Disclaimer:
I do not own the amusement park that is Hogwarts, or the colorful characters J.K. Rowling has created. After careful consideration, I have decided to rework this story using Reptilia28's Don't Fear the Reaper challenge as a basis. This story will still feature a trans-feminine Harry and as such, should be quite different from the other DFtR stories out there. I hope you enjoy it.
#foreign language#, *parseltongue*, "spoken", 'thoughts', [telepathic messages]
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The Marauders' Daughter
Prologue
Harry Potter is a Girl?
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Author's Note:
This is a draft of the first chapter of a new version of The Marauders' Daughter. I'm posting this ahead of the January 1st, 2023, launch date because I want to see if this is a format my loyal readers and new people alike would be interested in. There are more than a handful of things in the current version I am not happy with and was planning on reworking. The thing is, even with the rework the first few chapters would be largely unchanged. It was mostly the Hogwarts stuff I wasn't happy with. Not wanting everyone to be stuck with essentially the same thing for the first several weeks (One chapter a week till I'm caught up, hopefully still once a week by then), I thought what if I reworked it using Don't Fear the Reaper as a basis? There should be enough differences to make it fresh while enough similarities to be the same story you all love. Many of the events that happened before I intend to have happen again, they will just be through a lens of someone who has gone through the series before.
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If this is well received, I will continue modifying the rest of the story written to date (up to when 'Lily' walks into Snape's classroom) so they're ready by January 1st. Regardless of how much is ready, I'll only be posting once a week. This will give me more time to get chapters 18,19,20 etc. by the time 17 weeks have elapsed. It won't be a complete rehash, as some scenes will be deleted, others altered, some added, others tweaked to account for future knowledge etc.
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Please tell me what you think. Your thoughts and criticism are important.
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When the 1st of January hits, I'll be deleting this file and remaking it with the new edits.
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(Saturday, May 2nd, 1998, Early Morning)
Harry Potter, a seventeen-year-old bespectacled young man with untamable, short black hair, emerald-green eyes, was slowly walking through the Forbidden Forest on his way to meet with Voldemort. If he were truly feeling melodramatic, he could say he was walking towards his rendezvous with destiny. In reality, it was more likely his doom. After briefly conversing with his parents, Sirius and Remus via the Resurrection Stone, Harry felt he was finally ready to join them in the afterlife.
"I'm so sorry Ginny. I never had a chance to say goodbye," he whispered as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
After watching Snape's memories within the headmaster's office, the only people he had encountered while walking through the castle were Ron and Hermione. At least he'd been able to say goodbye to his best friends. The three of them had been through so much together and he hoped with all his heart the two of them would be happy with one another once Voldemort was defeated. If only there was a way for him to make it easier for them.
As he approached the clearing where he knew Voldemort was waiting, he slowed to a stop and surveyed the area. Squinting in the gloom of the early morning dawn, he noticed the elder Malfoys, Bellatrix, Nagini and Voldemort were simply standing around. None of them seemed to be on their guard. Could he take some of them out? He certainly had sufficient reason for wanting them dead for their past actions. Since he apparently needed to die in order to destroy the last horcrux, at least according to Dumbledore, why not make the half-blood bastard suffer for it?
Harry stared at the Death Eaters in loathing. So much pain and suffering, not just his own, but countless innocents across the magical and non-magical worlds for so many years. So many lives that could have been spared had the previous generation done their job properly and finished Voldemort and his clowns. Instead, the great Albus Dumbledore, along with many others within the Ministry had sat around doing nothing for years while he and his friends did all the work.
Allowing the hatred he felt for the monsters standing in the clearing fill him, he wondered if he would be able to pull off an Avada Kedavra. He knew once he started flinging spells all bets were off, so he would need to ensure his opening salvo caused as much damage as possible.
Sighting along his wand like a rifle scope, Harry locked onto Nagini's slithering form and whispered, "Avada Kedavra."
In the clearing, Voldemort was standing apart from his Death Eaters with his eyes closed as he slowly and lovingly caressed the Elder Wand. He really had believed the boy would come. Perhaps he had been wrong and Potter didn't care about his friends as much as he'd thought. He knew there was no way he would be able to spare the rest of the Hogwarts' defenders and retain his credibility, not after threatening to kill everyone if Harry Potter failed to show. What a waste. So much magical blood spilt. He sighed softly before finally opening his eyes only to see a familiar green beam of energy lance out from the gloom and strike Nagini.
Pandemonium ensued.
As Nagini screamed in pain, Voldemort fell to his knees and clutched his chest in anguish as he felt another of his horcruxes being destroyed. Having experienced a similar sensation twice within the last hour, he couldn't help but wonder if he had any anchors left or whether he was truly mortal again. Fear began to overwhelm his senses but he knew he needed to press onward. He could not afford to show weakness in front of his followers.
None of the Death Eaters had been prepared for an ambush. Since no one had seen exactly where the killing curse had originated from, they were caught flatfooted when a second green beam of energy lanced out from beyond the tree line and struck Bellatrix in the chest. The insane Death Eater looked shocked for a split-second before collapsing to the ground as though her strings had been cut.
Screams of terror filled the air as the remaining Death Eaters fled for their lives. Some of them would later claim they were searching for their unseen assassin but in reality, they were simply trying to avoid being picked off and their master's wraith for failing to ensure no one could sneak up on him. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were among those who fled though at a more sedate pace. It would be unseemly for them as Malfoys to panic as the 'lesser' Death Eaters were doing despite being terrified of the situation.
His vengeance temporarily sated, Harry casually stepped into the clearing and shouted, "Hey Tom! Did you miss me?"
Voldemort slowly climbed to his feet and glared at the cheeky teenager. Speaking softly he said in a contemplative tone, "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Now, I wonder what Dumbledore would think if he knew his Golden Boy had finally embraced the darkness and murdered someone in cold blood with the killing curse."
"I really don't care what that senile, old fool would think," the last Potter spat venomously. "He's done nothing but lie and manipulate me from the very beginning."
"Indeed," Tom said pleasantly. "Still, there is the fact that you've murdered my familiar and poor Bellatrix whom I was rather fond of. I'm afraid that I cannot allow that to go unpunished."
"I know," Harry conceded softly.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
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(Somewhere Unknown, Somewhen Unknown)
An indeterminable amount of time later, Harry slowly opened his eyes and noticed he was lying on the floor of what appeared to be a comfortable waiting room. Blinking in confusion, he slowly pulled himself to his feet long enough to collapse in a nearby chair. Looking around, he noted several other people sitting throughout the room, though no one seemed to be paying attention to or conversing with their neighbors.
One boy in particular seemed really anxious and kept twisting his hands as though he didn't know what to do with them. Looking closer, the last Potter recognized the teen and gasped in shock. The boy seemed to have heard him and looked up, recognition instantly flooding his dark brown eyes. Harry couldn't believe he was looking at the pre-Voldemort form of Tom Riddle. He couldn't see anything of the insane megalomaniac he had known in the boy's eyes, only innocence and a yearning for friends and home.
"Potter, Harry J.?" a soft feminine voice called from the front of the room.
Harry turned towards the voice and gaped. Standing near an open doorway leading from the room was a gorgeous woman of average height with long red hair, green eyes and curves that would make a supermodel jealous. She was sheathed in a beautiful, deep-emerald green evening gown, expensive looking black flats and holding a clipboard in her arms.
The woman giggled as he composed himself and nodded, too speechless to verbally affirm his name.
"If you would please follow me," the redhead said gently.
Once they were outside the waiting room, Harry finally found his voice and asked, "Where am I? The last thing I remember is facing Riddle in the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts."
The woman nodded thoughtfully and replied, "You're in what we call The Waystation. It's a subsidiary of Death Inc. where we process the souls of the recently deceased and judge what sort of afterlife a person has earned during the course of their life. Your 'friend' Tom Riddle, for instance, has earned himself quite a nasty afterlife due to his actions, but that is neither here nor there as far as you're concerned."
"We killed one another…" Harry whispered as he recalled the last several minutes of his life.
"That you did, but that is a matter for your Reaper to discuss with you. Here we are," the redhead said as she pointed towards a door with the name 'Morgana le Fey' emblazoned in gold lettering.
"Morgana le Fey? The infamous Black Witch of the British Isles is my Reaper?" the last Potter exclaimed in disbelief.
"She is indeed, Child of Black," the woman replied softly.
"Child of Black? Sirius…" he trailed off as tears shimmered within his dull green eyes. It hadn't taken him long to realize he was dead even before the redhead had informed him of where he was and what was going on. He vaguely remembered his godfather once telling him he had declared him his heir and that the man had blood-adopted him as a child before that fateful Halloween night.
"Morgana is not a full time Reaper," she explained quietly as she checked off Harry's name on her clipboard. "She only deals with Children of Black and should be just about finished with another Child of Black, Bellatrix Lestrange née Black."
"I hope that bitch burns for eternity," Harry snarled as he clenched his fists in anger.
"Harry James Potter! How could you say such a thing about a member of your own family?" the redhead demanded harshly.
"She murdered my godfather!"
"Accidentally," the woman countered sternly before softening her tone. "Though, I can see how you wouldn't know that." Seeing the confusion on her charge's face, she continued, "Bellatrix hadn't meant to kill Sirius during your fight in the Department of Mysteries. In fact, for a moment there, she had nearly broken free of Riddle's control. It was why she cast a stunner at him and not something worse. Unfortunately, Sirius had been standing too close to the Veil of Death at the time."
Harry lowered his eyes in shame as tears rolled down his face. It was his fault. If he hadn't been so stupid and rash, if he had only checked the package Sirius had sent him… His best friend wouldn't have taken a curse that had nearly killed her. Thankfully she survived, only to fall in love with Ron rather than him, the same boy that argued and fought with her on a regular basis and called her names…
"Harry, it'll be alright," the redhead said softly as she laid a gentle hand on her charge's shoulder.
"How?" the last Potter asked.
"I'll let Morgana talk to you about that," she said as the door leading to the office they'd been waiting beside opened. "By the way, my name is Heather and you'll see me again, I promise. All you'll need to do is look at yourself in the mirror when you're older."
"W-What?"
"Harry James Potter!" a stern, feminine voice reminding him of McGonagall called from within the office. "Times wasting, so hurry up and get in here so we can get to work."
"You'd better go," Heather said quietly before flashing him a beautiful and heartwarming smile. "Morgana can be pretty cranky early in the morning. Kind of like your friend Hermione, come to think of it."
Harry couldn't help himself and laughed as some of the tension he'd been feeling lifted from his shoulders. After thanking his guide, the last Potter turned towards the door and stepped through.
"Finally," Morgana seethed irritably as she glared at the young man walking into her office. Despite the fact she would be centuries old were she still alive, she looked more like a woman who was in her early thirties. Her luscious, raven-black hair spilled down her back and front, easily draping over her well defined breasts while her ruby red lips, pale skin, and aristocratic features easily made for a beautiful woman. She was wearing an elegant, black evening gown that only accentuated her feminine form.
Once Harry had sat down, the multi-century old witch continued in a clipped tone, "Now that you're here, again, perhaps you'd care to explain why you are dead, again, before completing your destiny and having lived a nice, long life like you were supposed to."
"What do you mean? Riddle is dead. I saw him in the waiting room," the last Potter protested wearily. He knew the woman in front of him was not to be trifled with, but he was at the point where he just wanted to move on and be with his family again. While parts of his life had been enjoyable, mostly it had been little more than an exercise in frustration, pain and suffering. If it wasn't the Dursleys making his life miserable, it was Voldemort, Snape, the Slytherins and the insanity that seemed to follow him every year while he had been at Hogwarts.
"Killing Riddle was only part of your destiny young man," Morgana countered as she narrowed her eyes at the boy in front of her. "It was only sheer dumb luck his killing curse hit you, thus making him mortal, a split-second before yours hit him. Otherwise he would've survived and been free to continue terrorizing Britain while you would still be sitting here in front of me."
Pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation, the raven haired woman continued, "Fine, since you seem to have a few neurons short of an actual human brain, I'll spill it out for you." At the last Potter's indignant protest, she glowered at the boy and growled, "You will sit there, shut up, and listen to what I have to say, got it?"
"Um, yes ma'am," Harry replied nervously.
"Good," Morgana said. "Now then, as I was saying, killing Riddle was only part of your destiny and you barely even managed to do that. The rest, you failed completely and this will be the last time I send you back to try again."
"Wait, what?"
"I thought I told you to be quiet," the raven haired woman said angrily.
"Sorry, but what do you mean by sending me back?"
"I was getting to that, now shut it and let me talk," Morgana demanded. At her charge's meek nod, she smirked inwardly and continued, "Including this latest debacle, you have died a total of six times due to a myriad of stupid things. I suppose the time Vernon killed you when you were eight by throwing you into your 'bedroom' after you'd apparated onto the roof of your primary school can't really be counted against you."
Seeing the shocked look on her client's face, she nodded and continued, "Following Hagrid's advice second year and purposefully walking into an acromantula nest without so much as a plan has to be one of the dumbest things you've ever done, though letting Riddle AK you without resistance takes the cake. At least this last time, you were smart enough to take out Nagini before once again, stepping in front of Riddle and letting him kill you."
"But Dumbledore said I had to in order to get rid of the horcrux in my scar," Harry protested.
"Ah yes, Dumbledore… Don't worry, we'll get back to that senile, old fool soon enough," the raven haired woman sneered with distain. "So that's four. As you might imagine, your other two deaths were equally stupid. I mean really, who takes on a basilisk by themselves, let alone as a twelve-year-old child?"
"What choice did I have? Ginny would have died and Riddle would've returned sooner if I hadn't," the last Potter argued. "I mean Ron would have been no help with a broken wand and Lockhart was already useless before his Obliviate backfired on him. Besides, the cavern had collapsed afterward and it would've taken too long to clear the debris or get help."
Morgana smiled at the fire her client was showing and said, "Fair enough, though it was still stupid." Receiving a sheepish shrug in response, she scowled and continued, "You're supposed to be realizing what you've been doing wrong so you can correct it when I send you back for your seventh and final go around, Child of Black."
"What happens if I fail again?" Harry asked softly.
"Your soul will be annihilated and you will never see your loved ones again," the witch growled. "It'll also leave a black mark on my record, despite only being a part time Reaper. It's not something I want to have happen and I will be most displeased with you if it should come to pass."
"Annihilated?"
"Yes, annihilated, as in you cease to exist in every capacity," Morgana replied sternly.
"I see," the teenager whispered as his face lost all of its color. If his soul was annihilated, he would never see his family and friends again. He would simply cease to exist and that seemed unfathomable. Little wonder Tom had been so terrified of death, that he had made multiple horcruxes.
"Yes well, you're not going to fail this next go around and force me into that position, are you?" the Black witch demanded in a dangerous tone as she raised an eyebrow in challenge.
"No ma'am," Harry replied earnestly.
"Here's what's going to happen," Morgana explained firmly, "I'm going to send you backwards through time to a point we'll discuss in a bit, you're going to get with your soul mate, some Granger girl with an unusual first name, and you're going to not only defeat Riddle, but also live to centennial age. Do you have any intelligent questions?"
"Several," the last Potter said. "First of all, am I going to be able to retain any memory of what I've been through? If not, then I'll likely make the same or similar mistakes again, causing you grief and having my soul annihilated. Not something I'm particularly keen on happening, mind you."
"Not only likely, but pretty much guaranteed," the raven haired women replied as she opened a drawer and removed a stack of papers centimeters thick. Placing the stack of documents on her desk, she continued in a gentler tone, "You see Harry, Dumbledore wanted you weak, pliable and solely reliant upon him and his chosen sycophants. He left you with the Dursleys, knowing full well you would be mistreated in order to keep you malleable. Now, that could've easily backfired and you could have become another Tom Riddle. If he had been smarter, he probably should've left you with the Weasleys who were very much in his pocket."
"Yeah… I might need to avoid them next time around."
"Not all Weasleys look to Dumbledore as though he was The Almighty," Morgana growled in annoyance. Softening her tone, she continued, "You'll want to be careful around Arthur, Molly, Percy and Ron, but you'll find the Twins and Ginny are good people to have on your side. The older siblings, Bill and Charlie, are what I would consider neutral with regards to Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix."
Harry nodded as he briefly recalled his previous life. While he hadn't liked how Ginny had fawned over him in her early years, he'd loved how she'd become a firecracker in her later years. It was that kind of spunk and energy he would need by his side for his final chance.
"To answer your first question, yes, you will be allowed to keep your memories for your final attempt," the Black witch said as she indicated the stack of forms on her desk. "You know where all the horcruxes are as well as the major events you will either need to avoid or do something about in a different manner. Depending on when I send you back, some of these may have already been resolved in a satisfactory manner. Do you have any other questions?"
"Yes," the last Potter replied as he replayed Morgana's earlier speech about his destiny. "You mentioned that I would need to get with my soul mate, some Granger girl. The only Granger I can think of is Hermione, but she never really showed much interest in me…"
"That would be due to Dumbledore's interference and manipulations," Morgana replied irritably as she scowled. "Like I said before, Dumbledore needed you pliable and reliant on him. What do you suppose would've happened if you'd been involved with Hermione in more than a platonic sense? You would have looked to her for guidance and you can bet that girl would've insured you made smarter choices and been less of a doormat. Dumbledore wasn't alone. He had enlisted Molly's help to keep you under control while you stayed at The Burrow and during the summers when you were away from Hogwarts."
"Was my relationship with Ginny a lie?" Harry asked softly as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. It hurt realizing how much Dumbledore and Molly had betrayed him, all so he would walk to his death and sacrifice himself like a good little minion.
"While it wasn't a lie, it was helped along by Dumbledore, Molly and Ron," the multi-century old woman replied. "Between the Indifference Potions keyed to Hermione you were given and the Lust potion keyed to Ginny, you were pretty well set on the youngest Weasley, much to Molly and Ron's delight. Since Dumbledore was setting you up to die, he didn't really care one way or another but thought it would help the Weasleys. Molly wanted both Hermione and you to be part of the Weasley family and figured if you were hooked on Ginny, then Hermione could be 'encouraged' to be with Ron. As I'm sure you've realized by now, Ron has never really loved Hermione. It was more about having the witch you wanted than any real affection for her so Hermione was fed potions as well. Indifference keyed to you and Lust keyed to Ron."
"What about Ginny?" the raven haired boy asked timidly. Part of him wanted to believe his ex-girlfriend was innocent and that she hadn't known about the manipulations of her family and the headmaster.
"Ginny was innocent and had nothing to do with you being dosed," Morgana explained patiently. "That's why I said your relationship with her wasn't a lie. You genuinely fell in love with her and she you, despite the nudge you received from Molly."
"If I hadn't been dosed though, would I have actually fallen for Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Yes," the Black witch replied. "In fact, I think you two started feeling something for one another besides friendship at the end of third year while you were riding Buckbeak together. During the summer before your fourth year, Molly started dosing you both with Indifference Potions and that kept the two of you from getting together then. I would like to say True Love can overcome all obstacles, but that really isn't true."
"I remember thinking how beautiful she was the night of the Yule Ball," the last Potter said and shook his head at his own naivety. "I kicked myself for weeks afterward for not asking her to the dance, even if we only went as friends. She seemed happy with Krum though…"
"She wasn't, but she also didn't want to go with Ron and thought going with Krum would make him jealous," Morgana said. "Anyways, as delightful as our conversation has been, we do have work to do. There is one last thing you need to know before we talk about when to send you back as I feel it is pertinent to the discussion."
"Oh?"
Sighing heavily, the multi-century old woman continued tiredly, "I know you don't remember Harry, but during your second year you discovered something very important about yourself that interfered with Dumbledore's plans. When he found out, he obliviated you of the knowledge and placed several compulsions so that you would never discover the truth about yourself."
"What truth?" Harry wondered. What could he have possibly discovered about himself that would've frightened Dumbledore enough to mess with his mind and sense of self? It certainly wasn't Parseltongue, though he understood the man likely used the animosity it had garnered against him since it served to isolate him from potential friends and allies. The same reason the headmaster had never defended him against the accusations the students made against him during his second and fourth years.
Uncertain how her client would handle her latest bombshell, Morgana continued softly, "The truth is, Harry, you are a girl. You realized it during second year when you polyjuiced yourself to look like Hermione over the winter hols. Afterward, the two of you went to McGonagall and Dumbledore about using human transfiguration to alter your body…"
"And then the old meddler obliviated me," Harry whispered in realization. "Likely McGonagall and Hermione as well which was why neither of them ever mentioned it."
"Precisely," the raven haired woman said. "When you go back, I'll restore those memories for you. Speaking of memories, you are not allowed to tell anyone the future nor anything regarding this realm. The only exception to that rule is your soul mate and even she may not know that you've died and been sent back until Riddle and Dumbledore have been dealt with."
"Alright," the last Potter said as he considered everything he had been told. Wondering why he wasn't thinking of himself as a girl, he asked, "Am I still under Dumbledore's compulsions and obliviations regarding my gender? I don't feel like a girl, but both you and that Heather woman from earlier seem to be convinced I am one."
Morgana nodded and said, "You're going to need time to think about everything that's happened, including your new sense of self once you go back, so I've kept them locked up for now. I think you're ready. You know what you need to do, at least overall. The specifics are up to as it is your destiny, but the crux of the matter is this: get together with your soul mate, defeat Riddle and live to centennial age. The only thing we need to do is figure out when to send you."
"What are my options?" Harry asked, thankful he didn't have to think about the fact that he was actually a girl while he was sitting with Morgana le Fey, Reaper of the Children of Black.
"Anytime really, though there are obviously better times than others," the Black witch replied. "Something you need to keep in mind though. Your mind is going back in time, not your body or magical levels. Think carefully when you might want to return and your limitations at that time."
"So I shouldn't return before Riddle kills my parents since I wouldn't be able to do anything to stop it," the last Potter said remorsefully.
"I'm sorry Harry, I truly am," the raven haired woman said softly.
"In that case, I would like to return to the morning I'm leaving Hogwarts at the end of my second year," Harry said after thinking about it for a couple minutes. He had no desire to live through the Dursleys' abuse again so anytime before receiving his Hogwarts letter was out. He also didn't want to deal with Quirrellmort again. There was no way he was going to subject himself to the Heir of Slytherin rubbish a second time. He and Ginny had survived the basilisk, why tempt fate redoing that?
"I think that's a brilliant choice," Morgana said with a smile. "Good luck, Daughter of Black."
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Author's Notes:
I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter. I want to thank everyone who has read this story so far and I hope I can retain your interest. Please read and review. Comments and criticism are welcome, I just ask you to be nice about it.
Publish Date: January 1st, 2023