I don't own Harry Potter.
Please let me know what you think.
X
The Patil Triplets.
Was it usual or unusual for someone to suffer from an identity crisis when they had an identity?
That they knew it was wrong?
The question had been haunting Harry Potter for as long as he could remember. By the age of eleven, he had already decided life was truly unfair.
He had hated the life of living hell he had endured while he had lived with the Dursleys and suffered from those weird dreams with the green flash of light and the flying motorbike for as long as he could remember. He had hated the way the Dursleys had lied about him, saying that his parents were criminals, and he had hated how at school none f the kids wanted anything to do with them, either because their idiot parents believed the rumours told by Aunt Petunia, or Dudley would beat them up.
It wasn't until he was seven that things changed for the better.
But even when he had escaped from the Dursleys, he still hadn't been able to answer the questions which had been haunting him over and over again.
Sometimes Harry wondered if he truly was a freak like the Dursleys told him that he was, but all his life he had felt some kind of weird connection between two Indian girls his age. Twins. Both are incredibly pretty, and both with their own interests and ideas.
Harry had never seen either of the girls before in his life, and boy he had tried when he had found himself in London, and he had looked for every single Indian his age to see if the girls were there, and yet he had known who both of the girls were, and he was sure it was mutual. They were both sad, knowing he was there, and yet he wasn't like he was there in the corner of their eyes just out of the edge of their vision. That was strange enough, but more than once, Harry had got visions of the two girls standing over him…. Only he was dressed in Indian girl clothes, a Sari and he resembled them, that he was a girl, an Indian girl, making them identical triplets. On top of that, Harry was able to interact with them as if he had grown up with them.
But that wasn't all. Harry had vaguely clear memories of a man with his black messy hair, and a woman with emerald green eyes. His parents? It fit, they did resemble him; the woman had his eyes, and he resembled the man. And yet he felt nothing for them. He had feelings for a beautiful Indian woman who bore a striking resemblance to the two Indian girls, making Harry guess she was their mother, and he felt more warmth towards the woman who was a virtual stranger and yet he knew her and the handsome Indian man whom he guessed was her husband.
And it felt right. Harry had always known whenever he looked in the mirror, seeing his pale skin and his emerald green eyes, his weird lightning bolt scar, and the mop of messy black hair…. He was aware that it was wrong! He was not supposed to look like this, and whenever he found himself with the girls, in those weird little visions where he was part of their lives for real, he knew he wasn't a homeless British boy, but a girl, an Indian girl.
He knew the names of the girls. Padma and Parvati, both identical, both had different habits and quirks; whereas Parvati was outgoing, Padma was quiet. And he remembered the name they used whenever they sensed his presence. Pavini.
But that wasn't all.
On days whenever the weird connection he had between himself and the girls was quiet or dormant, something he didn't understand, Harry would sometimes find himself looking curiously at women's clothes. He wasn't a weird pervert or anything, he just had a strange liking for the designs and the colours. He also found himself liking books and listening to gossip.
Like a girl.
Like he was a blend of Parvati and Padma.
Harry had never told anyone about this - he wasn't that stupid, and since the Dursleys had shown him just how intolerant some people could be, he wasn't even remotely stupid enough to talk.
Panting as he struggled to keep up with Hagrid, cursing his taller height, Harry stood next to him when he cleared his throat to grab the teller's attention. One look at the goblin made it clear to him that the goblin was far from impressed. "Yes?" The goblin demanded, his tone making it clear to Hagrid that he appreciated his time away from his books or his work.
"Mr Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal," Hagrid said.
Harry flinched when he noticed how loudly Hagrid just spoke, but being someone so large it wasn't unexpected. But what made him flinch even more was the way everyone in the bank turned and began speaking excitedly. After the way he had been pawed at in the Leaky Cauldron pub, the last thing Harry wanted was more attention. Sometimes Harry had the feeling this was what Hagrid was doing, what he wanted. That, or he had no idea what discretion meant.
If that was what everyone expected for him to endure, they could forget it. He would rather live in a cardboard box, thank you very much. But this was a great opportunity for him.
Harry stared at Hagrid in feigned confusion, but inwardly he was dancing a jig. This was the moment he had been waiting for, ever since Hagrid had found him near Tower Hill, and had been forced to endure the enormous man's Dumbledore propaganda. The giant guy was surprisingly unaware that he already knew about Dumbledore.
And hated him immensely.
It had begun when he had run away from the Dursleys a few years ago, and he had escaped into London. Strapped for cash, Harry had stolen money in Mrs Figg's place and found a number of letters from Dumbledore, which explained a great deal and yet dumped a number of other questions and worries back on his shoulders as a result.
For a long time, Harry had been trying to answer those questions, but he had known better than to ask Hagrid. Not only would he set him (Harry) up to have his memories erased, which was what had happened sometimes in his childhood whenever he'd tried to get help to stop the Dursley abuse from getting out of hand, but Hagrid wouldn't know anyway, but Harry had wanted to get away from the giant anyway.
Now he had his chance.
"Hagrid, why is this the first time I've heard of this key?" He asked, knowing the goblins and some of the other people in the bank would overhear him, and if he played his cards right he could get the giant away from him for good, to say nothing of Dumbledore.
Hagrid stared down at his young charge in surprise. "What d'you mean, Harry? Dumbledore has been keeping it safe for ye for the last ten years. Great man, Dumbledore."
"So Dumbledore has had access to my family's money ever since?" Harry made sure to keep his voice steady, but loud enough to be heard. "How do I know he hasn't touched anything?"
Hagrid was beginning to get angry. "Harry! How can you say that about Professor Dumbledore? He's a great man! He would never steal from a child-!"
"Yeah, and you and he put me on a doorstep in the middle of a cold night!" Harry snapped before he turned to the goblin, who was listening to this with surprise. "I'd like to know why a man whom I have never met would hold my key to my bank account here?" He added when he realised suddenly how demanding and rude he was being, "Please."
"Harry, Dumbledore would never take anything from your vault. He's a great man, he is," Hagrid said in a shocked tone. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry noticed everyone in the bank taking notes with interest. Hagrid continued with his rather feeble protests, but the goblin had decided to intervene. He waved his hand over the key and pressed it into the pile of parchment.
"There have been no transactions made against this vault since 1981, so Mr Hagrid is right there, but the news this boy hasn't had this key in his possession during this time is also worrying…as well as several other things that don't make sense, but somebody else will be taking on the case, but according to this, we have sent out dozens of statements but you don't seem to have replied to them or come into the bank to meet your family manager," the teller turned to Harry curiously.
"I've never received a bank statement," Harry said. Now he knew Gringotts sent them out, it made logical sense for them to do so. "This is the first time I've ever been to Gringotts."
The teller narrowed his eyes. "This is serious, Mr Potter. One moment, please." The goblin waved his hand over Harry, and his expression became even more displeased. "Mm, you have a number of spells placed on you, Mr Potter, powerful ones. One of them is a mail redirection ward. Have you ever received mail from the magical world?" Hagrid seemed to cower a bit when he heard the menacing challenge in the goblin's tone. For Harry, this was a pleasure.
"No, this is my first time here," Harry took some sadistic delight in seeing the reactions of everyone in the hall, to say nothing of Hagrid's own reaction. "In fact, I only found out about the magical world when I ran away from the muggles who raised me until I was seven years old. If I had known about the magical world, never mind the fact I had money, I could have found a better place to live than out on the streets of London, where I was forced to look for food and water, and whatever shelter I could find. Not that anybody cared, of course."
A child's voice caught Harry's attention. "Mummy, I sent Harry Potter a birthday card, but he never replied. He never got it, did he?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noted the adult witch standing with the child, narrowed her eyes. "It seems so, sweetheart."
"I didn't," Harry turned solemnly and smiled at the kid. "I never received anything, and I'm sorry. If I had received letters, I would have responded."
Privately Harry wasn't sure how he would have responded, he would have considered the kid's letters to be weird or bothersome, but if he had known the truth, then he would have replied.
The goblin teller had had more than enough. Summoning another goblin and several guards, the teller announced, "This requires an investigation that will be conducted by my superiors. Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this, Mr Potter."
Hearing the grim certainty in the goblin's voice, Harry believed him. The teller turned grimly towards Hagrid. "Leave Gringotts immediately," he ordered.
"Hey now, I'm not meant to let Harry out of my sight," Hagrid protested.
"I suppose Dumbledore told you this?" The second goblin snorted.
"Yes, he did."
"Well this is a Gringotts matter now," the goblin who was much more senior and more powerful than the teller informed Hagrid, "and we're ordering you to leave. Mr Potter, if you'd care to follow me please?"
Harry walked to the goblins, only for Hagrid to walk after the boy, but the goblins levelled their spears at the giant. "Do you really want to test us?" One of the goblin guards asked.
X
If there was one thing he had learnt during his time on the streets after learning how to pick pockets, it was to never show you were the one to do it. You had to become a chameleon and never feel guilty for a stolen purse or a wallet could mean the difference between life and death. But for the first time in a very long time, Harry was terrified. He had made up his mind to tell the goblins about Parvati and Padma in some way, but he wasn't entirely sure how to do it.
As the goblin from the hall escorted him deeper into the bank, Harry had admired the rich wood-metallic decoration with the numerous - and deadly - weapons like battle axes and swords and spears designed for goblin use, although Harry was smart and expert enough thanks to his own experience with street fighting to guess all of these weapons were used at some point and were clearly prepared for use. Their blades were razor sharp, and their lethality made it clear to any human who walked down these corridors that the goblins were not a race to be messed with.
But at the same time….
Harry was convinced the goblins would have the means of helping him. If they could identify if a vault key had been used at all in a decade, and how many spells were placed on his body, then surely they could help him discover this weird bond he had with those two girls. The only problem he had was how to tell them he had worries about his identity. He had little experience with goblins, but after seeing them threaten Hagrid, who had backed off, he doubted they would respond well.
Oh well, as Yoda said "Do, or do not. There is no try."
When Harry found himself in an office, he wasn't particularly surprised to find a rather spartan office filled with filing cabinets made from richly polished dark wood. There were no pictures, and no decorations aside from weapons, which made Harry ask himself if the goblins had something against plants. But he wasn't going to judge them for that.
"Mr Potter, please take a seat," the goblin who had escorted him said and sat down himself. With nothing better to do, Harry did as he was told.
"Before we start, I want you to hear me out. I know it will sound insane, but I don't really know who I am. I've been called so many derogatory names over the years, besides Harry Potter, but I've always had some strange visions of two Indian girls who are my age, and sometimes I see a vision of myself, only I'm not a boy, never mind myself. But a girl who looks like them. And I'm not sure why. I know their names, Padma and Parvati. And they keep calling me Pavini," Harry said, stumbling as he got the words out since he wasn't sure how the goblin would respond.
The goblin was looking at him with wide-eyed surprise. "Pavini Patil," he gasped.
"Patil? That's their name?" Harry said. "You know them?"
"Not personally, no, but the Patils are a very old pureblood family from India. They came to Britain a decade ago to discover and open new business outlets and to make a presence here. Unfortunately, when they arrived they found themselves curtailed. One of the problems with Magical Britain is the people here are rather insular. They believe themselves to be the pinnacle of magical development, in truth they are backwards and they have silly prejudices. The Patils are an extremely old pureblood family, which means they should be rising high on the social ladder, yet the first thing people see is their skin colour," the goblin explained with a grimace. "Did Mr Hagrid bother to tell you how you got your scar?"
While disgusted that anyone would be prejudiced towards someone for their skin colour since he had an admiration for dark skin himself, Harry flattened the hair automatically so it couldn't be seen. "Yes, he did," he replied grimly.
The goblin went on. "There was a full-scale magical war with the Dark Lord Voldemort. He blackmailed and bullied magical families who were pureblooded into joining his cause, but at the same time he wiped out many of those same families who refused to join. The Patils reached his notice and they were approached, but they refused to join. Sensible of them. The Dark Lord was nothing but a thug, a rabid animal; thanks to him, many magical families have died out. Besides, Rajal and Shehani Patil had three daughters, triplets. Padma, Parvati, and Pavini. One night the Patils were woken up when they heard the girls crying and they discovered Pavini was missing."
"Missing? Was Voldemort responsible?" Harry gasped, feeling more sympathy towards the Patils than he had for the Potters, especially since he knew something was just not right.
"No one knows. Rajal had spent a fortune getting the best wards - defences - imaginable, and they were tied to him. And yet somehow one of the girls was stolen without the other two being touched. It made no sense to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and it doesn't make sense now," the goblin replied before he narrowed his eyes at Harry, "And then there's your own knowledge of it."
"Could Dumbledore have done it?" Harry asked. After the way the old man had kept him at the Dursleys, anything was possible.
"After what I've discovered it's possible, although I can't see the motivation. Still, what you have told me is worrying. I have an idea for why that is, but I'll need to call a healer to take a look so I can be sure," the goblin said. With that, he summoned another goblin into the office. After a few minutes of conversation in their language, the healer turned to Harry.
"Stand up, please," the goblin instructed as their colleague prepared some kind of ornate box.
Harry did as he was told. For several minutes, the goblin healer slowly and thoroughly waved his hand down Harry's form. When the goblin was finished, he stepped back. "Your body is covered with a number of spells that are highly illegal," the healer reported at last. "Someone has tried to perform an illegal number of spells placed on you. Some of them have been cast to rewrite some of your personality, and there are a number of blocks on your magic there is also a soul leech of some kind in that scar which will need to be examined properly and then removed, but it has largely failed because of a sibling bond. We'll have to remove it."
"A what?"
"A sibling bond is what is shared between magical twins, or triplets," the original goblin manager explained. "It's a sacred bond which links the siblings together, on a magical level. When you told me about your case, I wondered if there was some connection between you and the Patil sisters. It's too coincidental. From what we've just learnt, you are Pavini Patil. What's the state of the bond?" He asked the healer.
The goblin healer was furious and it bled into his voice despite his professional attitude. "It's still there, Manager, but there are signs someone has tried to magically block the bond or outright destroy it. But they failed. There are no spells that can truly destroy it.'
Harry was chilled that someone would destroy something that seemed so good, but the goblins were clearly furious someone would try to break such a bond.
"What else has changed?"
"This boy is showing signs of a cloning potion in his system," the goblin healer put emphasis on the words 'boy' and 'his' "which means you were born a biological girl, but someone used the blood of a boy and given you a potion to make you outwardly into that boy."
"What?" Harry sat down heavily, shaken to the core. He, no, she, she was shaken. It wasn't every day you were told you were a girl underneath the appearance of a boy, but it made sense; those impressions she'd gotten from Padma and Parvati, that dislike she had for British religion, although that was understandable considering how the Dursleys had tried to have an exorcism performed on her two years before she'd run away, and customs and interest in Indian culture.
Harry lifted her gaze solemnly. "I'm Pavini Patil." It wasn't a question. The answer was obvious.
"Yes, I do. Pavini Patil disappeared a few months before the end of the war, and her disappearance remains a mystery, but we need to be sure," the goblin manager held up the box, pulling out an odd-looking roll of parchment and a small knife. "Give me your hand, please."
Harry did as she was told, and she momentarily flinched when the goblin sliced her finger and several drops of blood fell onto the parchment. A minute later the parchment glowed and seemed to burst into flames before writing appeared on it. The goblin examined it for a moment before nodding and passed it over for Harry and the goblin healer to ready.
Instead of Harry Potter's name, the name read Pavini Leena Patil. Then the names of her parents, her biological parents, Rajal and Shehani Patil. And then her sisters….
Harry pushed it aside. "Is there any way of regaining my true appearance and gender?"
"There is. I can start the procedure now, but it will take time for your masculine appearance to fade. At the same time, I can work on breaking down the magic which has rewritten some of your personality. But you will need to stay for the treatments."
"In the meantime, I will be contacting your biological parents," the old goblin manager said, standing up to leave. "They will need to come here and be informed. When you continue your examinations, healer, I want the magical signature of the fool who tried to destroy a magical sibling bond."
"I understand," the healer was already preparing for another round of scanning and to begin the procedures. Harry, or Pavini, stood up and kept still. She closed her eyes, biting her lip to stop the pain of the transformation from taking place. She felt her body beginning to change and a strange tingling in her skin, and indeed her skin tone began changing from caucasian to a beautiful caramel brown even as her messy black hair changed and began losing a lot of its weight and the shaggy nature disappeared, leaving the hair, while messy and unkempt, longer and sleeker, and proceeded to cascade down her back.
The face of Harry Potter shifted and transformed as the features of Pavini Patil became more prominent; her cheekbones moved upwards and her nose became smaller, daintier, and her chin became pointier as her face cracked and shifted to resemble Padma and Parvati Patil. Underneath the baggy clothes, the changes continued, starting with the shrinking of Harry's cloned penis. It gradually became smaller and smaller while the testicles retracted inside and the floppy skin transformed into a vagina. Her true genitalia. What was left of the testicles transformed into ovaries, and began producing female hormones. With the release of the hormones from their extremely long imprisonment, Pavini's body became even more feminine. Underneath her shirt, her nipples became puffier as two breasts appeared.
But while her body was changing, her real personably came out. It had been submerged under a number of commands that had been eroded slowly over the years thanks to the bond.
One way or another, mentally or biologically, Pavini Patil was becoming more dominant.
