Harry Potter felt all eyes in the Great Hall bore into him as he rose from the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore put his hand gently on the small of the boy's back and pushed him toward the side chamber. The blonde student trudged along, absently noting the heat of embarrassment rising on his face. Whispers broke out among the students as the heavy door closed behind him.

Fleur POV:

Fleur had been waiting for the Hogwarts headmaster to come in, so when her conversation with Madam Maxime had been interrupted by the arrival of her newest little sister, well, Fleur was surprised to say the least.

"Harry?" She asked, after shooting a quick translation spell at him. "Are they asking for us in the Great Hall?"

The blonde boy-turned-girl shook his head and walked over to the older French girl, who put a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened, little sister?" The Beauxbatons headmistress looked down sharply at Fleur's casual declaration, then flicked her eyes back toward the other occupants. She raised her wand and cast a privacy charm around them to ward off prying ears.

Fleur let her control over her Allure slip a tiny bit, so as to comfort the younger student in front of her, and Harry sank into the embrace like he was melting into one of Mrs. Weasley's hugs. The green eyed boy mumbled something into Fleur's chest that she couldn't hear well enough to understand.

"I know something is wrong, little one, but I cannot hear you when you speak into my breasts."

Harry blushed crimson, and pulled his face away and to the side just enough that she could here him say "My name came out of the stupid fire cup."

Before she could seek clarification, the door opened once more, allowing Bartemius Crouch Sr., Lodovic Bagman, Albus Dumbledore, a black haired, dour man with sharp eyes, and the gnarled form of a man that even Fleur could recognize as the infamously paranoid Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody.

Good, Fleur thought, absently petting the top of Harry's head soothingly. With the tournament officials here, maybe the situation would become clear.

Harry POV:

Harry felt professor Snape's eyes on him as soon as the new group entered the room. A disdainful sneer twisted his face, and he stood (presumably) ready to watch the boy be burned at the metaphorical stake.

"Well, everybody", the headmaster began, before launching into a brief account of Harry's selection as a fourth Triwizard champion.

Snape, the bastard, had decided immediately that Harry had done it himself to get attention, but that was swiftly debunked by Fleur's insistence of Harry being with her all night learning to control 'certain aspects' of himself. Really, Harry was awed by Fleur's staunch defense and logical rebuttals. Even the Potions master had to concede that the boy had been entirely too busy, tired, or otherwise watched throughout the last twenty-four hours to be able to enter his own name.

In the end, Harry was still made to participate, as he didn't want to lose his magic. Though, in his defense he was currently an entirely magical creature. If he lost his magic, he'd likely die anyway, deadly tournament and shady person entering his name notwithstanding.

Truth be told, by the time everyone finished deciding Harry's life for him again, the boy was dead tired. Physically and mentally. He was crashing hard from the Wide-eye potion, the adrenaline of suddenly being in danger again was wearing off, and the boy just really needed a hard crash. So, since he had the next day off, Harry decided he was going to just… sleep. Worrying about all that other shite could wait for another day.

Fleur handed Harry off to Hermione, and the girl looked nervous as Harry wrangled his way out of the girl's grasp at the bottom of the stairs in the Gryffindor common room.

"Night M'ione." He yawned out, before stumbling up the stairs and crashing in his bed, clothes and all. What a lovely Halloween it had been this year, yeah?

***HCTHtM***

It wasn't until the morning of November 2nd that Harry woke up. And when he did, there was a great stir indeed. Apparently, Ronald effing Weasley had failed to mention to him (Harry) that the other idiot boys knew that he (Harry) was a girl now. So, when Harry awoke the second morning after falling asleep, it was to open curtains and ogling boys.

The beating that followed, coming from the end of Harry's wand, hands, and feet, had the three non-Weasley, non-Harry inhabitants of the fourth year Gryffindor boy's dorm tearing half-dressed down the stairwell to take cover behind a thoroughly unamused Hermione Granger. Harry, disheveled and infuriated, Allure flaring for all to feel, descended the stairs like a wrathful angel, stopped only by his best friend's unimpressed stance and crossed arms.

"Control yourself, Harry. You look terrible and need a shower. Go fix yourself, then come back down once you're calm." The blonde boy gave Hermione a poisonous glare, before turning on his heel, his disheveled braid whipping behind him.

As Harry stomped back up the stairs, he contemplated not listening, but figured it wouldn't be worth the fight and just did as the brunette witch said. He almost second-guessed his decision when he heard "Thanks Granger, you're a life-saver," come from Seamus' mouth.

As he got re-dressed and pulled his recently brushed hair into a high ponytail, Harry mused that he may have overreacted a little when he had been woken by the guys this morning. Though to be fair to himself, they should have known better than to creep on a person with a known temper. The blonde boy skipped down the stairs after grabbing his school bag, and resolved to let the boys' punishment go.

Harry reached the bottom of the stairs in a good mood. He sidled up to Hermione and ignored the boys, not even taking into account he'd been referring to his roommates as 'the boys'. His good mood slipped a little when the inevitable questions on what had triggered his temper started.

"It's really nothing Hermione, honest." The Veela boy said while the two made their way across the common room to the hallway.

"From the manner in which you came down the stairs, and the state your roommates were in, I'm thinking you aren't being entirely truthful, Harry."

"I mean, yeah," Harry relented, knowing Hermione was just concerned. "I just woke up surrounded by leering idiots. Not a huge deal, but like… not something I wanted to encourage, y'know?"

The brunette Gryffindor sighed and stared at her friend for a moment, then said "Harry, that doesn't mean you can curse them and chase them screaming from your dormitory."

The blonde boy gave a bark of laughter and grinned at his friend mischievously. "Are you sure? I bet everyone got a good show."

Harry spent the rest of the walk to the Great Hall rubbing his newly sore arm and apologizing to Hermione.

***HCTHtM***

The Great Hall was packed, as normal, and the riotous noise was par for course as well. Never let it be said that Hogwarts was a quiet place. Harry's entrance into the room, however, caused a great deal of that sound to disappear as people took in the boy's appearance.

He was still wearing the male student uniform, though it was sized to fit him, and the fit without his school robes, which he had slung over his bag, accentuated the fact that he was indeed shaped differently than normal. The beautiful boy-turned-girl was immediately set upon by two people who had apparently been waiting for him to arrive.

Fleur was there, comforting aura and all, a concerned look on her face, seemingly ready to hide Harry away from the world and protect him. Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy, Harry's… boyfriend? Pre-fiance? Whatever. Harry's current suitor was standing before him, Pansy Parkinson in tow, waiting with an impressively patient expression on his face for the boy's attention.

Harry decided that Fleur could wait for a bit, and addressed his partner. "Good morning, Draco. I wasn't really expecting to see you until tomorrow for our walk."

Malfoy, master of subtlety as he was, scoffed derisively. "As if I wouldn't come bearing my well wishes and questions. Unfortunately, we have important matters to discuss, and our chaperones will be missing breakfast with us."

Our erstwhile hero felt his stomach clench in anticipation of the coming conversation. This talk had a zero percent chance of going well. Harry suddenly felt himself get hit with an increasingly familiar spell, then be pulled into Fleur's side.

"Excuse me?" The older witch queried in a dangerous sounding voice. "Who are you, and what are you taking my little sister to go do?"

Draco, confused, raised an eyebrow at Harry which asked 'sister?' Harry shook his head in a dismissive 'don't worry about it' fashion. Meanwhile, Pansy had dragged Hermione off a foot or so, and they were whispering heatedly at each other.

The youngest Malfoy nodded like this gesture had held more information than Harry actually conveyed. "Well, miss…."

"Delacour." Fleur snapped.

The grey-eyed boy's expression turned from one of irritated compliance to one of deep surprise. "You're the Beauxbatons champion, yes?"

"Correct." the older Veela responded shortly.

"And your father is a high ranking French government official? Sebastian Delacour?" He prodded.

Fleur held Draco's gaze for a moment, then narrowed her eyes in challenge. "And if he is?"

"Oh, no problems, I just wanted to be sure." The young boy waved off her suspicion. "I am Draco Malfoy, my father is a work associate of your Father's. And if I'm understanding this situation correctly, you are claiming Veela relation to Harry?"

"You know of Veela customs?" Fleur asked, mildly impressed with the young British boy.

"I know enough. Father regularly spends time on business in various Veela enclaves around mainland Europe, and occasionally he brings me along. To build my resistance to the Allure."

"An intelligent man." Fleur mused, rethinking her initial impression of the boy.

Harry stood behind Fleur, confused as all get-out, and mildly irritated they were talking without him, even though he didn't really get the intricacies of what was going on.

Draco preened a bit at the praise his father (and by proxy he) had received. He didn't let it ruin his forward momentum with the girl, though. Best to get in good with the French witch if she was going to be spending any actual amount of time with Harry.

"So, to my knowledge," he continued on. "It is a Veela custom for potential suitors to state their intention to a Veela's nearest and most influential family member?"

Fleur nodded silently.

"Then we're in a bit of a bind here, miss Delacour, as I have already initiated a formal courtship with Harry. It could be formally broken, but that would be shameful on the part of the person ducking out." Draco stated apologetically. "Would you accept my formal introduction and statement of intent in lieu of permission to begin courtship?"

The tall French girl contemplated the idea briefly, before looking back at Harry, who shrugged. He wasn't gonna be any help in this conversation.

She cut her sky blue eyes over to Pansy and Hermione, who, feeling pretty sure Fleur wasn't going to allow any inappropriate actions, had sequestered themselves into a nearby corner.

Fleur sighed. "Mmm. It seems a reasonable compromise, assuming my sister validates your previous statement of being in a preexisting courtship." She turned her head toward Harry, who took a second to rewind what she'd said.

"Huh? O-oh, yeah. No. Yeah. Yes. We-we're doing the thing. Uhm… he's c-courting me or whatever. We take walks and stuff, and there was a flower and rules and Hermione's my chaperone…" Harry started babbling, not exactly sure what information Fleur was looking for. The two more dignified conversationalists grinned wryly at Harry, then turned back to each other.

Fleur lifted an eyebrow in expectation toward Malfoy, who in response took a look around the entrance hall, groaned, and took a deep breath. Falling into a deep bow, Draco took a moment to gather his thoughts before rising and locking eyes with the French girl who looked suddenly much more intimidating.

"Miss Fleur Delacour, my name is Draconus Lucius Malfoy," Harry snickered at his full name and was slapped on the arm by Fleur. "And I come before you with the express purpose of informing you of my courtship with your sister Harry Potter. I don't know how he came to be your sister, but as I recall, Veela take such matters deadly serious. Therefore, I present myself before you, in front of all who wish to bear witness, to hear your judgment and seek your blessing in my relationship with your dear Harry."

Draco bowed again, holding his pose while he felt the scorching gaze of the Veela above pierce what seemed to be his very soul.

"Very well." Fleur begrudgingly stated. "You have my permission young Malfoy, but my sister, as are all Veela, is a blessing upon this world, and you will treat her with all the respect and dignity that is owed a girl under the aegis of the Delacour family, and one of her heritage-" Harry interrupted Fleur's speech by tugging on her robe and hissing "He, not she, Fleur!"

"Hush, darling, let me deal with this, then we can discuss you." Fleur chastised gently.

"As I was saying, little boy." She gained her bearings again and returned her attention to Malfoy. "You will treat Harry with all the respect and dignity she deserves, you understand?"

Draco nodded, rising from his bow and smiling in a clearly forced way. "As we've used all our time during breakfast, and my news for Harry is quite important, we should meet again after classes and discuss these matters further."

Fleur and Harry nodded, the older a bit more enthusiastically than the younger.

***HCTHtM***

Classes that day were a bit of a chore for Harry, as he had to undergo chastisement from Snape and Sprout, along with the absolutely wonderful reactions his peers were having to the revelation of his particular situation. That is, they were all going completely bonkers. Not five minutes of practical classwork would go by before Harry was accosted by one of his classmates asking questions, and once he'd chivvied them away so he could concentrate, another would be hot on their heels.

Honestly, if it hadn't been for Hermione and Draco running interference when they shared classes with him, he'd definitely have gotten detention for assault. Why wasn't miss Pansy Parkinson added to this short list of protectors? Because apparently she gains power from other people's suffering, that's why. Draco's chaperone had been observing Harry's escalating frustration with the students at large with growing anticipation and glee, and (by her own admission) had no intention of stopping any bloodbath that resulted from mass stupidity.

Walking to the great hall for dinner, Harry was complaining to Hermione and Ron about how effing stupid the male population was being.

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed, offended.

"Honestly, you're only marginally better, Ronald." Hermione cut in.

Ron fumed the entire rest of the way to dinner.

***HCTHtM***

After supper had been finished (and Fleur had stuffed as much as she could into Harry's stomach), the two natural born girls and Harry made their way to the doorway of the great hall to await Draco, only to find him and Pansy to already be there. Draco, being the person who had called the meeting they were about to have, gave a courtesy nod to Fleur, then held his arm out for Harry to take. Rolling his eyes, Harry tucked his hand into Draco's elbow.

The group of five made their way to a fairly out of the way abandoned classroom, and Fleur, seeing the thick dust and state of disrepair, waved her wand a few times, scouring five chairs clean and repairing them to what she deemed to be a usable state. Now that they were out of sight, Harry extracted himself from Draco's side and flopped onto one of the clean chairs, and leaned it back so it was balancing on only two legs.

"So, Draco, what's the problem you needed to talk about this morning?" He asked, trying to sound as casual as he could. Fleur very firmly pushed his chair back on to all fours.

"Sit like a lady, Harry. If this is how you sit normally, I will need to get Madame Maxime to help me in giving your etiquette lessons."

"Actually," Draco interrupted before Harry could begin giving a mature and intelligent rebuttal (whining), "That may not be a terrible idea, considering the message I received from my parents this morning." Harry whipped around, and Hermione focused on Draco intently.

The aristocratic boy pulled a small journal-type book out of one of his inner robe pockets. Opening it to a bookmarked page, he began reading out loud,

"Draco,

It has come to the attention of your mother and I that the Potter boy has undergone a rather drastic transformation. As we informed you previously, our agreement with Dumbledore to allow you to court the boy did not come without concessions on our part. Since I have invested so heavily into this endeavor, I will not allow it to be jeopardized by the foolish notion of the boy becoming a girl. Neither will I allow a prospective member of the Malfoy family to present themselves in a less than respectable fashion.

In a somewhat related matter, we have done some research into the Potter family lineage and delegated the research on his mother's family, and come to a number of interesting discoveries. The girl's grandmother on the Potter side was Dorothea Black, which is a pleasant happenstance when paired with the fact that the Evans', which Potter's mother was a daughter of, is in fact, not a muggle family.

As it turns out, the late Iris Evans was in fact Iris Pyrite, the squib daughter of Jean Pyrite, of the French branch of the family. Iris was sexually assaulted by a member of one of the Pyrite's rival pureblood families, and subsequently obliviated of her knowledge of the magical world by her father due to her not having any value for marriage, then dumped in a muggle alley. What nobody knew at the time was that she had fallen pregnant with her only natural-born daughter, Lily.

There are more details my agents have uncovered, but they are not relevant to this missive. The point of this is to show that the Potter family did not sully their blood as we once had thought. Harry Potter is a pure-blood, which in the following week will be verified and cataloged in the Ministry records.

Due to these revelations, and so as to ensure miss Potter is brought up to an acceptable standard for not only her heritage, but for association with the Malfoy family, your mother will be coming to Hogwarts with the Headmaster's permission during the Yule holidays to fit as much of her family and the Black family's traditions and etiquette as my dear wife can into her head.

In addition to informing you, the purpose of telling you this is to instruct yourself and miss Parkinson to give miss Potter as much of a primer in pureblood tradition as possible before Narcissa arrives to begin her training in earnest.

Do not mistake this for a request, Draco. The success of this courtship will be a turning point and a great risk for our family, and we will need all our great cunning to see our way through this. Dumbledore is attempting to wring as many concessions and favors out of this as he can, and we are setting ourselves up to go the way of the Weasley family if we don't play this correctly.

Inform your intended of these matters, and find a way to either change her back quickly, or convince her to stay the way she is. We cannot have the scandal of an associate constantly changing their sex.

Do not disappoint me,

- Lucius"

Finished reading, Draco snapped the journal shut, and placed it back in his inner pocket. He sniffed delicately, and sighed in exasperation before sitting primly in a chair, crossing his legs, and steepling his fingers on his knee.

"As you can see, this is quite the pickle we've gotten ourselves into, Harry." Draco grinned a little. "Though, do let me be the first to congratulate you on your new station in society. Not that you probably care, but proving that another pureblood family is still pure will be a great relief to many in our world."

Harry could do nothing but stare blankly, his thoughts racing around themselves in circles. 'I'm a pureblood? My mom was a pureblood? Sexual assault? What the hell! Who came up with this shite? What is Malfy Sr.'s angle here? Miss Potter? I'll show him Miss Potter! And so what if I wanna change my sex constantly. I should! Just keep going back and forth. That'd show 'im. Y'know what? Fuck Lucius Malfoy! I'm gonna-'

A sudden hot feeling began building up inside of Harry. He felt a prickly sensation all over his face as his anger began turning toward rage, and as he rose from his seat, his fists burst into green flames.

Draco POV:

Proceeding his recital of his father's message, Draco was doing his best to maintain his well-honed dignity. It was difficult, however, with his intended slowly working him(her?)self into a rage. Malfoy was fairly concerned for his own well-being, as Harry's eyes and cheeks were twitching madly, and his lips were pulling themselves into a snarl. He leaned back in his chair as feathers came in and out of being on Harry's face, and his eyes flickered between his normal emerald, and an ethereally glowing green poison.

He, as well as everyone that wasn't Delacour, threw themselves backward as the Boy Who Lived exploded to his feet, fists glowing Killing Curse green. Fleur, on the other hand, swiftly positioned herself in front of the angry blonde.

"Harry, you must calm yourself! You are allowing your powers to overtake you. I know it is difficult. We are passionate creatures in all things, and our anger is no different."

The older girl slowly made her way forward, hands out to show she meant no threat. Draco's Occlumency shields were being battered by the French Veela's Aura, and he, knowing this was not a situation to interrupt, centered himself to weather the storm.

Fleur's POV:

Fleur crept forward, cognizant of Harry's mental state. She flared her Aura, giving the younger Veela something to grasp as an anchor against the rage. Fleur had seen this many times before; a young Veela recently come into their full power losing themselves in their newly heightened emotions. It was not uncommon, though it was always a dangerous task to calm them without causing them pain.

"Harry, love. Please. Your friends are here. You are going to hurt your Hermione if you don't find control."

Fleur reflected on her very short time in Hogwarts as she made soothing sounds and carefully wrapped her arms around Harry's forearms to prevent him from throwing his flame around recklessly.

She'd come to this cold, dreary place expecting nothing but crude, weak-willed boys, and jealous stares from the female population. Granted, those were still present, but she hadn't accounted for this strange boy before her.

Fleur resented that she was the only Veela who attended Beauxbatons, her isolation from other Veela and the derision she received from the majority of her schoolmates ground away at her every school year, and of course she had expected her stay at this English school to be even worse, as she was at least in the same country as her extended family before.

Then, immediately upon stepping out of the carriage when they arrived, she'd felt the weak brush of another Veela's allure. It was so surprising that she couldn't help but seek out the girl in question. Yes, upon finding her, she may have come on a bit strong. In her defense, though, it was her first time finding another Veela during the school year. So, even upon finding out the girl was in fact a boy, she grasped the connection with both hands and pulled the boy close, because the alternative was being alone again.

And yes, while there was no actual blood relation, all Veela were adopted as family, special circumstances or not. So, she brought her new little sister under her metaphorical wing. Harry learned quickly, to Fleur's surprise, and while not as cute as her little Gabrielle, he made the most amusing sounds at the older girl's doting. But this Malfoy family was causing her sister distress, and now Fleur was left trying to calm the furious boy in front of her.

Slowly, so so slowly, over the course of more minutes than Fleur was hoping, she talked the poor boy down from the edge of doing something he would regret. His eyes flickered up at her's, still angry, and a little lost, but in control. Fleur rubbed the boy's forearms and opened her mouth to confirm his return to reason.

Harry's POV:

"Are you back, little one?"

Harry's eyes held Fleur's, his mind still whirling, but he was able to hold on to the feeling of the French girl's Aura to center himself.

"Y-yeah. Yeah. I think I am." Harry shook his head, trying to clear the rest of the fog of anger from his head.

What… what was that?" He asked, voice a little faint. "I-I got so… angry."

"That, darling," Fleur began, quickly turning to glare at Draco, then pulling Harry into her bosom, "was what happens when you arouse deep emotions in Veela -which your young man should already know- and do not first prepare them mentally."

Fleur took a deep breath, and sat Harry back in his chair, looked at the frightened occupants of the room, then explained a little more clearly.

"One of the things you will have to come to terms with, being a Veela, is that you are not human. We are not human. Oh, I try to obfuscate my status by calling myself a 'quarter-Veela', but there is no such thing. A Veela gives birth to Veela, no exceptions.

"We are considered magical creatures with human level intelligence, Harry. It is insulting, but true. In fact, your very situation proves unequivocally that we are inhuman enough to qualify as a viable race for the Animagus transformation."

Draco and Pansy's eyes widened, and Draco opened his mouth to interject, but Fleur glared at him and held her hand out to preempt him.

"As members of an inhuman race, we have many abilities, limitations, and defense mechanisms built into our racial subconscious. The place the American's call the 'lizard brain'. For Veela, one of those defenses is an enhanced avian form that manifests itself in times of dire need. The only problem is that what the defense considers dire, and what we may consider dire vary wildly. This, and the fact that Veela are more in tune with their emotions than humans are, cause the defense to activate in times of heightened passion.

"Anger, grief, terror; all these negative emotions feed into the defense, causing us to assume our more dangerous avian form. It takes these emotions as fuel, then gives us heightened senses, reflexes, strength, and magical ability, at the cost of also increasing adrenaline output and our fight or flight reflex. This, almost invariably, results in the emotions going into a feedback loop of anger, escalating toward rage until the Veela lashes out violently at the cause of their anger."

Fleur took a deep breath, and looked around the room again, pointedly, before finishing her train of thought.

"It is not uncommon for those of us who have just come into their full powers to lose control, Harry. There is no shame in feeling anger. That is why Veela children are taught from an early age to monitor and work through their emotions in a healthy fashion and to rely on their older relatives for support during early puberty. We will be working on that, but so not feel as if you must suppress your feelings. It will not work, and will only endanger you and your friends."

Harry blinked rapidly, trying to come to terms with all that Fleur had told him, along with what he'd learned from Draco. It was a staggering change to his world-view in a very short amount of time. Breathing in deeply, and letting the air out slowly, Harry made a mental list of questions and another one made of priority steps to take.

"Alright." He whispered to himself. Looking at the room at large, he stated "Let's get the questions out of the way. Draco first, then Pansy, then Hermione, who will be limited to five questions, because if we let her go first and have free reign, Hermione will have us here far past curfew."

Draco cleared his throat, then sat back down, shooting nervous and concerned glances between Harry and Fleur.

"Alright, first question," he began cautiously. "Are we going to be seeing any reprisals for being made aware of what seems like quite sensitive information about the Veela community?"

Fleur shook her head quickly. "No. Honestly, it's not even that sensitive. Any person looking into the history and abilities of Veela would be able to discern that much and a bit more. The instincts and mental differences of Veela are fairly common knowledge, so as to prevent too many incidents occurring due to lack of knowledge."

Draco relaxed a bit, content knowing that he wasn't going to be assassinated in his sleep by Veela trying to keep their secrets.

"Alright. That's nice." He said, trying to be flippant. "Glad I'm not going to get murdered to enslaved for being here for an explanation."

Fleur glared at Draco derisively, and Harry snorted unexpectedly, drawing the gaze of everyone in the room.

"Okaaay…" Draco drawled. "That aside, can we please discuss the animagus revelation, and Harry's 'situation'?" He continued, eyebrow arched in a bit of consternation. "This seems like something your potential future husband might need to know about, Harry."

Said boy grimaced, then explained what the problem was, revealing the existence of the potion made by the Marauders and his mother, and handing over the journal to Draco, who he knew to be more than passable at potions.

Draco took a few moments to read through the ingredients of the potion, then waved at Pansy, indicating it was her turn for questions, and immediately buried himself in the instructions and descriptions of the process, with Hermione moving to read over his shoulder and offer quiet insight and discussion.

Pansy, for part, gave the two a judgemental stare, then commented "Well, that's them done for the night."

Harry sighed, then nodded in agreement with Pansy's observation. "I'll be lucky if I get that journal back at all, let alone tonight."

The dark haired girl tutted in commiseration, then turned her attention to the blonde Potter. "So, Potter, this is an animagus mishap? Hell of a mistake. I'd feel bad for you, but as you already know, I take joy in people's suffering."

Harry glared at the smug Slytherin, but there was no heat in it, so it looked enough like a pout that it made Pansy chuckle.

"So, are you going to be working on changing back, or are you stuck like this? Because I'm not going to lie, Harry, you do look rather fetching at the moment."

Harry grimaced again. "I'm probably going to stay like this, honestly." He stated grudgingly.

This statement caused Fleur and Pansy's eyes to widen, and ripped Hermione and Draco's focus from Harry's journal with gobsmacked looks on their faces.

"What?" He squawked defensively. Rubbing his upper arm with his left hand, he mumbled. "S'not like I'm super attached to my masculinity anyway. I mean, not that I don't like being a guy, it's just that it's not a big deal to me. I like guys anyway, and honestly, I wasn't looking forward to filling out, and growing a beard, so this nicely side-steps those problems, right?"

He glanced furtively around the room before stopping on Hermione's confused face. "I mean, it's not like it's my only reason." Harry blurted out, trying to move the girl's prodigious mind away from the implications of his prior statement. "Honestly, it's only a secondary one. The big one is that ever since I woke up today, my scar has been throbbing less, and I could swear that it looks less prominent than it usually does. And," he said, before taking a deep breath so he could continue, "when I was practicing turning back today, it hurt almost more than it did before the completion of my transformation, so really, that's the primary reason why. The first one like more like icing on th-"

Harry was cut off by Fleur's hand covering his mouth and taking hold of his entire jaw. He felt a moment of panic as the blue eyed girl drew her wand and began casting at his forehead. Harry felt the tingling of invasive magic, but it didn't hurt, so he just let Fleur do whatever it was that she was doing.

It was a good twenty minutes later before Fleur lowered her wand, her face twisted in anger. Notably, she didn't seem to be going through the same thing Harry just did, but she was spitting mad, in Harry's opinion.

Seeing his expression, Fleur took a calming breath, then stated. "When we are finished here, we are going to your hospital wing. Your nurse and I have something to discuss. It's held for this long, so we can get through our conversation first."

Harry looked at Fleur in concern again, then kicked Draco in the shin, knocking him out of his stupor and causing him to yelp in pain, the sound of which brought Hermione out of her brainstorming.

After a short moment of cursing and rubbing his shin, Draco sat up and straightened his clothing unnecessarily. With a disgruntled frown, the Malfoy scion sighed.

"Anyway, assault and your gender preferences aside, Harry, do you understand the position I'm in now? Our relationship is, while admittedly more pleasant and surprisingly viable than I thought, a power play between my father and Dumbledore. This means that, as much as it pains me to admit it, we may not have much of a choice as to whether to break this off or not in the future." He nodded toward Fleur, indicating the subject of his next train of thought.

"I didn't know that you had come under the protection of the Delacour family, nor did I know about your Veela status. I thought you were just using one of the few potions wizards have available to deal with Spirit-Sex Erratum."

Hermione and Harry both tilted their heads and squinted at Draco in confusion. The boy looked at them both, eyes flickering back and forth, before saying slowly "Do… do muggles not have Spirit-Sex Erratum?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "...I don't think that's what we call it if you mean what I think you mean."

Draco's face became soft for a moment. "I don't think I've ever actually pitied muggle society as much as I do right now. Spirit-Sex Erratum is when the magic and soul of an unborn child split from the physical development of the child in question, causing them to be born the incorrect sex. It's incredibly rare, but not exactly unheard of, and it usually manifests as a feeling of disconnection with your body. It can lead to severe mental issues if not treated soon after the symptoms start. Do muggles not have a solution for that?"

Hermione looked surprised at Draco's explanation, but rallied fairly quickly. "Um, I mean, yes. Muggles have a similar condition that's been noticed as becoming slightly more common as society becomes more tolerant to sexual minorities and those with Gender Identity Disorder. They call it transgenderism, or in some cases, transsexualism."

Harry's best friend went on a slightly long-winded rant on the subject before Draco interrupted. "Thank you, Granger, you've successfully moved my general disdain for muggles firmly into the territory of pity. Truly a phenomenal achievement, but that was not the point of me asking."

Harry quickly interjected before anyone could continue. "That's not my thing anyway! I don't feel Spirit-Sex Whatever, or the transsexual thing! I just, like…" Harry gesticulated pointlessly trying to make his point. "Like, I didn't… not like being a guy. But like, the thought of getting all wide and hairy isn't something I'm looking forward to." He stammered, and looked around the room, trying not to meet anyone's eye. "Like, being in a girl's body isn't ideal to me, but I could honestly get used to it. I'm sure there's a bunch of stuff I'll have to get accustomed to, but if that rat Pettigrew can spend twelve years as an actual animal, I'm positive I can comfortably spend my time as a girl."

Hermione's eyes were a little wet as Harry finished, and she gave him a bright smile. "That is… incredibly mature of you, Harry. I'm happy you can think about it that way."

"ANYway," Draco said loudly. "We are all proud of you, Harry, and I will not lie to you, my personal preferences toward partners do lean toward females and effeminate men, but that is not the point of this discussion. We are constantly getting off track, and we have many things still to discuss. Where were we?" Draco looked back at Pansy, who whispered in his ear.

"Yes, political and ideological power plays. Thank you, Pansy." She nodded indulgently.

"Potter. Harry. The truth of the matter is that we're likely going to be forced by our guardians to marry. Yes, we could not listen to them. It's not like they could force us to take our vows. But I could be disinherited, and honestly, it is not very difficult for the Headmaster to get his way. You're very prone to self-sacrifice and noble gestures.

"The revelations of your family may or may not be true. It's definitely within my father's ability and contacts to forge the necessary documents and evidence, but I don't think he would go through so much effort for this. It's likely true, and that possibility demands that you adopt the appropriate behavior expected of people of your station. Since you seem to be leaning toward staying in this form ("more like being forced- OW Fleur!"), you'll need to learn the manners and rules of the Lady of the House. You will be expected to be courteous, knowledgeable, and a lot of other things my mother never taught me because I'm to be a Lord, not a Lady."

Draco nodded toward Pansy. "Honestly, as big a thorn in my side as she is, Pansy has a very good education in proper societal behavior. She was being groomed to become my wife, but we both found that Idea repugnant, and thankfully, my parents agreed. She'll be teaching you all the basics until my mother comes, and woe betide you if you're not up to a certain basic standard by the time she gets here."

Pansy shivered and nodded rapidly. "She's an absolute slave driver, Potter. And if she's disappointed in your progress, her words are cutting as a dagger. So, we're going to be getting very closely acquainted in the coming weeks. I suppose I'll have to get Granger in on it as well," she said, clucking in distaste. "She's canny enough to learn faster than you, and cares enough about you to keep you honest in your practice." This last statement caused the two muggle raised students to cry out in offense, which she easily ignored.

Fleur, who had been watching all of this with an amused smile, interjected here. "I think you all are forgetting that Harry has a new elder sister to help in his… no, her development." Harry opened his mouth to correct her, but Fleur shut him down with a stare that brooked no argument.

"Harry, this seems to be a time sensitive choice, as your training will be considerably different based on your decision. So, choose now. Are you going to be working diligently to change back, or are you going to be staying like this permanently?"

Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging, and a hunted look in his eyes. "I.. I… well," And like that, he slouched defeatedly, head in his hands, and after a long pause, said the words that would alter the course of his… her future forever.

"I.. I'll do it. I'll stay like this."

Fleur, however, did not accept this answer.

"You will do what, Harry?" She stated, tone even and hard. "Please don't think I am bullying you, but you need to say it. Internalize it. Making these kinds of decisions out loud can be extremely helpful. Say it. What is your choice. What are you?"

Harry felt tears well in her eyes. "I… I'm… I'm going to… to… to stay a girl. Be a girl. I'm… I'm a Veela now, and a… a girl, now."

With that declaration, Harry broke down in tears, overwhelmed by the anxiety, residual anger, and fear of the future that she was feeling. Fleur swooped up the younger girl in a tight hug,

Fleur made soothing noises into Harry's ear as the newly declared girl sobbed into her chest. "Shh, little sister. You will be okay. You will see. It is not so bad as you feel right now. Shh, shh. It is hard to make these decisions, but you will see that it is for the best. You have me now, and your Hermione, and your Draco. You will be fine. You have a whole new people now. You are Veela. You will be welcome all throughout France and the rest of Europe. We will take care of you. I will have my parents speak to your Dumbledore, and they will discuss summer accommodations. I will not have muggles trying to take care of you. They are not equipped to deal with a Veela in the throes of puberty."

It was a while before Harry was able to listen with any measure of comprehension.

***HCTHtM***

After Fleur and Hermione spent a long time calming Harry down, serious discussions between all the others took place. Etiquette training (Fleur ran roughshod over Pansy, and decided they'd be teaching her French pureblood and veela traditions in addition to British pureblood ones), accommodations ("She will obviously be staying with me in the carriage.", "She can't just leave the dormitory completely for a year!", "Then she will be staying with the girls. She cannot be seen living with boys. It will call her honor into question."), preparation for the tournament ("She will be putting in the minimum amount of effort, I will not risk her well-being."), and negotiations for Harry's hand in marriage ("We will do nothing except prepare Harry, and contact my mother. She will represent Harry's interests as a member of the Veela community, and an unofficial -for now- adoptee of the Delacour family.")

Honestly, Harry was getting a little annoyed at being talked over, and not being able to get a word in edgewise, but it wasn't like she (and wasn't that a weird way of thinking of herself), had the contextual knowledge and desire to make any of these decisions anyway. Except maybe the sleeping accommodations thing. That would have been nice to have a say in. As far as the rest of it went, she'd be more than happy to let his smarter friend and the rest of them make the plans. She was better at on-the-spot, split second decision making anyway.

The others planning made it so Harry could take a moment to get onto an even keel. The heavy blows of the last few days (and even the last five months, honestly) were beginning to get to her finally. It'd be nice to have others take over her schedule for a while. If that meant giving up some bodily and social autonomy, then that was that. Harry desperately needed to decompress. The green eyed girl checked her old, battered watch, and noticed that it was getting close to curfew.

Harry clapped her hands loudly a few times, to get everyone's attention.

"Alright gang, we should probably table some of this stuff." She pointed out in a thoroughly apathetic voice, then gestured to her watch. "If we're gonna talk to McG about my sleeping situation and, more importantly to me right now, which shower I'm going to relax under tonight, we need to go now. It's almost curfew, and I don't want to get even more detention than I already have."

Everyone looked like they wanted to protest Harry's way of addressing the group for various reasons, but nobody actually deigned to do so. Thus, the group split up for the evening with only a (Pansy approved) kiss to the back of Harry's hand from Draco. Fleur insisted on accompanying the two Gryffindors to McGonagall's office, and upon arrival, the three were instructed to enter.

"Ah, Mister Potter. I was hoping to see you soon." Minerva did not look amused, and in fact had a more severe look on her face than normal. "I'm glad to see that you're at least presentable today, unlike the travesty of Monday."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Fleur had me up all night on the 30th trying to finish my transformation and trying to control my Allure. I've… mostly got it under control now."

"I see," the elderly witch said, a bit of a proud glint in her eye, despite the situation at hand. "Well, is this going to be a permanent state of affairs, or are we trying to find a way to forcibly turn you back?"

"I… I'm gonna stay as a girl, professor." Harry sighed. "Extenuating circumstances and things out of my control make it the best option in my, admittedly malinformed opinion."

"Well, then we're going to need to make some changes." McGonagall waved her wand, and a sheaf of parchment that, presumably, was Harry's school file floated toward her. "This, miss Potter, is your official school registration and record. It has all the details of your legal identity pertaining to Hogwarts, your House, dormitory assignment, academic record, and participation in school clubs. There's more, but I believe I've made my point."

The deputy Headmistress placed the bundle on her desk, then untied it. She waved her wand at Harry and incanted a spell that caused him to glow pink for a moment, then picked up a quill and wrote something Harry couldn't see.

"Well, the good news is that the girl's dormitory stairs will recognise you as female. The bad news for all of us is that we get to break the new situation to the rest of your dorm-mates."

Not bothering to look up, McGonagall paused her editing and asked "Will you be legally changing your name? Harry is not a particularly feminine name, and may cause eyebrows to be raised by your peers when they ask why you still go by it."

Fleur nudged Harry after a few moments when she couldn't decide, and said "Well, if you'd like a suggestion, Amaryllis is a well-loved Veela name."

Hermione cut in here. "It's also relatively popular in muggle England and France."

Minerva decided to add her two cents. "It is a very dignified name for a young woman."

Harry sulked at the three ganging up on him-her, but rolled the name around in her head and on her tongue. "Amaryllis. Amaryllis Potter. Amaryllis M-Malfoy." Minerva's eyebrow rose at the last bit as an amused smile crossed her face.

"Dammit," three calls of "Language" interrupted Harry. "She stuck her tongue out at Hermione and Fluer (she wouldn't dare do that to McGonagall), and continued, while lightly scowling. "I want to be mad at you all for collectively agreeing on it, but hell if it's not a good name. Bit of a mouthful, but I'm not likely to come up with anything better."

The transfiguration mistress chuckled at that, and noted it in the girl's file. "I'll be speaking with Albus to get that changed legally, as he is currently your guardian, but you will need to get the word out to the school at large and to your family."

The newly named Amaryllis Potter groaned, but accepted the situation as it was. Not like it was going to change the situation.

***HCTHtM***

When Amaryllis (Merlin, this evening was playing merry havoc with her self identity), Hermione, and their head of House entered the absolutely overcrowded common room well after curfew, the entire space went quiet. Ron looked concerned, as he'd not seen his two friends since dinner, but everyone was on the edge of their seats to hear what Mcgonagall had to say about what happened.

The veteran professor immediately proceeded to throw Amaryllis under the Knight Bus. "Miss Potter, please re-introduce yourself to your House."

The last Potter gave the old woman a look of shocked betrayal. Then, after huffing, shook herself to get some motivation.

"Hey everybody! I am the Artist Formerly Known as Harry Potter. You can call me Amaryllis. I'll be playing the role of a girl from now on. You may now applaud." Hermione cuffed her friend 'round the back of the head, then gave more detail about the situation, after the muggleborn students stopped laughing.

"Amaryllis has suffered from an unfortunate, and unforeseeable, accident which turned her into a Veela. Do not ask for details, it's evidently a family secret of Amaryllis'. She is doing her best to adapt to her circumstances, and due to extenuating circumstances, will not be seeking a solution. She is identifying as female, but may slip up, as this was a decision made tonight. Please support her in these rough times."

Minerva stepped forward when it looked like everyone had no pressing questions. "Miss Potter will be moving to the girl's dormitory. In fact, her possessions have already been moved there. This is not up for debate, and I will expect everybody to conduct themselves in a mature and respectful manner. Have a good evening."

And with that, Amaryllis (really have to workshop a nickname for that) was abducted by literally every female in Gryffindor and relocated to the fourth year girl's dorm.