Joe's Note: After reading through a great big pile of reviews for Chapter 12 - 104 across two sites, to be exact - 'dresses' edged out 'death' by roughly a third again as much. For those of you who voted for the 'death' option and are uncertain about where things might go from here now that the 'dresses' option has edged yours out, I'd like you to stick around until at least Chapter 14: 'All in the Family'. That'll mark Narcissa's return and the beginning of that subplot. If - after reading the setup and her reasoning - you still don't think I can deliver a story you'd like to read, then… well, you still won't have read any gender-bending so you haven't really lost anything, have you? And if you were one of the people who actually wrote 'I know it'll turn the story into H/D so I'll drop it' despite me explicitly saying that not only will Draco not be with Harry, but Draco will not have any sort of romantic interest whatsoever? I kinda lose respect for you as human beings due to your complete and total inability to comprehend simple English.
Dedications & Thanks: To Nicholas, Alexander, Howard, Alonsis2, Connor, MJ, Daniel, Christopher, Fablesrogue, Morgan, Janne, Eric, DireSquirrel, Joseph, Jason, mpop, RileyWestfall, bloodylord, Luke, Zachary, Marc, Ziryo, Elliot, Crusifikz70, Timothy, Leigh, Chris, George, Koby, Ken, Dimitria, William, Invernos, Paul, Pat, Joel, Kentucky Fried Dragon, Warren, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on , and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

June 24, 2006
Number Four Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey, England, United Kingdom

Yawning, Dudley Dursley stumbled into the kitchen and blinked sleepily at the sight that greeted him. His father was sitting at the table looking sour as he read the morning paper, and his mother was… leaning over the stove? Where was the freak? "Mum? Where's breakfast?"

Petunia scowled and pointed at the cabinet. "If you can't wait until I'm done, eat a bowl of cereal." There was a pop from the skillet on the stove and she yelped before yanking her hand back. "Damn freak and his goddess. Summers are supposed to be my vacation from cooking. Wonder if he ever came home last night…"

"He did." Both of his parents turned their attention to him and Dudley squirmed. "Right after you went to bed, I heard some noise in my other bedroom. Harry came running out and went into the bathroom, and a girl followed him a few minutes later. She looked like that Illyria freak except without the blue. Then they came out and went downstairs. I think they were talking about sandwiches."

Petunia raised an eyebrow. "Sandwiches?" Hurrying over to the fridge, she opened the door. "Damn it! They ate almost all of the turkey! That was supposed to be three days worth of sandwiches for Vernon!" Slamming the fridge shut, she pointed at the ceiling. "Dudley! Go wake your cousin up. I don't care who he brought home with him, we're going to have a talk about his place in this house."

Groaning, Dudley turned around and stomped back through the house. He debated shouting up the stairs, but figured his mother wouldn't be terribly amused by him doing something she could have easily done herself. And given that he'd actually lost some weight this year thanks to his boxing coach's exercise regimen, he really didn't want to start slipping back into bad habits over the summer hols. So instead, he braced himself for the upcoming confrontation as he lumbered up the stairs. As he reached the top, he frowned as he debated how to handle things. Pound the door and shout first, he decided, and go in only if he had to. "Potter! Wake up!"

No response.

"Potter!"

"Bloody hell, Dudley! Stop shouting and go in there if you have to!"

Dudley's eyebrows shot skyward at his mother's shout. Not only was she cooking and trying to talk him into doing chores - not that he needed much convincing; they'd be a decent way to keep in shape until he went back to Smeltings - but now she was yelling? It wasn't just that she was yelling at him, it was that she was yelling at all. That wasn't how Normal People behaved, according to her. This whole mess with his cousin was really affecting her badly, Dudley realized. It made him a bit curious what Harry and his friend had said to his father… what they knew that he didn't. And where the other girl had come from at some point after they'd gotten back from King's Cross. And how their whole shapeshifting thing worked; it was something out of Star Trek or a few of the video games he played. Oh, and… wait, he could probably ask them if they ever came out. Which was something he was supposed to be seeing to. Knocking softly, then louder, then pounding on the door all failed to raise a response as well. Dudley grimaced, braced himself, and then turned the doorknob. Stepping into what had formerly been a smallish bedroom used to store his spare toys, his jaw dropped as he took in the enormous room he'd entered.

The most obvious - and awe-inspiring - change was the size. While Dudley knew it was the result of some kind of spell and therefore a bad thing in his parents' mind, the fact that the entire ground floor of their house could have fit into this one room now blew his mind. There were two large chests of drawers against one wall, with Potter's ugly school trunk tucked between them. One had a hairbrush and a few of those creepy moving pictures on top of it, while the other was covered with hair ties, some make-up, and assorted other feminine effects. A window on another wall that was impossibly large given the dimensions of their house showed an equally impossible view of some tropical paradise, with palm trees swaying gently in the distance. And while he wasn't the most scholastically oriented person around, even Dudley had to appreciate the oversized hardwood desk that stretched beneath the window with two chairs in front of it, already covered with papers: neatly stacked on one half and strewn wildly over the other.

Even the bed was impressive and a far cry from the rickety, third-hand one his parents had bought for Potter a few years ago. The replacement was a massive, four post bed with red hangings and bedding. And lying in the middle, with a blue-tinged blonde girl curled up against him on each side, was his cousin. A dozen different thoughts ran through Dudley's head, but he quickly and ruthlessly discarded all of them. Because as much fun as doing something horribly rude would be, at least one of the three people in that bed was capable of using magic without getting in trouble. Probably two, if the girls really were twins, and possibly all three. And while cosmetic surgery could get rid of a pig's tail, magic had a spell for driving off an invisible creature that could suck your soul out. Who knew what they could do to him?

In the end, Dudley settled for the simplest and safest route. "Potter!" The trio stirred and his cousin's eyes cracked open. "Mum wants to talk to you downstairs. Now." His cousin offered a grunt rather than a coherent reply, but pulled out of the twins' grasp and sat up on the bed rather than ignoring him outright. Dudley decided that was good enough for him, and beat a hasty retreat.

Rumbling back down the stairs, Dudley wandered back into the kitchen. "Woke him up." Throwing himself down into the chair across from his father, Dudley stared at the box of cereal and bowl sitting on the table. His mother was serious? Shrugging, he poured himself a bowl of Alpen and added milk. Considering what his father liked to eat for breakfast, he realized, he was probably better off with this than what his mother was making. Then something occurred to him: while he had no intention of getting cursed for tormenting his cousin and his friends, they wouldn't be dumb enough to attack an adult for doing the same thing… right? "Question, mum. Did you know Potter and his friends are sleeping together?"

"What?!"

Harry groaned and looked around the room as Dudley retreated, eyes landing on the mechanical alarm clock that Tonks had set out on the nightstand. Eight o'clock in the morning. Bloody hell. Between the fighting and the talking and the warding and the eating and then even more talking, he'd gotten to bed at half three. It was far too early to be getting up.

Leaning across one of the two girls in his bed, Harry grabbed his glasses from where they sat next to the clock and slid them on. The world slid into focus and he smiled. He had to admit, he was spoiled by the luxurious quarters he had at Hogwarts - even if he had to share them with four other people - and so the prospect of returning to his tiny room at Privet Drive wouldn't have filled him with cheer even if his relatives were decent people. But thanks to Tonks, his tiny room was now a master bedroom fit for a king.

Or rather, a God-King and her Qwa'ha Xahn. And their incredibly reluctant sidekick.

Harry looked to one side, and then the other. Now, which one was which? Lifting the covers, he stared down at the identical bodies lying on either side of his, wearing the same white tank top and shorts. Bugger. Padma and Parvati generally lacked Fred and George's sense of humor about being mistaken for each other, and he doubted Illyria would be any more amused if he called her Tonks by accident. Reaching down, he squeezed one girl's forearm and then the other's. One was significantly harder than the other; Illyria's body, he was guessing, unless she'd gotten significantly better at 'reconstructing her shell' in the last five hours. Which meant that Illyria was between him and the edge of the bed, while Tonks was the one trapped between him and the wall.

The door burst open again before Harry could spend too much time basking in the successful use of his deductive reasoning skills, this time to admit his aunt rather than his cousin. Her eyes roamed back and forth around the room wildly before landing on the three of them, at which point she took a page out of Uncle Vernon's book and began to turn a dark red color. "Harry James Potter! Explain yourself! Now!"

"Gahh!" Tonks shot upright next to him on the bed, her hair shifting into a mass of gravity-defying Illyrian blue spikes as she looked around wildly. "What the bloody hell?"

Illyria's reaction was even more extreme: in the blink of an eye, she went from lying beside Harry on the bed to standing an arm's length away from Petunia near the door. Her pajamas rippled and transformed themselves back into her trademark catsuit as she tilted her head to the side. "Why have you disturbed us?"

Twitching, Petunia held up the mostly empty bag that had contained a large amount of sliced turkey before their little midnight snack the night before. Rather than face off with Illyria, though, she wisely turned to look at Harry as she aired her grievances. "You come and go at weird hours, you eat our food, and now I find out your unnatural little girlfriends are sleeping with you? Oh no. No no no. I don't care who she is, or what standards your freak society has, but as long as you're staying under our roof? You are going to behave like someone with an ounce of decency and-"

The rant petered out with a gurgle as Illyria's hand shot forward and curled around the older woman's throat, and then she hoisted Petunia up into the air. "You are an odd person to lecture about decency, Petunia Dursley. Or have you so soon forgotten the way you treated Harry when he was younger, or even up until the end of last summer? A slave. A burden." Petunia's mouth worked soundlessly as she tried to mount a defense, only to have Illyria take one step to her left before slamming Petunia back against the bedroom wall. "It is useless to lie to me, Petunia. I can walk his memories and live them as my own. I know every single abuse that you, your husband, or your son has ever heaped upon him."

As much as Harry appreciated finally having someone who would stand up for him, his aunt… actually wasn't that essential, come to think of it. The blood wards were gone, replaced with protections of Illyria's own design. Still. Even if they didn't need her alive, there was no reason to kill her. "Illyria." The God-King looked over at him, raising one eyebrow curiously, and he sighed before shaking his head. "Even as easily as you could do it… she's not worth it. And while she might not be completely innocent, she doesn't deserve to die for it." The other eyebrow rose slowly. "If you kill everyone who's ever done something wrong, who will you rule over someday?"

"…while my future kingdom would not miss this one woman, I see your point. Very well." Dropping Petunia to the floor, Illyria nudged the woman with her foot. "Go prepare a breakfast fit for one of my grandeur, and for my retinue as well." Thankfully, the older woman's self-preservation instincts kicked in and she beat a hasty retreat, crawling out the door before rising to her feet and racing down the stairs. Turning to look at Harry and Tonks, Illyria gestured imperiously. "Come. A proper breakfast is an essential part of a good day, according to Luna's memories."

Harry watched the blonde depart, her catsuit shifting back into what she'd worn to bed, and then turned to Tonks. "Well. You heard the lady. Evidently, it's breakfast time."

Grumbling softly, Tonks crawled across his body and then slid out of bed, grabbing her wand off the nightstand along the way. "Back when I was your age, I'd sleep until after noon when I was on summer hols. When did that stop being a thing that teenagers did?" She spared a moment to return her hair to its new, Illyria-esque normalcy before looking over at Harry and grimacing. "Oh, and before I forget… sorry about where my hand wandered to last night. I didn't mean to, you know, grab that."

"Wait, what?" Harry whipped his head around as his jaw dropped in disbelief, and then swore softly as he swung his legs a bit too hard on the way out of bed and cracked his left knee against the nightstand. Forcing the pain down, he stared at Tonks with wide eyes. "You… what?"

A blush spread over Tonks's face, looking very odd as it mixed with the blue patches. "You mean you didn't know that I..?" Harry shook his head rapidly and she blushed darker. "Oh. Bugger. Um, can we forget I said anything then?"

June 24, 2006
The Leyshon Home
Bethesda, Gwynedd, Wales, United Kingdom

DEATH EATERS SLAUGHTERED IN OTTERY ST. CATCHPOLE!

Aurors responded last night to a report of Death Eaters attacking the Lovegood home in Ottery St. Catchpole, but found something entirely different when they arrived at the scene. The house, reduced to a burnt-out husk, contained the body of Xenophilius Lovegood, 43, while the pieces of close to a dozen individuals were found scattered about the property. At the time of this printing, the Ministry has refused to release the names of any of the non-Lovegood deceased. However, a source within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement speaking under the condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to speak publicly revealed that most of the bodies are damaged to the point that identification is extremely difficult, meaning it may be some time before they release such information to the public.

The location of the battle, the fate of the attackers, and the brutality displayed at the scene make it doubtful that the attack was a random act of terror by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. As previously reported, a being claiming to be the Old One known as Illyria recently possessed Hogwarts fourth-year Luna Lovegood, age fourteen. While numerous students and parents reported Illyria leaving King's Cross in the company of Harry Potter, nobody we spoke to within the Ministry was authorized to discuss the pair's current location or their location at the time of the attack.

Did the Death Eaters attempt to avenge You-Know-Who's loss against Illyria in the Ministry Atrium, only to end up running afoul of the very creature who bested their master? Or has a new group of vigilantes decided to take the law into their own hands, fighting fire with fire in an effort to stamp out He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers?

Minister Fudge and Minister-Elect Scrimgeour both declined to comment.

Wanda smirked as she folded the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet back up, tucking a knut into the small bag attached to the owl's leg before sending it on its way. Harry and his little monster had been awfully busy the night before, it seemed. Ottery St. Catchpole, though… that was something like three hundred kilometers away, if she remembered her geography right. What on earth had they been casting that the backwash had been able to wake her from a sound sleep? Because the only spells she could think of that would require that kind of power wouldn't have left an Ottery St. Catchpole for the aurors to investigate afterward…

Speaking of her spell work, though… while her people were traditionally quite leery of magic and its users, the Kale of Bethesda didn't seem to mind taking advantage of her presence whenever they could. That meant she was going to have to work her arse off this morning if she was going to have any hope of popping down to London before her shift at the Douglas Arms. Wanda thrust her arm out, calling her red tiara to her hand. "Pietro. Canolbwyntio ar mi."

"Attend to me, Pietro. Cook for me, Pietro." There was a soft whoosh and then fingers began running through her hair, gathering up her thick black locks and guiding them to fall down her chest to the right of her neck so her back was accessible. The window's reflection of Pietro Leyshon shook his head, moving Wanda's hands to rest on her hips and then reaching in to go to work on the lacings of her corset. "Whatever happened to labor being the man's job while the woman took care of domestic tasks?"

Chuckling softly, Wanda shifted her grip on her tiara and pressed it against her stomach with one hand as she reached up with the other, conjuring a handful of sickle-sized golden discs in a series of red bursts of light and attaching them to her hair in random places. "I think it died a horribly messy death when our people figured out that I could repair vehicles or break machines down into scrap metal with a wave of my hand. But if you'd rather try your hand at being 'the Scarlet Witch' today, I wouldn't mind puttering around the house until it's time for me to go in to work…"

Pietro snorted before giving one last tug on the lacings, tying them into a bow in the middle of her back to keep the excess string out of her way. "Pass. I know where my strengths lie, and it's not in fixing dirty Transit vans and battered old caravans. Speaking of which, they might be sending you back to school soon. I've been seeing billboards for 'the all-new 2006 Transit' all over England, and the ones I've seen rolling out of Southampton seem to live up to that." Wanda leaned her head back onto her brother's shoulder with a groan at that; while her powers allowed her to bypass the need for spare parts and the like, she still needed to know how something worked to fix it. If Ford was substantially revising the favored van of the isle's Romani… ugh. "I'm coming with you to London."

"No, you're not." Straightening up and turning to face her fraternal twin brother, Wanda ran her fingertip over the back of her tiara, making the metal glow red as she layered it with the closest her powers came to a Sticking Charm. That done, she raised it to her face and pressed the cool metal against her skin. "Mostly because I know exactly why you want to come along."

Her hair ruffled as Pietro reached out and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her forward against his taller form. "Forgive me for not liking the idea of you running off to see some gorja who's gotten to see you topless and put his hands all over you."

Wanda shook her head as she reached up to caress Pietro's cheek; while she usually found his possessiveness cute, now definitely wasn't the time or place for this sort of behavior. "You know which way the winds are starting to blow for people like us, darling. And while I can retreat into the wizarding world thanks to my dual nature, you don't have that option. So shouldn't I do whatever it takes to try and secure allies for when we inevitably start running into people who are a lot less accepting than the the townspeople of Bethesda?"

"Not if it means letting Harry Potter touch you. That's my job."

"I don't know, making you think that you had some competition sure paid off for me last night." Wanda leaned in and nuzzled Pietro's neck, pressing a kiss to the bruise that she'd 'forgotten' to mend before getting out of bed this morning. It was only fair, she thought, considering that she was still walking with a bit of a limp even after using her powers to heal herself… and repair their cracked headboard. Hopefully she'd be able to pass it off as being unused to walking on uneven roads in her heels. "Maybe I'll let him sign something else; see if that earns me a repeat performance."

Scowling, Pietro gave her a gentle push backward before turning and stalking off to the kitchen. At normal speed, even, undoubtedly intended to let her see how irritated he was. "In that case, why don't you go find Potter and ask him to cook you breakfast this morning? Because I'm not."

Wanda stared at her brother's retreating back in disbelief. "Keep acting like a little bitch, and I'm going to turn you into my fraternal twin sister! Just in time for your period!" Great. Now she had one more thing to squeeze into her busy morning. Stomping across the living room, she grabbed a red cloak off the hook near the front door before storming outside. Then she came to an abrupt stop, not wanting to mow down any of the half-dozen people waiting for her. "Bore da?" Good morning?

"Bore da, Dewines Rhudd." One of the men held out a plate that Wanda cautiously accepted before perking up as she realized what it was: laverbread cakes. With enough color to them to make her suspect that there was bacon or some other protein mixed in. Hah! Take that, Pietro! "Cyrhaeddodd rhai roma yn hwyr neithiwr; maent angen eich help arbennig yn wael iawn." Some Kale arrived late last night; they need your special help very badly.

Well wasn't that just great? Wanda had been hoping to rush through her work and sneak out for an hour or two, and now she was getting more dumped on her plate. And the newly arrived Kale had to be in particularly bad shape if her clan was willing to share her with them; she still fought with them on a regular basis over her decision to take a night job at one of the local pubs rather than devote all her waking hours to helping the clan. "Iawn. Gadewch i ni fynd i'r gwaith." All right. Let's get to work, then.

June 24, 2006
Number Four Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey, England, United Kingdom

Despite getting off to a bit of a rough start, Petunia eventually settled in and managed to churn out a decent meal for them. It didn't really surprise Harry; she'd been the one to teach him how to cook in the first place, and him departing for Hogwarts had forced her to dust those skills back off. Privately, though, Harry thought a full English was a bit much; it left him feeling a bit bloated and lethargic rather than ready to face a busy day. Speaking of which… "What's officially on the agenda for today?"

Before Illyria could respond, an owl came whizzing down the chimney and circled the kitchen twice before coming in for a landing on Harry's shoulder. Vernon jerked in his seat before planting his hands on the edge of the table and slowly rising to his feet. "I… am going to work now. Because I don't care if she is a goddess who can beat that Voldyshorts character who killed your parents. If I stay here, I'm going to do something that ultimately ends up getting me turned into a frog or some other unnaturalness."

The floor vibrated as Vernon stomped off and Harry reached up to untie the letter attached to the owl's leg. "Take a bit of bacon if you want, there's plenty." That was unusual but true; for whatever reason, Dudley had stuck to the bowl of cereal he'd been working on when Harry came downstairs even after his mother had put food on the table, meaning there was more than enough of everything to go around. The owl hooted gratefully and hopped down onto the table as Harry looked at the letter. It bore an unfamiliar seal that Illyria quickly supplied belonged to Gringotts, and addressed to… him and Tonks? Interesting.

Leaning toward Tonks and her plate full of toast, Harry opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment inside. Unfolding it, his eyes flicked back and forth as they raced down the page, and then the same despair he'd felt the night after the Department of Mysteries came crawling right back. The goblins wanted him and Tonks to come in and discuss their respective portions of Sirius's will. It was official, then. Sirius was dead. And it was all hi-

'We shall not be revisiting this conversation, Harry Potter.' Looking over at Illyria, Harry winced as he found a pair of icy blue eyes glaring at him. 'We have been over this, and it is not your fault that he is dead. Even Tonks, one of his blood relatives, does not blame you. Those who are actually responsible have either admitted responsibility or been dealt with. Why must you angst needlessly over something beyond your control?'

'But-'

Growling softly, Illyria leaned in and fisted her hand in the front of Harry's shirt before pulling him in for a kiss. It felt strangely clinical, like how Harry imagined Hermione might kiss a boy after reading a few books about it. The taste of breakfast - complete with the Tabasco sauce that Illyria had liberated from the back of one cabinet - didn't exactly help things any, either. It wasn't exactly how he envisioned his first kiss with the being he'd be spending the rest of his life with, but it beat Cho's kiss by a long shot. And as long as she didn't follow it up with an insult, it'd beat Su's too. 'Luna noticed that girls sometimes engaged in such actions as a way to prematurely end arguments that they did not wish to engage in. Was she correct?'

Harry couldn't help it: he laughed. Tonks, Dudley, and his aunt were staring at the two of them like they'd grown extra heads, but he couldn't help it. 'I don't know. If you start doing that whenever I try and argue with you, it's just going to make me want to argue with you more…'

Blue eyes widened and then Illyria furrowed her brow in thought. 'Perhaps I need to reconsider my tactics, then. Still. No more angsting. We have things to do today.' Taking knowledge of the letter's contents from his mind, Illyria took the conversation audible for Tonks's sake. "Given that I wished to visit Gringotts to withdraw money, their desire to see you dovetails with my own plans. From there, we can proceed out into Diagon Alley proper to obtain certain necessary items. Perhaps even visit Diurn Alley and locate this 'Kat-Kit' of which Susan spoke."

"The squib-run joint that sells all the cool clothes? I know where that is. Can't afford any of their stuff on my pay, but that doesn't mean I can't window shop to my heart's content." Tonks nibbled on the edge of a piece of toast for a few seconds before pointing it at Illyria. "You should probably visit the DMLE at some point today. They're going to want to talk to one of us about the mess you two made at the Rookery last night. If I go in, I'll be forced to answer questions because I'm an auror. Harry, I'm not sure how they'd handle. Too many factors at work there. Anyway, Harry and I both have good reasons not to go, not to mention that Gringotts wants to see us. You? They're scared of you. And Gringotts doesn't want you. So why don't you go to the Ministry and we'll-"

One blonde eyebrow rose as Illyria regarded her doppelgänger. "You seem to be under the mistaken impression that looking like me gives you the right to make plans as if you were in fact me."

Tonks cringed and scooted a little further around the kitchen table to get away from the God-King. "Err, that is to say, we could do things that way if it pleased you?"

"An acceptable plan. After breakfast, we shall catch the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley and I will floo to the Ministry from the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps someone there will know what became of Bellatrix's skull, seeing as how Harry failed to take proper care of the trophy I gave him." Pausing, Illyria looked down at her plate before reaching for the bottle of Tabasco sauce again. "For now, though, we finish eating. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all."