Chapter Three: Haesel Jessamine Potter

Haesel was so pleased to be home, she could have done a cartwheel.

The stiff and formal Easter dress that Auntie had made her wear for church this morning was itchy and ridiculous. She didn't look nearly as bad as she thought she would, the pastel purple dress making her leaf-green eyes seem greener than usual and complimenting her very dark hair well – but still. Dresses were her least favorite type of clothing. She couldn't wait to change into more normal, comfortable clothes. Auntie might have been firm about wearing the dress for church, but she wouldn't mind Haesel wearing her usual trousers and comfortably big jumpers, now that they were back home.

"Last one to be changed out of church clothes has to set the table!" crowed Dudley as the car came to a stop in the drive. His big hands were pulling at the door handle and halfway out, before Haesel could get her seatbelt unbuckled. "You're already losing, git!"

"Stupid dress! You just wait! You've got a head start, but I'm faster, prat!"

"Children! Watch your language – and be careful in those clothes! If I see one rip or tear in anything because of this silly competition you two must make of everything –"

Haesel let out a noise of triumph as she finally was able to get her seatbelt loose. She stumbled from the car, in her haste to gain on Dudley, and when she stood upright –

Three people were staring at her from across the street. A man with a long beard, a man with very long dark hair, and a woman with glasses were staring at her with looks that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Haesel gasped and stumbled back, actually falling down this time and catching her pristine black stockings on the edge of the car door.

"Haesel?" Auntie came around the car, alarmed. "What's the matter?"

Haesel held onto to her aunt's hand with a tight grip as she got to her feet, looking again –

"Where did they go?"

"They?" Auntie was suddenly sharp, cold. "Did you see someone, Haesel? Who was it?"

"I – well, I –" Haesel closed her eyes and breathed deeply, then looked across the street at the lawn of Number Six. There was nobody there and maybe there never was. The Hollands were gone on holiday to Spain and the home was as still and shuddered as it had been, when they'd left for church a couple of hours ago. "No, it's nothing. I thought maybe I saw someone over at Connor and Cindy's house, but – of course I didn't. They're still in Barcelona."

Auntie looked at her very closely. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, ma'am." Haesel smiled, shaking off that feeling of being looked through by the people that had never been standing across the street. It mostly went away, especially when Dudley stuck his head out of his bedroom window and announced with wicked glee that she had lost. "Guess I have to set the table, then," she said, with a laugh that was nearly sincere. "I'm alright, Auntie, just clumsy, is all. I'm sorry for ripping my stocking when you'd just said to be careful."

For once, Auntie didn't seem inclined to lecture. Haesel wondered what the unreadable look on her aunt's face was but didn't get the chance to ask before she was ushered into the house with instructions to not start an argument with her cousin and be even more careful when she changed out of her dress.

Haesel didn't even get to the top of the staircase before the doorbell chimed.

The feeling of the hairs on standing upon the back of her neck returned.

"In the name of Circe, what has she done to that boy?"

Severus was too stunned to speak. He didn't even look over at Minerva and the near roar of righteous fury that erupted from her. He found he couldn't think of anything except the sight of Petunia getting out of a luxury car, with two children – a boy who was very brawny with pale blue eyes and a girl in a purple dress with the eyes of the late Lily Potter.

"Severus," said Albus in a faint, very strained voice. "Is there any Muggle custom or tradition that you know of, where it is normal and expected for a young boy to be wearing – a dress? Or, dressed as what we believe a Muggle girl would dress as?"

Severus let out a harsh exhale of breath. He didn't know what to think.

He hadn't been amid Muggles since his own childhood and that had been twenty years, previously. When he had been allowed to wander outside of the home in Spinner's End, his grandparents' home that had been modified to be a Wizarding home despite it being in a Muggle neighborhood, Severus had put on what he thought was acceptable Muggle clothing – and as an adult, now he could see the clothing he wore back then was most unusual.

He thought of the first time he'd met Lily. The smock he'd taken from his mother's closet at seven-years-old, only knowing it was Muggle clothing and not realizing it was a Muggle item for a Muggle woman. He remembered just as clearly how derisive Petunia had been about his clothing; it had been because he was a little boy wandering around in women's clothing, as if it were meant for him as a little boy.

Tentatively, he offered this to the Headmaster. Minerva shook her head, fiercely, her eyes ablaze.

"There is a difference in a Wizarding-raised child donning incorrect clothing and – and – this!" Minerva looked sharply at Albus, who was grave. "If this woman had done something to Harry that is against his will, something inappropriate that is being inflicted on him because she hates magic and her sister –"

Severus felt as if someone had poured cold acid down his spine; he stiffened at Minerva's words. He'd never considered that.

Petunia could be forcing Potter to wear girl's clothing or pretend as if he was a girl, against his will.

He would have never thought of a thing like that, but perhaps the animosity Petunia had for Lily had festered into something perverse and cruel beyond imagination. Severus shook his head. He had his doubts about the fitness of Petunia as the guardian of a magical child, let alone one as crucial to the Wizarding World as Harry Potter – but, he would have never thought of something like this happening to Britain's young hero and Lily's son.

"Headmaster, I know of nothing Muggle that calls for this." Severus said quietly. "There are Muggle concepts and ideologies about gender identity and expression, which are valid – but, I have no idea what is happening here. I don't know of anything where a boy like Potter would be in a girl's formal dress, complete with formal hairstyle and accessories. I have no idea why…Harry Potter appears to be a girl."

Something in Albus's face hardened.

"Very well. Mrs. Dursley has returned as expected and we must speak with her, at once. Come, Minerva, Severus."

The doorbell chimed two more times, before a strong and firm knock sounded upon the door.

"Mrs. Dursley. Please, answer the door. We know that you're home and we must speak with you, at once."

Haesel stood at the top of the stairs, silently, as Auntie stood at the door and refused to open it. Dudley came from his room to see who was at the door and Haesel held her finger to her lips, intently. Her cousin frowned but remained quiet, coming to stand beside her and look down the stairwell at the front door.

"Who are you? What do you want?" demanded Auntie. She didn't sound afraid, but instead – defiant?

"Mrs. Dursley. I am Albus Dumbledore. We've never met, but I'm sure you know who I am. Please, let us in. It is very important that we speak with you."

Auntie pressed a shaking hand over her mouth. Haesel knew Dudley was just as concerned, as Auntie squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She appeared to be ready to meet the hounds of hell when she opened the door, instead of the three adults that stood on the doorstep. Haesel swallowed back her gasp as she recognized each of the three people as the people that she'd thought she'd imagined standing across the street a few minutes ago.

Now that they were in her home, crowding into the foyer, Haesel had no doubt they were real.

The elder man among them had a beard that was long and white and matched his snow-white hair, but there was very little that was elderly or wizened about him. Haesel felt chills all over her body as something recognized that this man was powerful and important – and, there might be a good reason why Auntie was standing before him, pale but determined to meet his thunderous, too-blue gaze. The stern woman and expressionless man that stood beside and behind him weren't near as – imposing – as this white-bearded man.

"Mrs. Dursley, we have come from Hogwarts to determine why you've refused your nephew and your son a place at our school. Is there somewhere we can talk about this urgent matter?"

Auntie didn't move.

"My nephew?"

Haesel could not see her Auntie's face, but she knew well the narrow-eyed, eagle-sharp look that came along with that questioning tone of voice. Next to her, Dudley made a grunt-like noise that she knew to be his confusion at why this white beard man was looking for a nephew of Auntie. Was there a cousin that she and Dudley had that they didn't know about or hadn't met before?

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but we received a response to the letters intended for both Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley, declining their places at Hogwarts for the upcoming academic year. We'd like to discuss how we can get your approval for the boys to attend."

"No, you are not wrong," said Auntie, slowly and – unsure? "You're misinformed, however. I declined my niece and my son to attend Hogwarts. The letters for refusal should be for Haesel Potter and Dudley Dursley, not – Harry? Harry Potter?"

There was a long, tense moment.

"Haesel Potter?" asked the white-beard man in a strained voice. "May I ask, Mrs. Dursley, how it came about that you are calling your nephew Haesel? I don't understand but I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt, before assuming – "

Auntie interrupted the man, sharply. "I have no nephew, that's why I'm calling my niece by her name. What kind of school is this, that you don't even get the names of your pupils correct?" Haesel was surprised, when her Auntie added in a brittle tone that she'd never heard of before: "When you sent my sister her letter, you'd gotten her name perfectly correct. Has the quality of Hogwarts declined in the twenty years since Lily went? Perhaps that's an added support for my refusal."

An ugly and uncomfortable silence swelled between her Auntie and the three strange visitors, making Haesel feel uneasy. Dudley shifted beside her, as if he wanted to go down the stairs and put himself between his mother and these strangers – but, the white beard man began speaking, again, and Haesel stopped him. She had to hear what they were talking about.

They were talking about her and something very odd was going on.

"Mrs. Dursley, when I placed Harry Potter at your home on 3 November 1981 –"

"There is no such person named Harry Potter! I don't know what you're playing at with my niece, but it won't happen!" Auntie said loudly and from the perch of her hands on her hips, Haesel knew that these strangers were in for it. "Listen, I remember you and I remember you well, Mr. Dumbledore. You did not place my niece at my home on 3 November 1981. You left her on my doorstep with a letter, like she was to be picked up by the milkman! I found out from a letter that my sister had been murdered, her baby needed to be looked after, and that's it. I had to write back to you to tell you that I found her safe and that I didn't want you to talk to us again. Now, you show up on my doorstep again – but this time, trying to play with my mind or pull one of your magical tricks. I won't let you, Mr. Dumbledore, and that's all there is to it!"

Mr. Dumbledore, as it seemed he was, didn't speak for a moment.

Then, in a grave voice, he said: "Regardless of how he came to your home back then, it was made clear that there were special circumstances that made it unsafe for him to be raised in our world. In the return letter, you agreed that you understood and did indeed ask for privacy. But perhaps you misunderstood. Harry was only meant to be left in your care until he needed to be brought back into our world. He was always supposed to return to our world when it was time for him to start his schooling. I honored that request, because it was sound, and I agreed. The whole point of his being removed from our world and given into your care was for privacy and discretion." Mr. Dumbledore was glaring at Auntie now with a look that Haesel didn't like at all and said in a very hard voice: "The privacy we granted you from our world was meant to keep him safe from harm. It was not meant for you to decide to take it upon yourself to harm Mr. Potter, whether that is physically or psychologically. What is the meaning of Mr. Potter appearing to be dressed as a girl, when he is a boy of nearly eleven?"

Haesel was so shocked, she didn't know what to say.

What she did know is whoever Mr. Dumbledore was, he had something terribly confused – and the simplest means of clearing this up was to go down and make him understand she was Haesel Potter, not this boy Harry he seemed determined to find here with Auntie.

Dudley was a half-step behind her.

Haesel came halfway down the stairs with her cousin, clearing her throat to draw the attention of all the adults to her.

"I'm sorry, Auntie, for eavesdropping, but –" Haesel looked very firmly at the strange visitors who weren't being particularly nice to her aunt. "I'm Haesel. Haesel Jessamine Potter. I'm not sure why you're so determined to believe otherwise, but I am not a boy and I'm definitely not a boy dressing like a girl. I'm a girl. I always have been. Why do you think I'm a boy?"

Severus stared at the child of Lily Potter.

He didn't know what to think.

There was no denying that the child that stood on the staircase was the child of Lily Potter and her dreadful husband.

Dark hair, green eyes, glasses. It all seemed to line up at first glance, but – detail was important.

The leaf-green eyes were set into almond-shaped eyes that differed from being a carbon-copy of Lily only because of the dark lashes and elegant, round frames of glasses. The glasses that James Potter wore but had been square-framed and made from goblin-wrought gold and enchanted with magic to provide perfect eyesight; the glasses that his child wore were nothing like his, but still a trait that had been inherited from him. Dark hair was also something received from James; the thickness and reddish undertone suggested that the rich, deep red that Lily's hair was tried to be the dominant color but hadn't quite achieved making the Potter child another redhead. Lily had come through stronger in her child's face than James – especially standing there, full of defiance and a touch of dislike. The oval shape of the face, the long and fine-boned fingers suitable to handling the most delicate potions ingredients, the set of the full mouth that was familiar to Lily at her most determined. Those were of Lily, too.

The only discrepancy with what Severus knew of Lily's child was that this child was a girl.

A girl in a pastel lavender dress, dark stockings, and black Mary Janes shoes. The green eyes that Severus had only known to have rested in Lily's face were peering distrustfully from behind glasses. Her dark hair was twisted into an elegant, almost severe hairstyle that was similar to Petunia, except for the heavy and thick bangs that covered her forehead.

If she had been a boy, Severus could see how someone would instantly see dark hair and glasses and think of James Potter – but, no.

This child that was standing here was clearly the child of Lily Potter and anyone who had known her, especially as a young girl, would be able to tell this.

Severus found himself doing something he had been determined not to do. He hadn't wanted to come to Surrey at all, and here he was, doing exactly what Albus had asked of him. He felt distinctly uncomfortable positioning himself as the familiar face, knowing well and well that there was nothing soothing or comforting about the childhood that he had known with Petunia. Severus steeled himself and tried the approach that would allow him to keep most of his dignity.

"Petunia, I'm not certain you remember me. Your sister and I were childhood friends –"

"Don't be thick. Of course, I know who you are, Severus." Petunia sliced through his attempts at cold cordiality, but not with the cruelty or nastiness he'd braced himself. Instead, she was looking at him evenly, neither disdainful nor welcoming. "Am I to assume that Mr. Dumbledore pulled you into this scheme because of Lily?"

"Something along those lines." Severus stepped around Albus, who was staring between them intensely but saying nothing, allowing him to take the lead for the moment. "I'm a professor at Hogwarts, now. We'd like to understand why you won't allow neither your son nor your…niece…to attend in September. More urgently, I would like to understand how we've been mistaken all this time in thinking there was a child named Harry Potter in your care, and not –"

Severus couldn't help but look up at the girl again.

Haesel Potter stared back at him. Her leaf-green eyes were wide and distrustful. Something twisted within his gut that made him turn away; the girl's eyes were truly Lily's eyes, almost exactly her eyes.

Severus looked back at Petunia, unable to hold the familiar leaf-green gaze that was in the most unfamiliar, unexpected face.

"Those in our world have been under the impression all this time that Lily and her husband had a son, named Harry. We have believed since your sister's death that the son she gave her life for was the child who'd survived the attack on Godric's Hollow. Petunia, we need to understand what's going on to where our entire world has been believing an apparent lie. We can't leave until we know why we've come to meet with a child named Harry Potter, when no such child exists."

Petunia said nothing for a very long moment. Then, she stood straighter and seemed to be quite decided about something.

"Very well, then. Please, come and be seated in the sitting room. I have a bit of time to spare for a visit, so yes – let's talk about this."