Author's Notes: Alright, well since Heather now knows she is a girl, she will be using she/her pronouns when she is Heather or in her haven in the Room of Requirement.
As always, the world of Harry Potter does not belong to me but J.K. Rowling
Chapter Eight
When Harry collapsed into his four-poster bed that night, he fell asleep almost instantly. Exhaustion had been closing over him as he tried to sit there with Ron and Hermione. Both of them had noticed him stay back to talk to Cho but had left before they saw anything of what had happened. He had only been able to give them perfunctory answers to their questions before he had to go up to bed.
The events of the last twenty-four hours swirled through his dreams, with him constantly finding himself as Harry before suddenly realizing that that wasn't right. As night grew on his dreams changed, and he found himself feeling powerful. His body was tight and muscled, and he slithered along the floor of a dark passageway. There on the floor ahead of him sat a man, have covered by an invisibility cloak, fast asleep. Quietly he moved closer, tasting the air with his tongue. The man was fast asleep, his wand held lazily in his hand.
As Harry stealthily approached the man, he suddenly shifted and opened his eyes.
"Attack, now!" cried a voice in Harry's mind, and before he could register what the voice had said, he had coiled and launched himself forward. The man tried to raise his wand to defend himself but was too slow. Harry's fangs bit into his arm and chest, tasting the warmth and sweetness of the blood filling his mouth.
"Harry!" cried a voice, and hands shook him violently.
With a yell Harry bolted upright in his bed, sweat pouring down his face and body. Around him stood the other boys, Ron, Neville, and Dean looking concerned while Seamus had something akin to fear on his face. Harry tried to force his mouth to form the words to let Ron know that his dad had just been attacked but his body refused.
Neville went running from the room to get Professor McGonagall and by the time she got there Harry was slightly more under control. He told her about the dream and what had happened, and even though he could tell she didn't entirely know what to make of it, took him and Ron to see Dumbledore. In the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore listened to what had happened and began to act. After a momentary surge of relief that someone believed him, anger at Dumbledore's continued ignoring of Harry flooded through him.
It wasn't long before the other three Weasley's were summoned, and Dumbledore explained that they were all being sent to Grimmauld Place. As they gathered around the portkey that had just been charmed, Harry looked up at Dumbledore and for a moment their eyes met. In that split second, Harry's rage exploded anew, and a strong urge to attack, to bite, the fragile looking old man overcame him. With a yank behind his navel, Harry and the Weasley's were pulled into oblivion.
The next thing he knew the wind had been knocked from his chest as he landed roughly on the cold stone floor of the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. As the five of them attempted to untangle themselves from each other a voice from close by muttered "the blood traitor brats are back again…"
A loud slam cut off anything else Kreacher had to say, and as Sirius burst into the room he loudly shouted, "GET OUT!"
Sirius got them settled in around the table and they waited for news. Harry was asked to give another account of his dream, only making it seem like he was watching from above rather than being the snake. After he was done there was nothing more to do than wait for word from Mrs. Weasley.
In his bedroom that night, Harry lay awake listening to the noises of the house. He'd come to bed hours beforehand, shying away from the gladness that was filling the house with the good news of Mr. Weasley's good prognosis, but sleep was eluding him. Round and round his head went the thought of Voldemort possessing him and him being the weapon. He had even tried to run earlier, thinking he was putting everyone there in danger, but that idea had been quashed on directions from Dumbledore.
Giving sleep up as a bad job, Harry pulled on a robe and walked downstairs toward the kitchen. The house was quiet, everyone fast asleep in their own rooms. Harry half expected to find Kreacher prowling around, looking for Black family heirlooms to hide, but there was no sign of him. On the ground floor, as Harry was turning to go down to the kitchen, he heard a clink of a glass from the study. Struck with a strong feeling of déjà vu, Harry looked in to see Sirius sitting in a high-backed armchair, sipping a drink and staring into the fire in the grate. Without speaking, Harry crossed the small room and sat down with a faint plop. Sirius didn't react, almost as if he had expected Harry to show up.
"Can't sleep?" he asked
"No, too much to think about." Harry replied.
"I know the feeling" replied Sirius, refilling his drink.
Harry waited, expecting Sirius to say more but the older man just sat quietly.
"Sirius, I'm afraid." He admitted.
"I'd be worried if you weren't Harry." Sirius said comfortingly, tearing his eyes away from the fire to look at him.
"It's just, everything seems to happen to me. Everyone seems to be talking about me, and no one, no adult anyway, seems to be actually talking to me. Dumbledore won't, he just ignores me these days." Harry said, his anger at the headmaster returning.
Sirius didn't respond for a moment but seemed to consider his godson. "I remember what you told me this morning. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through Harry. You're right though that no one is talking to you. Adults have a tendency to do that around kids, sometimes without even realizing it." Sirius said almost as an excuse.
"It still isn't ok" replied Harry.
Again Sirius paused, then said "No, it's not. And if I've done that I apologize."
"You aren't as bad as the others." Then without meaning to he blurted out, "I've been thinking a lot about our conversation over the summer in the kitchen." It was true that he'd thought about it several times over the past few months, still wondering if Sirius should know about Heather.
"Oh?" asked Sirius, simply.
"Yeah." Harry replied, then fell into silence.
"You know, Harry," Sirius said, "I got the feeling that there was something you wanted to tell me the last time we talked like this"
"What do you mean?" asked Harry, trying to play off his rising nerves.
"I think you already know what I'm talking about. Something that I wouldn't understand." He replied evenly. His voice was calm, with no trace of harsh emotion in it. Harry felt comforted that Sirius seemed to really want to know what was happening in his life. Harry sat quietly in his chair, wrestling with himself and his will to spill everything he was keeping inside. It was almost three whole minutes before he spoke. Sirius was patient, he could see the gears turning behind the younger man's eyes, and sipped his firewhiskey.
"It was the word godson. I didn't know why but I didn't think that word fit me."
"How so?" asked Sirius.
"The son part of it sounded wrong. Like it wasn't right for me." Harry answered, trying to keep his voice sounding normal.
"Harry, does this have anything to do with what Rita Skeeter wrote about you last year?" Sirius asked.
Harry nodded and shrugged at the same time.
"Do you remember what I told you in that cave near Hogsmeade? That no matter what it won't change how I feel about you?"
"Even if I don't want to be a boy anymore?"
It came out as barely more than a whisper and for a moment Harry wasn't even sure he'd actually said it or just thought it very loudly. He hadn't meant for the words to come out at all, but something in what Sirius had just said had almost made him want to challenge it, to see just how far that acceptance would go. When he looked at Sirius and saw his expression, he knew he'd said the words loud enough to be heard. He waited, half expecting to see disgust or revulsion fill his godfathers face. There was shock, which was expected, and silence filled the room. Finally, Sirius found the ability to speak.
"Tell me more" he said simply, and Harry could tell that he too was trying to keep his tone calm.
"I just, I don't always want to be a boy anymore."
"What do you want to be then, a girl?" asked Sirius.
"Yes. I've been dressing as one at school sometimes for over a year now." Harry said to the fire, not able to meet Sirius's eyes.
Of all the reactions to that statement he might have expected, Sirius almost barking out a laugh was anywhere close to the top of the list. "H-how do you manage that?" he asked in between laughs.
For a moment Harry was hurt at Sirius laughing at what he was telling him, but he caught the look of almost impressed incredulity on his godfather's face. Realizing that Sirius wasn't laughing at him in that way, he took heart. "We've been using the girl's toilet on the second floor since no one uses it."
"You mean the one with that nutter of a ghost haunting it? Yeah, I remember it, it was my job to explore it when we wrote the map. That ghost chased me out of there screaming"
"That's the one. Its abandoned so we've kind of made it our clubhouse." Harry answered, still not believing that this was the direction the conversation was going.
"And I'm guessing by 'we' you mean Hermione and some other girl? Something tells me you haven't included Ron in on this."
"Hermione and Ginny, yeah. And no, we haven't told Ron. I don't know how he would take it."
"No, he doesn't seem like the type that would." Sirius admitted
Harry didn't really have a response to that so the two lapsed into silence.
"So, what Rita Skeeter wrote about you is true then?" Sirius asked, breaking the quiet.
"Most of it yeah, I do use girl's stuff so I smell like one most of the time, and I do like other boys."
"She's a cow, Harry. Nothing she wrote last year was anything more than garbage. It doesn't matter what or who you like, not to me. I cant say that will be the truth for everyone in the wizarding world, but not to me."
"Even if that means I don't want to be a boy anymore?"
"Even then. Like I've said, you're my gods-godchild. That means that I'm going to be there for you no matter what."
A lump formed in Harry's throat these words and the look of complete sincerity on Sirius' face. "You really mean that?"
"Harry, there have been witches and wizards for ages who have used magic to transform themselves all kinds of ways. Some become Animagus and live as animals for the rest of their lives, some have been like you and wanted to change their appearance or gender. As a matter of fact that was how the Polyjuice potion was accidentally invented. It's not common, and by most of the wizarding world's standards its unnatural and wrong, but that doesn't mean it is. Most of the old pureblood families have had people like you in them, and they've been hushed up. But the world is changing, Harry. I'm not saying that everyone is going to accept you or support you, but you already know that. What matters is that you are who you are."
"I don't really even know who I am" Harry admitted quietly
"Then you aren't any different from any other boy, or girl, your age. Cause let me tell you something Harry, who you think you are at fifteen, isn't always who you end up being. Everyone changes, it's part of growing up. The only difference is how we change, and if we end up better for it. Now, if that means that you stop being a boy and become a girl, that's up to you. Just know that nothing you choose will make me, or anyone who truly cares about you, love you any less."
"Thanks, Sirius. I don't know why but I was afraid to tell you this." Harry said, a warmth like he felt in the Room of Requirement filling his chest.
"That's because you haven't had much experience with convicted murders. We're an accepting bunch." Sirius grinned at him over his glass.
Before he could stop himself, Harry burst out laughing. "You're right," he gasped out, "I should try and meet more of them."
Sirius started laughing along with him. "So, what do I call you now?" he asked
"Heather." Said Harry, feeling the voice in his head smile with approval.
"Ok Heather, it's nice to meet you." Sirius said evenly, and then stood up and pulled his goddaughter into a tight hug.