Author's Notes:
As always, Harry Potter and everything around him does not belong to me. It's JK Rowling's sandbox, I'm just messing it up for her.
Chapter Seven
September came to an end with remarkable swiftness for Heather. She had never quite understood Oliver Wood or Angelina Johnson's intense fervor for practices until now. The pressure to bring home the cup for Gryffindor rested entirely on her shoulders, and it was a palpable presence. Several practices in she felt that her team had a decent chance of doing well, at least once they found a way to mesh together. Ron was probably the weakest link of them all, she told herself during their fifth practice. As they had last year, his nerves caused him to make mistakes and let in goals, which only made his nerves worse and let in even more. After a very rough hour and a half one Friday evening, Heather called a halt. The wind was starting to rise with the onset of a storm, and she for one had spent enough evenings frozen to her broom to relish having to do it again before winter arrived.
As she followed the team through the Entrance Hall, Heather saw Hermione waiting for them at the top of the Marble Staircase.
"It's ready" Hermione whispered to Heather and Ginny when she had pulled them aside.
"What is?" asked Heather, mind set firmly on a nice hot shower when she got upstairs. One of things that had changed most about her since embracing Heather was a deep dislike of being sweaty if a shower was anywhere nearby.
"Your potion" Hermione hissed trying not to be overheard.
That brought Heather back to the moment, and she gaped at her friend. "You mean it?"
Hermione nodded, grinning from ear to ear. At the first intersection on the first-floor, the three of them broke away from the rest of the team and dashed to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Heather no longer cared how grimy and sweaty she was from practice, her only thought was of starting her potions.
Once they had locked the door behind them Hermione moved the cauldron out to one of the sinks. It bubbled and smoked as it sat there, giving off a not entirely pleasant odor. Heather had halfway expected it to resemble the congealed mud appearance of Polyjuice Potion and so was pleasantly surprised. Hermione ladled some of it into a goblet, then filled four phials and sealed them.
"Here, this is for you to take now, and these will get you through the next few months." She said, handing Heather the goblet.
Excited and nervous, Heather raised the cup towards her lip, but before she could drink Hermione stopped her.
"I just have to ask, are you absolutely sure about this?" she asked.
"What do you mean am I sure?" Heather asked incredulously.
"I just, this is a huge change for you. Of course I love and support you, I just want to make sure you've completely thought this through."
Heather contemplated her for a moment, before raising the goblet to her lips and drinking the contents in one gulp. The potion burned as it slid down her throat, and seemed to radiate until every part of her body was on fire. It wasn't painful exactly, but it made her skin crawl. The effects only lasted a moment before they faded, leaving Heather somewhat winded. She looked at Hermione whose eyes had gone wide and said "One hundred percent sure."
After a moment Hermione's eyes relaxed and she smiled, before throwing herself at Heather for a bone crushing hug. Ginny joined in, causing Hermione to complain about how badly they smelled. After they broke apart, Hermione handed the four phials to Heather, who stuffed them into her robes.
"Remember, one of those every two weeks." She admonished, as if Heather could forget.
The next day Heather tried to determine if she felt any different. Even though she knew nothing would be noticeable yet, she still took an extremely long time taking in her reflection in the mirror after her shower. She cupped her chest in her hands, knowing she looked slightly foolish, but wishing longingly for the day there was something there.
Running her hands down her smooth stomach, which thanks to constant exercise during quidditch practice was completely flat, she took in the part of her anatomy that would change the most. She hadn't ever really considered it before as not belonging to her, or not being right for her body, but now that she knew that one day it would be gone, she couldn't stop looking. Without warning, from deep within her came a burning desire for it to be gone. It almost felt like that fiery sensation that had coursed through her last night, but stronger. A desire to take another dose hit her so strongly she staggered. To hell with what anyone else will think whispered the voice in the back of her mind. It had been a long time since she had heard it, but as usual what it said seemed to make the most sense in the world.
Rocking back slightly at the force of the feelings swirling inside of her, Heather dressed to cover up her body, which she no longer wanted to look at, and walked out to her bed. She had no idea what had just happened, or where those sensations had come from. Maybe it was a side effect that hadn't been in the book Hermione got the recipe from? Trying to curl up under her blanket proved useless that night. No matter how she lay and tried to relax into sleep, another surge of that wrongness feeling radiated through her.
Heather wished she had someone who knew about these things she could talk to, someone older. Last year, after telling Sirius everything, he had been there to help her understand the changes that were happening. Even if he didn't always have a clear answer, he at least knew what to say to make her feel better. She ran through the list of other adults she knew who might have words of comfort or explanation, but there was no way she could ask them without having to confide everything in one of them. Not for the first time since June she wished she could talk to Sirius again.
When she awoke the next morning, after having finally fallen asleep sometime after four, Heather felt as though her body had been ransacked by a pair of bludgers. All of her muscles ached in a way that no quidditch practice had ever done to her and her head felt like it was on fire at even the slightest noise. Breakfast was an excruciating affair trying to force herself to eat anything before their first lesson of the day, Potions.
On their way down the stone steps Hermione appeared very concerned at Heather's constant winces of pain.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"Yeah." Heather lied.
"It's your body isn't it? It hurts all over?"
Heather gritted her teeth in pain as her head spasmed. "I should have mentioned this to you." Hermione said, taking her arm and trying to support her.
"What are you talking about?" asked Heather.
"Well, the book did say that the first dose might be a bit rough." Hermione said sheepishly.
"And you didn't think to tell me that?" growled Heather.
Hermione didn't answer as they entered the dungeon but shot her an apologetic look.
Potions did not go well. Heather was snappish the entire time and had difficulty reading the Prince's writing, causing her potion to melt her cauldron in much the way Neville used to. Slughorn affably cleared up the mess with his wand, saying that even the best potioneers had their off days. That night she collapsed into bed, ignoring Ron's questioning looks and fell almost immediately asleep.
October blew in with remarkable force this year. Seemingly overnight the temperature in the castle dropped to freezing levels and the weather outside was almost always a stony grey. It took several days for the aches and pains to leave Heather's body, but when they did she felt better than she had in a while. With her ability to focus returned, she attacked her studies to make up for lost time, despairing slightly at the mountain of homework that had built up in so short a time. During their next charms lesson Justin made a comment about her looking better, which made Heather go all warm inside.
That evening she was alone in the library working on homework for Slughorn while Hermione and Ron were doing their weekly prefect duty. Looking up after deciphering a particular difficult passage on antidotes for her essay, she was surprised to see Hannah Abbot striding purposefully towards her.
"Hi" Heather said taken aback as the tall blonde girl sat down. Hannah was rarely seen outside the company of Ernie or Justin, and had never approached her like this before.
"Ok, Potter. What's the deal?" Hannah asked, her tone intent. Her eyes bored into Heather, making her feel rather uncomfortable.
"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about." Heather said trying to placate her. It didn't work.
"Oh yes you do. You've been making eyes and twirling your hair at Justin since term started. Now we've all heard the rumors about you and all-" she stopped and looked closely at Heather. "It's true isn't it."
Heather gazed around quickly to see if anyone was close enough to hear them. It seemed as though they were alone, but that didn't do much to assuage her nerves.
"It is!" cried Hannah. Her tone and face made it seem like she found this to be good news, but Heather wasn't trusting that.
"So what if it is?" she asked, tensing slightly.
"No, it's not like that." Hannah said, "I'm really happy to hear it, I promise."
"So, what's with the third degree?" asked Heather.
"What all do you know about Justin?" Hannah asked, catching Heather off guard. Her tone had shifted just slightly, with a note of almost sadness mixed in.
"Err, he's muggle-born, a pretty good student, he's always been very polite. Except during our second year that is." She added this last part with a pointed expression to Hannah who looked away uncomfortably. Most of the school had been convinced that Heather had been the Heir of Slytherin and was attacking her fellow students, including Justin. The old anger over that had long faded, but Heather hadn't liked how Hannah had started this little chat.
"Okaaay," Hannah said, obviously slightly uncomfortable at that old memory, "What else?"
Heather contemplated for a minute. Honestly, she didn't know that much about Justin, having never spent much time around him outside of lessons. "Why don't you tell me what you feel like I need to know?" she countered.
"It's like this, Harry" The use of her first name, albeit her old name, startled Heather slightly. "Justin is….like you. He doesn't like girls like that, never has. He's come to deal with that, but doesn't think he can do anything with those feelings."
"Why not?" asked Heather, even though she was sure she already knew the answer.
In response Hannah waved around as if to indicate the entire school and gave what could only be an exasperated sigh. "Come on, you know how it is. I remember how vilely everyone treated you when Rita Skeeter was writing all of those nasty articles about you in our fourth year, so does Justin. Hufflepuff House might be a little more accepting of that sort of thing than the others are, but he saw all too clearly what happened to you."
"Yeah, I can understand that." Replied Heather, dropping her gaze. It was the same reason she was acting like she was still Harry Potter. As much as she wanted to be herself, and was starting to be more and more, the thought of being the object of whispers and gossip made her heart sink into her stomach.
"There's more." Hannah said, breaking in on her thoughts. "His parents, well they're very old school apparently. I don't know much about how muggles treat…people like you, but from what he's said they would probably disown him if he ever started dating a boy."
It was as if a house of cards collapsed inside of her. Any hope of getting to go out with Justin seemed to be fading rapidly with this new information. She couldn't fault him at all for feeling as though he had to hide himself. Somehow however, that didn't help the sinking sensation. It felt like a lead weight had settled in her chest, pulling her down onto the bench she was sitting on.
Hannah clearly saw everything Heather wasn't saying, well almost everything. "Listen, I'm not trying to tell you it can't happen. I just don't want to see you get hurt putting your energy into something that might not be able to be."
"So what do I do then?" asked Heather morosely.
"How about this," said Hannah, "I think that you and him would do pretty well together, honestly you'd make a cute couple. So maybe we work together."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you keep doing what you're doing, maybe pull back just a little though. In the meantime, I'll talk to him. Maybe together we can make this happen."
"Why are you doing this?" asked Heather as Hannah got up to leave.
"Because he's my best friend and I want him to be happy. Everyone deserves a chance to be happy." With that she turned and disappeared behind a row of books. Heather tried to continue working on her potions essay, but found herself replaying the conversation with Hannah over and over in her head. Why do things have to be so complicated? She asked herself.
Heather wasn't sure if Hannah had been able to talk to Justin or not. Three days later during Herbology she was pulled from class and told that her mother had just been found murdered by the Death Eaters. She left the school that day and didn't return.