot, relieving it of its burden. She gave it a look, wondering if it would leave, but the bird leased a shrill whistle and called "wait for a reply!" before making some weird clicking noise.

She immediately decided owls were far superior means of communication. Her ears were ringing.

"Hadley? What was that?" Harry's voice carried through the wall. Apparently he was in the kitchen. She headed to the door to her room to reply, but the instant she opened it to stick her head out, the parrot flew before her, apparently expecting to be in her presence until she replied to Sirius.

"Bloody-" Hadley refrained from saying more, chasing the parrot into the living room where it perched on the back of a dining chair. Too late. Harry was standing between the bird and the kitchen, spatula in one hand and a pan of bacon in the other. "Er…"

"You know someone with an interesting 'owl', I take it," Harry was eyeing the bird carefully. It clicked at him and settled into its new perch better. "Glad you're up at least. Morning."

"Good morning," Hadley nodded, giving a half-hearted glare at the parrot. "Um, about the bird…" She couldn't pin it on the Weasleys, Harry had already seen Pig. And Hermione didn't have any bird, plus she'd sent muggle post the other day. She was trying to teach Mr Weasley to do it the right way, since she stayed the rest of summer while her parents were at a dental conference.

Could she tell him about Sirius? Something told her Harry would understand, but... he was oddly distant. For all he was so open about his previous life and the trauma he had experienced little more than a year ago, Harry wasn't all there. When they were home together, they didn't talk much, and the closest thing to emotion he ever seemed to display was just a general sense of uncertainty in his voice.

Harry tip-toed around her, a lot of people did. And something told Hadley that it had nothing to do with her status as the Girl-Who-Lived. Something else made him keep his distance.

That something, whatever it was, was enough to make her not want to tell him about Sirius. Not unless she had to.

"It's fine," Harry cut off her train of thought. "Just be careful. The bird bites."

As she would discover upon reading the post-script in Sirius' letter, the bird did indeed bite. Especially when she gave it a letter to send back to Sirius.

The rain was absolutely ridiculous, Hadley decided. It was cold and it was pouring rain, and even though Harry had offered to enchant her robes that morning she had refused. It had been sunny in London. Scotland, however, was about as wet as ever, and Hadley wasn't the only student to run into the great hall looking like a drowned rat, though she was probably the only one with a plaster half falling off her finger because of the weather. Those poor first years – and Harry – wouldn't know what hit them.

And Peeves dropping water balloons on anyone he could only added insult to injury.

In the Great Hall, the upper years were very popular as they cast drying and heating charms on anyone who asked. Or the nice ones did. The less nice ones might have for a price, but with the nicer students doing it for free there would be no market. So those with less than pure intent behind their offers quickly stopped bothering, preferring to catch up with their friends and year mates as they sat, dry and unbothered.

The Sorting commenced shortly, the first years all looking half-drowned, in particular one who was absolutely swimming in Hagrid's jacket and waving at Colin Creevey. It didn't take more than half a second for Hadley to realize she would have another stalker, and he was quick to join the house of lions, already muttering with his brother and looking to Hadley in awe.

She winced. Colin had been keen to point his brother out when they entered, letting her know he'd told his brother all about her, and he'd seen every one of his photos that he had taken throughout the past two years, and wouldn't it be great if he was in Gryffindor? Sure, Hadley had had the idle hope that the younger Creevey would end up in maybe Hufflepuff - that was the only other option, looking at the cheery, soggy, boy - but obviously no luck. This year would be more annoying than ever.

Harry was the last to be Sorted. It was hardly the first time Hogwarts had received a transfer student, though they didn't usually come in their final year, and most managed to get sorted before school actually started. Harry, however, had apparently been too busy to drop by the Headmaster's office beforehand, In the total two weeks Hadley had stayed in the flat he often left to go shopping or to go attend to business at Gringotts apparently, and so he had the dubious honor of being the first student over the age of twelve to be sorted publically in perhaps thirty or forty years.

Or that was what Hermione was whispering in her ear, Hadley wasn't really paying much attention.

She didn't really care what house her cousin landed in. He was too old to be shaped like the younger students were by their houses. It would simply be an assessment of his most prominent trait or where his ambitions would necessitate his placement rather than the life altering decision that Hadley and her friends had faced several years ago.

Still, when a minute was passed and no house had been called, Hadley was certainly curious. Harry and the hat both had to know it couldn't possibly matter much where he landed. He was eighteen already! Aside from a couple of dimmer students who failed to get at least three NEWTs as required to graduate and didn't feel like dropping out, he was to be the oldest student. And one year of living with a group of people wasn't a big deal, so why was it taking so long?

Ron, and many other wizards she knew, would probably think Hadley a heretic for thinking it, but she wondered if houses really mattered after a while. If people really were sorted by their "strongest" trait, Hermione would be a Ravenclaw, unless bossiness was a Gryffindor trait. And, Hadley thought with a bit of spite on her mind, Malfoy would be a Hufflepuff, since he never seemed terribly cunning at all with his attempts to get her and Ron in trouble all the time. He wasn't very "Slytherin" at all by the hat's definition, and yet he was sorted before the hat even touched his perfectly groomed little head.

The spite still wiggling about in her mind, Hadley wondered why they bothered sorting at all. It just gave students a framework to cultvate a specific personality type and ignore their other traits. Which was a bad idea because a bunch of recklessly brave children - such as Hadley herself - all bunched up together was a terrible idea.

Finally, at the three minute mark, the hat called out "Slytherin!" and Harry took his place at the house of snakes. His eyes sought out Hadley, and she gave him a smile before turning to the food that appeared in front of her. She let her spite go away.

Harry was in Slytherin. He kind of seemed it, not she thought about it, but only a little. It was really his lack of showing much emotion, he seemed like some of the older Slytherins, the ones who were preparing to take on Head of House duties now that they were of age. It was odd for someone raised by muggles for years, or maybe not. But hadn't Harry said he was in charge of his family-of-one now? Maybe it was just a general "thing".

"That's your cousin, isn't it?" Hermione frowned. "I didn't see him at all on the train."

"He sat near the prefect's compartment, said he wanted to study," Hadley shrugged, loading potatoes and chicken onto her plate. Harry was actually an alright cook, surprisingly, but nothing short of Molly Weasley herself could beat Hogwarts food.

"But he's a Slytherin now," Ron looked scandalized, not touching the food in front of him. "Why aren't you… how can you live with that?"

Hadley frowned. "He wasn't a Slytherin when I was living with him, and he won't be once he graduates and I go back to the flat. I think he got Slytherin because he seems to… think ahead a lot." That sounded about right. And his lack of emotion. But what could she really say about that? Her suspicions from a month ago, that he took calming potions, weren't true. There wasn't a single calming potion in the entire flat, even though Harry apparently brewed potions in his room frequently.

"Think ahead? You mean scheme!" Ron was a bit flustered at Hadley's lack of care over the fact that her cousin was a slimy Slytherin. She almost wanted to tell him that that's where she would be if she hadn't argued with the hat over it so badly. If Ron hadn't told her straight out what a terrible person Malfoy and the other Slytherins were. Sometimes she wondered of course, what life would be like, but then Malfoy would call Hermione terrible names or Pansy Parkinson would try to taunt Hadley about her "size".

Pansy, the stuck up pug, had been the first girl in their year to start growing breasts. And not even her pug-like nose and nasty attitude seemed to make that matter any less. It was like she held court, or thought she did.

First to develop is first to hit majority, Hadley reminded herself. And the sooner someone hit majority, overall the weaker they were. She wouldn't be surprised if Pansy had already reached hers, honestly. Weak witches hit majority as early as thirteen, and hadn't Pansy been going in and out of the hospital wing in February last year?

"It's not scheming, it's just understanding how other people think," Hadley sighed. "I mean, I know you like chess. Does asking you to play chess with me when you're in a sour mood mean that I'm scheming?"

Ron was flustered again by this, eventually saving himself from humiliation by digging into his food with nearly unheard of gusto. Then Nearly Headless Nick told them of the trouble in the kitchens and Hermione refused to eat food made by "slave labor".

While Hadley and Ron both tried to convince Hermione to eat, Ron because it amused him and Hadley because Hermione needed food no matter what her morals said, the rest of the Hall did as they were wont to do and talked loudly. At length, dessert cleared and Hadley sighed at her failure to get her friend to eat anything.

And then Headmaster said it. The magic words. No Quidditch. No.

No no no.

Hadley wasn't going to stand for no Quidditch. Not when she had finally got away from the Dursleys. Not when this was her last year before OWLs. That was unacceptable.

The explanation of a "Triwizard Tournament" did nothing to make her feel better.

One student of Hogwarts was going to be involved in a competition that would, on the whole, encompass only three days, and that meant the entire school had to go without Quidditch? Hadley wasn't the only student to whimper at the injustice, even if the Weasley twins were more concerned about the fact that they wouldn't be of age until April first and therefore could not participate in the tournament either.

The students were dismissed to their dormitories and Hadley stood to follow the prefects to the tower. She was stopped at the doors by Professor McGonagall, who told her she was to go to the Headmaster's office before returning to the tower, informing her of both the password to the office (Fizzing Whizbee) and to Gryffindor House (Balderdash). Her friends went on without her, and Hadley only spared Harry a wave as he passed by her.

Unless it was an apology for cancelling Quidditch, Hadley wasn't too interested in whatever the Headmaster wanted. But she obediently made her way up to the gargoyle guarding his office, offering it to password in a put-out tone.

The Headmaster bid her enter before she could rap on the door – she supposed he had heard the stairs moving – and Hadley obeyed. The room was the same as it had been a year and a half prior when she had last been inside, complete was Fawkes sat on his perch, preening. Headmasters of years past sat sleeping in their portraits, and the current headmaster was sitting behind his desk, smiling.

"Sir," Hadley acknowledged, "what am I here for?"

"There are two orders of business to attend to tonight, my girl," Dumbledore indicated she should sit. "I think the more dire of the two should come first. The second is perhaps a bit depressing, but lighter subject matter on the whole.

"Ms Potter, Hadley, your godfather sent me a message regarding your dream during the summer, your vision of Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew, and the death of the old man. I must tell you that this confirmed some suspicions I have had since your first year when you were beginning to have pains in your scar. There is a connection between you and Voldemort, one that, as he strengthens, so shall it. What were once twinges when he was nearby and ready to take the Stone are now visions sent from leagues and leagues away. I do not know how strong the bond might be when he is whole again, or as close as he can be, but knowing what we do now, I must reveal something to you that I have been considering for some time.

"I must apologize for keeping this from you for so long, but it was…" the Headmaster hesitated. Something about the way he spoke, the way that Hadley knew, even if she wanted to interject, she couldn't, reminded her of something. "Necessary is not quite the right word. I have been foolish to keep it from you, but now wise enough to know that you must know. The prophecy you heard from Professor Trelawney was not the only one of its ilk. Not long before you were born, she gave one other."

And he showed her in a bowl of strange silver liquid what had happened that night. Professor Trelawney's ethereal body hung over the bowl, like Princess Leia in her message to Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Star Wars films Harry had showed her over the summer. And her words spelled out Hadley's future. Hadley's do-or-die fight for the world, all in a rather bad poem and gravelly voice.

Her hands gripped the arms of the chair. It wasn't coincidence. She'd been doomed from the start, her parents, her previous encounters with Voldemort… it was all pre-determined. Was there such a thing as free will? The reality of prophecy, of fate weighed on her. The prophecy said "he" but that was semantics; the magics of Divination did not define gender. Every prophecy was about a "he" if that was the de-facto identifier of the language but many were fulfilled by "she". There was no sex to prophecy. Magic didn't really understand gender. The only reason girls usually hit majority first was because it was triggered by puberty, anyway.

"I cannot tell you what your 'power' is, Hadley," Dumbledore continued a minute later. "But I believe it stems from the same source as the protection your mother left for you. Love. I cannot tell you how that is a power, only that Voldemort can never and will never understand it, and in all likelihood the fact that you do may well save you in the end. Perhaps it will be love of a man or a woman, or love of your friends or a child… but I believe that it is love. And I hope you have many years before you need to prove me wrong."

Hadley only nodded, deep in thought. Or, rather, her mind was so full of thoughts that she could barely wade in to pick one out and develop it. She would have questions. In a few minutes or a few days, or even in a few months, but she would have questions for the aged Headmaster.

If he refused them, there would be hell to pay.

"I realize that leaves you with much thinking to do, but the second matter came to my attention recently, and I believe you would appreciate having it taken care of sooner rather than later," Dumbledore sighed. "You must have questions, but do mull them over and send me an owl when you know what you want to know. For now, I must inform you that your parents will was never executed."

Hadley's head snapped up. Not executed? "My parents died thirteen years ago sir, how could it not have been executed in thirteen years?" Hadley didn't like this any more than the prophecy, she could tell.

"Because I wanted you safe behind the blood wards at your aunt's house, it could not be executed as directed," Dumbledore pulled out a sheaf of parchment. "I do not know your financial holdings, that is for the goblins to tell you, but the release of this will has several other stipulations. That you not live with the Dursleys, which can now be done safely. That, should you please upon reaching the age of thirteen, you be able to gain emancipation, if it within reason to do so. There is a list of acceptable guardians among the those parchments, if you would rather have one, since it seems your cousin neglected to make his taking you in more official."

"I…" Hadley shook her head. "I can get emancipated? That's like being an adult, right? Would I be able to do magic out of school? Or would it just be things like signing my own permission forms?"

"Performing magic out of school still requires that you be seventeen and possess at least three OWLs, emancipated or otherwise. However, you would have greater responsibility for yourself, pay tax on your holdings, and yes, you would be able to sign your own forms and contracts. You won't be able to do so until the end of the year at the earliest – trust me, Hogwarts will be a sight for Christmas you won't want to miss! – but you may find it to your advantage."

Hadley frowned deeply. "You... stopped my parents' will from being executed before, what's to say you won't again? You haven't given me many reasons to trust you right now, sir," but she did trust him, even as she said those words. He could have waited until it was too late to tell her about the prophecy. He could have refused to tell her about her parents' will - ever - and she never would know anything that was in the folder clasped in her hands.

She was afraid of what was inside it. Would her parents have included knowledge that Peter Pettigrew was their secret keeper? When had this will been written? If it was going to be executed now, the parts that wren't simply "up to her", would someone try to contest the will and not let Hadley do the things her parents had wanted her to be able to do?

The idea that someone would go against it, the seemingly holy documents in her hands... but Dumbledore had already done that, hadn't he?

With a frown, Hadley stood. "If I might be excused? I have class in the morning, and… a lot to think about." Like her complete and utter submission to fate. "I'll send Hedwig when I know what I want to say sir. Because right now, if I try to ask you any questions, I'm going to start screaming, and I don't want to do that."

"Of course, Ms Potter."

Hadley didn't sleep that night.

"Oh no you don't!" Hadley half jumped out of her skin when she heard Moody's bellow and watched as his wand whipped forward, issuing a beam of white straight for her. She was about to drop to the floor when it whizzed by her right ear and, she realized, most certainly struck one Draco Malfoy.

Though tempted to ask why the Professor had sent a hex at all, especially one that nearly hit her, Hadley was more compelled to spin around and see precisely what had been done to Malfoy.

At her side, Ron burst into hysterical laughter.

"Step away from him, boy!" Moody snarled as he stomped over. Goyle quickly backed away from the white ferret that was on the ground, trying to figure out the use of its legs. "Try and hex the girl when her back is turned, will you? I'd think your father would have taught you what happens when you do that!" His wand flicked, again without any incantation, and suddenly Malfoy was bouncing on the floor.

Hadley was frozen while the other students laughed at the sight. After all it was Draco Malfoy who was being bounced about, so why not laugh?

But Hadley wasn't laughing, and would not be.

Although Hadley hadn't ever seen a ferret in person before, she was fairly certain those weren't just squeaks of fear. A ferret shouldn't be making those sorts of screeching pained noises unless something was getting broken. And it wasn't too hard to believe that something was getting broken when Professor Moody was smacking him against the floor and walls with such… vigor.

As Hadley was about to try to intervene, regaining her wits, Professor McGonagall stormed to the rescue.

Crabbe and Goyle showed their true Slytherin colors, vanishing from the scene the moment the Head of their rival house appeared, no longer caring to save their friend. Cowards the lot of them.

"We do not use magic as a punishment! Alastor, I'm sure that Dumbledore told you we assign detentions or take points! We do not assault children!" McGonagall was suddenly more intimidating that Hadley had ever seen her. Students had joked that she seemed like more of a Ravenclaw, strict and academic, but they forgot she had been one of the first female Quidditch players ever fielded by a school team, and most had no idea of the reputation as a spitfire she had had in her years as a student of Gryffindor house.

"Fine, then I'll do that," he cancelled his spell, dropping Malfoy a good five feet. The ferret squealed in pain again, leaning heavily to one side. Just what had Moody done to the guy?

McGonagall's wand whipped out and reversed the transformation, leaving Malfoy a disheveled heap. He pulled himself up on the wall, or would have if Moody hadn't grabbed him roughly by the favored arm and yanked him up. Malfoy's face was decidedly not pretty.

"Come on then, so we can discuss your punishment," there was something decidedly vindictive in Moody's words.

"Sir! You've more than punished him enough!" Hadley raced forward; Ron suddenly stopped laughing.

"Excuse me, Ms Potter?" Moody turned and looked at her with his regular eye, the large blue one looking out the side of his head at Malfoy. "You heard your head of house, I'm supposed to assign detention."

"Sir, with all due respect, you've already done more than is legal to Malfoy." Why wasn't anyone backing her up? Why did McGonagall's protection end when Moody agreed to no longer hex students? "If he complained to the Governors, you would be fired on the spot. Hermione told me that in Hogwarts, A History, a law was passed in the sixties that made it so teachers can't do that anymore. You'll already be facing an inquiry." She hoped she was remembering this right. But this was wrong. Malfoy was injured, he been attacked by a teacher, and people thought it was funny.

Would they laugh if it was her? The Slytherins would, or maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they would see it like she saw it, like she thought people should see it, that just because Hadley hated the victim didn't make him not a victim.

Just because he was going to hex her behind her back, probably a trip jinx, didn't mean he deserved to be smashed about. Was that what aurors did, then?

"Listen Potter," Moody growl was lower than before, more threatening. Hadley straightened her spine.

"As the party wronged by Draco Malfoy I have the right to declare the slight null and void," Hadley had her brow furrowed as she tried to remember exactly what Hermione had told her. Hermione had found it in a book of wizarding law last year while looking for information to get Buckbeak free. It was the magical equivalent of saying you don't want to press charges, but it also showed that if charges were pressed anyway, magic would be on your side. They had entertained the notion of trying to get Malfoy to say it, to rescind his accusation against the hippogryff, but apparently it only worked between humans. Hermione had made sure they both learned it just in case. For Hermione, in case she angered someone who could make her life hell, since as a muggleborn she wouldn't have the political clout of an old family - like, say, the Malfoys. For Hadley… well, just in case. "You say he was going to attack me while my back was turned. All I saw was you hex him and smack a ferret against the walls. Sir."

Hadley was stiff, her jaw clenched and her fingers itching for her wand. They would be no defense against Moody. Apparently the man was more trigger happy than the rumors Ron and the other Weasleys had mentioned since his appointment as Defense Instructor. If he decided she was a threat, the fact that McGonagall was standing behind her wouldn't stop him from doing what he felt he had to. His wand was still in his hand, his eyes were both narrowed and on her, his scarred face twisted into what might have been an expression of revulsion.

Merlin, had she ever been so terrified in her life? She could hear her pulse, feel her body telling her to run run you idiot he'll DO something! Forget Quirrell, Voldemort, the basilisk, and even dementors. Hadley had the terrible feeling that, next time she faced a boggart, she knew exactly what she would see.

"Alastor, Ms Potter is correct," McGonagall finally came to her aid. Hadley relaxed, just a bit. She had a protector, for now. She'd done it right. This, this was something an adult should make better. "I will be required to report this to the Headmaster. Further punishment of Mr Malfoy by you will be seen as prejudice and a lack of remorse. Ms Potter, if you would kindly escort Mr Malfoy to the Hospital Wing? I need to continue this discussion with Professor Moody."

Hadley stomach dropped a bit, but she did her best to hide it. Of course she had to help Malfoy to the hospital wing. His goons had ditched and she'd practically volunteered to do it by being the only person willing to stand up for him.

Still, better to feel awkward as she gently slung Malfoy's good arm around her shoulder than to be half paralyzed with fear that a teacher would attack her. Sweet Circe, Quirrell really had wrecked her. Hadley looked around to see Hermione and Ron slowly backing away. Or, rather, Ron backing away and Hermione trying to stop him, sending Hadley an apologetic look.

Alone, then. Right.

"I'm sorry I have to do this the muggle way," Hadley apologized as she started leading Malfoy away from the scene. The crowd had dispersed entirely, and McGonagall was chastising Moody in the hall for his blatant unprofessional behavior. Better Malfoy than that, certainly. "I haven't got a hang on Mobilicorpus yet, and I think you've been floated around enough today."

Malfoy said nothing. A good half of his weight was leaned on her, but he pretended she didn't exist. Typical. It was easier for him to pretend that he was going to the Hospital Wing on his own rather than admit that Hadley Potter, his arch nemesis, was helping him.

To be honest, Hadley was sort of pretending she wasn't helping Malfoy along either. Better for both their sanities.

If they were lucky, no one else would see this.

Potters and luck, of course, had a shaky relationship. Hadley heard footsteps coming from the next hall they were to take, and she sighed, resigned to whatever comments some random person in the school would have. Or not so random, as it turned out.

Harry rounded the corner ahead of them and gave what Hadley could now interpret as the disbelieving version of his basic expression. Though his body was less tense upon sighting them than when turning the corner, something about him indicated displeasure. "You're kidding, right? He was trying to hex you behind your back and you're taking him to the hospital wing?" Was Hadley hallucinating or was Harry actually sounding dubious, too? And how did he know what Malfoy had been about to do when Moody set on him? How did he know what Hadley was doing?

"Oh haven't you heard?" Malfoy snarled. "Perfect Hadley Potter, hero of the wizarding world. She has to save everyone doesn't she?"

It was only the knowledge that Malfoy was probably just trying to assuage his wounded pride that kept Hadley from punching him. She settled for glaring at both Slytherin wizards. Honestly! Couldn't Malfoy accept that she was doing something nice? And couldn't Harry stop saying weird things? "You said it yourself, Malfoy. I'm a 'hero', right? Real heroes don't pick and choose who they save, y'know."

Malfoy sneered. "You were shaking like a leaf-"

"And you were being bounced about as a ferret," Hadley snapped back. This week had already been too much, and she still had Defense to "look forward to" later in the week. "Could you just shut up, and make this trip as painless as possible for the both of us? Bye Harry." Hadley started pulling Malfoy with more strength than she thought she had.

Harry stared after her, frowning. "Bye then," his voice was low and Hadley barely caught it.

What she did catch was Malfoy's mutters calling Harry a traitor to the house of Slytherin. When asked later, Hadley was certain Madam Pomphrey believed her when she said that stepping on Malfoy's toes had been a complete accident.

Author's Note: I just (aka May 18, when I was writing this chapter) read an interesting fic, Girl in the War by AstridFire. I don't read many fem!Harry stories, and after reading that one I remembered why. Not because I didn't like that one, but because after reading it I went to go find a fem!Harry community to see how the genre has changed over the years, see what people have come up with.

What did I find? Utter shit. Really. The only good fem!Harry fics I've read in a while are Ell Roche's one-shots, Girl in the War (which writes Rose Potter differently than normal (for one she's a child beauty pageant princess)), and Araceil's works where Harry wasn't always a girl (specifically Auryn and Distance). Am I wrong? I want good ones. There are so many things that could be interesting with a girl Harry, but people usually write her as nothing a female Harry would actually be (completely ignoring or changing the circumstances of his childhood) or… Harry with boobs.

I want to see a fem!Harry where she's easily tricked into thinking boys love her for her. I want to see a fem!Harry who tries so hard to be a wallflower that she never goes on any dates until she's out of Hogwarts. I want a fem!Harry who's one of the guys, and I want a fem!Harry who's one of the girls. I want a fem!Harry who likes girls but tries being with boys anyway, because it's normal. I want a fem!Harry who won't take no for an answer, who was spoiled rotten by her aunt that always wanted a daughter, who strings boys along and dumps them when she finds a prettier one or she's bored or he's broke. I want a fem!Harry who buckles under the expectations of the wizarding world and gets plastic surgery or something so she can be "beautiful". I want a fem!Harry who is so destroyed by her life with the Dursleys, so desperate for any affection, that she'll do anything to get it.

But none of those are Hadley. Because Hadley is curious. Hadley is cautious. Hadley cares too much, even about Malfoy. Hadley is not any of the fem!Harry I want to see written. So someone else needs to write them. And if those have been written, and I mean well-written, I need someone to send them to me. Because I need to read them. So hard.

(Between beginning and ending this chapter, I did not sleep… that's about 10k words in one day-ish, since I wrote most of chapter 3 same night. I should really sleep. Four hours of that were spent drawing, including Harry and Hadley. Same image I mentioned in Chapter 1.)