Author's notes: I want to give another shout out to you, the readers who have made it this far into my story without giving it up or passing it off as a bad job. I really appreciate each and every one of you. Year 6 is winding down, and I'm already well into the planning stages for Deathly Hallows, which I'm very much looking forward to writing.

Harry potter and everything else in his magical world belongs to JK Rowling.

Chapter Eighteen

Heather awoke feeling very warm and comfortable, though with a strange buzzing in her head. Opening her eyes, she found that she was lying in a large room that she distantly recognized, but couldn't place at the moment. Her senses beginning to register, she found herself wearing a pair of her pajamas, but somehow that didn't seem right. She hadn't been wearing them when she had…well when whatever had happened to her happened, right? A small part of her mind wondered at not wearing a bra, but she didn't yet have the brain power to understand why that was an issue. It took her several minutes to remember where she was, and what had happened. Looking over to her right, she saw the blurry outline of Ron staring back at her. She gently pulled on her glasses and saw he was grinning.

"Nice of you to drop by."

"What happened?"

"You took a bludger to the head, mate. It was a doozy." Ron said

Heather reached up and felt the tender spot on the side of her head where the bludger must have it. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel right either.

Hearing voices, Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office door and bustled over to Heather's bed. "Ah, you're awake, Potter. Very good." She checked his temperature and pulse before pouring him a dose of potion into a flask and pressed it firmly into her hands. "Drink." Heather having had several potions forced on her in this room, drank it down in one shot, retching loudly with the aftertaste. While Heather was distracted trying not to empty her stomach onto her bed, Madam Pomfrey flicked her wand, conjuring privacy screens around them and charming them to block any noise from escaping.

"Potter," she began sternly, looking down at Heather, "While I was examining you earlier, I noticed that you seem to be experiencing several…abnormal body changes. You also were wearing girl's undergarments. I'm afraid I have to ask for an explanation."

Cursing her luck at being caught once again, Heather sighed. Well, at the very least she knew she could trust Madam Pomfrey's discretion. After all, Hermione had turned herself into half a cat during their second year and the matron had cured her without comment.

"I'm taking potions to become a girl." She answered.

"I see." Madam Pomfrey said briskly, then considered Heather for a moment. "And where preciesly are you getting these potions? I take it you aren't making them yourself"

"Hermione Granger has been brewing them for me."

"Of all the-" she exlaimed, shaking her head, "Why didn't you think to come to me about this?"

"What?" the thought had truly never occurred to her.

"Potter," Madam Pomfrey sighed wearily, "I am the matron of this school. It's my job to ensure that each and every student here is healthy. That means making sure that they aren't taking potions that could be potentially harmful."

"Harmful?" asked Heather.

"Yes. I know about the potion you're taking of course, though I've never met anyone who actually took it. If brewed incorrectly, it can have some very unpleasant, and potentially harmful side effects. How long have you been taking it?"

"Every two weeks for six months." Heather answered, not sure if she should be worried or not.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey said after giving Heather a firm stare, "I must admit that I didn't find anything that worries me in my exam of you, Potter. So let us be grateful for small miracles. Who knows about this?"

"Just my friends. Yo-you aren't going to tell anyone are you?" Heather asked concernedly.

Madam Pomfrey considered Heather sternly for a moment. "No, I will not, although goodness knows I should. I do however have conditions for my silence."

Heather gulped, "What are they?"

"First of all, Ms. Granger will no longer need to brew your potions herself. Every two weeks you will report to me here, where I will administer your dose and examine you. This is tricky business and your best hope of things not going wrong is to be checked out, often. Second, you will volunteer here in the hospital wing at least once a week. I had a student aide who graduated last year and I haven't found a replacement yet."

"But, I've got quidditch practice and homework-" began Heather, dreading yet another drain on her limited free time.

"Those are my terms. It's either that or I have to report you for taking such a dangerous potion unsupervised." When Heather didn't reply immediately, Madam Pomfrey continued, "Come now, Potter. Working for me won't be so terrible."

"Fine, I agree." Heather resigned herself.

"Excellent."

"You promise not to tell Professor McGonagall?" Heather asked

"No. I'm not sure what the school rules would say about this, but I can't see any harm in this remaining between you and me. At least for the time being that is. When you reach the point where this can no longer be hidden other arrangements may have to be made. Now, young lady, as that is what you are becoming, when is your next dose due?"
"Tomorrow. It's hidden in my trunk."

"I shall have a house elf retrieve it so I can test it, along with the appropriate underwear for your gender. In the meantime, you are to rest and recover."

Before she could leave Heather asked, "Can you send Dobby? I trust him."

"Of course, Potter. Now I want you to sleep."

With another wave of her wand, the curtains vanished, revealing a puzzled looking Ron. Madam Pomfrey returned to her office, and Heather explained what had just happened.

"Well, look at the bright side. At least she isn't reporting you to McGonagall." Ron said

"Yeah."
"Uhh, Heather. I just wanted to say, I'm sorry about what happened on my birthday. You've got to know I would never have said your name in front of Lavender if I'd been in my right mind.

"Of course I know that."

Further conversation was cut off by Madam Pomfrey emerging again from her office and pointedly extinguishing the lamps around the room. Heather rolled onto her side and looked out the tall window next to her bed. How many more people were going to find out about Heather this year, she wondered as she drifted off to sleep.

She spent most of the next day napping. There wasn't much to do in the Hospital Wing except stare at the ceiling or talk to Ron. Hermione came by after breakfast, as had the team, with the notable exception of McLaggen. Reports varied but it appeared he had been hexed by more than one person after costing Gryffindor the match. Ginny denied using her bat-bogey hex on him but Heather didn't believe that for a moment.

She stirred in her sleep and awoke to find someone sitting next to her bed. It was Justin, who looked incredibly uncomfortable sitting there. Apparently he had been waiting for her to wake up.

"Wha-Justin?" Heather gasped, full wakefulness forcing itself on her in her shock. This was the closest she had been to him since that night on the Astronomy Tower, and she didn't exactly feel comfortable near him.

"Hi…Heather." He said, turning slightly pink and looking past her towards Ron. Ron in turn began to whistle loudly and make as much noise as he could so as to not overhear their conversation.

"What are you doing here?" Heather asked, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

"I- I came because I haven't been able to sleep since yesterday." He said, stumbling over his words.

"Ok…" Heather replied, not quite understanding.

"It's like this. When I saw you fall off your broom yesterday, my heart plummeted. I know I said some terrible things to you the last time we spoke, but what I felt when I watched you fall made me realize that I was wrong. I like you, a lot, and I miss being with you. I've been a real mess since December."

"You mean since you dumped me and never spoke to me again?" Heather asked, a slight chill creeping into her voice.

"Yeah."

"So, what do you want then?"

"I want you to be my…girlfriend. I want us to go out again." His voice trembled as he spoke but his gaze never left hers.

Heather considered him. His eyes were shining with emotion as he looked at her, which gave some truth to what he was saying. It was certainly evident by his tousled hair and the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't slept last night. For a moment the wall around her heart dropped and she remembered how wonderful it had felt dating him. He had been kind and caring, until he wasn't. The memory of that last date swam back to the surface, dumping cold water on her.

"No." She answered after the silence had stretched several moments.

His shoulders sagged and his gaze dropped to the floor. "I figured you'd say that."

"Well what do you expect? Me to fall into your arms just because you've finally pulled your head out of your arse?" Heather said, the pain in her head making her voice rise. For weeks after their break up she had ranted at him internally, wishing she could say how she felt. Now she had the chance and didn't feel charitable enough to hold back.

"I was hoping you'd give me a second chance, yes." Justin replied, pulling his head up and looking slightly defiant.

"Well, unfortunately that ship sailed months ago."

"Is that your final answer?"

"Yes."

"But-" Justin began, his expression changing to one of pleading.

Before he could start though Ron cut him off. "Mate, she said what she said. It's time for you to leave."

Justin closed his mouth and looked at Heather before standing. He reached into his pocket and left a small package on her night stand before walking out of the ward. Heather picked up the small bundle, then dropped it into the bin next to her bed. Whatever he had given her, she didn't want.

"So," she said turning to Ron as though nothing had happened even as her heart pounded in her chest, "Think we still have a chance at the cup?" The talked for the rest of the afternoon about quidditch, making sure to lambast McLaggen thoroughly. To Heather's relief Lavender did not show up all day, but Hermione did after dinner. Heather told her about her new deal with Madam Pomfrey.

"Well, that's something of a relief. What with all our homework I was having some trouble finding the time to brew them. I'd better go talk to her." Hermione said before walking down to the Matron's office.

When she returned, Heather tried once more to engage them in a discussion of what Malfoy was up to, suddenly remembering that he hadn't been down at the pitch for the match. Rolling her eyes at Heather's obsession, Hermione decided to leave shortly afterwards, and once she was gone Ron went to sleep. Fuming at her friend's ignoring the evidence that was so clear to her, Heather rolled over in her bed wishing she had a way to follow Draco Malfoy and find out what he was up to. With a surge of inspiration, she sat up and realized that she did.

"Kreacher" she said into the darkness, and with a loud Crack Kreacher appeared, locked in a furious embrace with Dobby.

"Kreacher will not talk about Harry Potter like that!" squeaked the elf, driving his knobby hand into Kreacher's stomach.

Heather sprung from her bed, ignoring Ron's shout of surprise at the sudden noise, and pulled the two house elves apart. Once she got them separated, she set to work explaining what she wanted from Kreacher. Dobby enthusiastically volunteered to help as well, giving Kreacher a look of extreme dislike. With another loud crack, they vanished.