I have not updated this story in forever... (Still true.)

I reread it and I think it's alright, so I hope you peeps think it is too...

Disclaimer: I don't own HP!

Eleven years later an ugly girl who everyone thought was a boy woke up sweating in her bed...

She had just had that sweaty dream where you're in a summer camp in the desert and all the counselors leave and you have sex with everyone... ugh...

"Sexy..." she muttered.

"CHILD!" screamed Petunia. "Get THE FUCK OUTTA BED AND CLEAN THIS FUCKING HOUSE!"

"YOU CAD!" screamed Hermi...er, Harry.

"I thought I wanted a little...girl." muttered Petunia downstairs to her obese husband. "But I was bloody wrong."

"I always thought you were dear." agreed Vernon, not paying attention to what his wife was saying. He was eating lard. Well that explains it.

"Um, I am a girl." said 'Harry' quietly.

"What was that?" screamed Dudley somewhat involuntarily.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Oh, you mean the sound that we just heard?" asked Vernon somewhat blankly.

"No." chirped Dudley happily. "That."

He was pointing at the little pink stool in the corner.

"Good bananas in hell, what IS THAT?" Petunia yelled. "Oh, that's my stool." she shrugged.

'Harry' was confused. Why hadn't she known what it was if it was hers in the first place? It was a mystery...

For example, if you had a kid, you would know about it and wouldn't get scared if you saw it in the corner.

Unless it was an illegitimate love child and you hadn't known about it in the first place!

'Harry' gasped in delight.

"In conclusion," he said smartly. "YOU WOULDN'T HAVE KNOWN!"

And with that he ate a piece of the table out of sheer excitement and trudged back to his cupboard.

You may wonder why I'm saying 'his' instead of 'hers.' The answer is this: Sometimes I will refer to 'Harry' as 'him' and sometimes as 'her' mostly because it's too boring to use just one pronoun. Or is it noun? It's ANOTHER MYSTERY.

Back to the story.

Petunia sat down in the corner on her stool

"Ah." she said happily. "Some good memories here. Like that time Dudley accidentally tried to eat his own hand because it looked like pork. Good times, good times."

"When did that happen?" asked Vernon in a vaguely interested voice as he read his newspaper. Aww, how cute, he's acting like he can actually READ.

"Oh, I dreamt it once."

"Well that explains it."

Dudley's eyes welled up with tears.

"You dreamt I ate my hand?"

Meanwhile, 'Harry' was sitting in his room playing with his rubber ducky.

"Lardy lard lard." he grinned happily.

A/N: I see that the story has, erm... calmed down a little. Hope you like it, because I was hyper when I wrote this chapter, draining my hyper ness in the process. So basically you just stripped me of my natural high. But if you liked it, it was worth it.