Author's notes: Since we've already broken 100 reviews for this story I decided to give you guys a treat and post chapter 05. Nothing major to say with this chapter. Some more discussion, some pushing things along and some more planning and maneuvering being pulled off by Harleen. As I said in last chapter's notes, in this chapter Harry starts being referred to as Harleen almost entirely in narrative and the only times that she'll be called 'Harry' is when another character is talking to her and uses the nickname instead of her full name.
Disclaimer: I still do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I'm just playing dress up with the characters.
Without further ado I give you Chapter 05 of A Fair Life. Enjoy!
A Fair Life
Step One…
by,
Rtnwriter
Cinnamon colored eyes opened slowly to take in the darkened ceiling of the Hospital Wing above her. Hermione blinked a few times, confused for a moment as to why she was there, but then her mind suddenly finished waking up and the memory came crashing down on her. She shot up into a sitting position in bed, turning immediately toward the bed on her right to find the form of her best friend curled up on her side beneath the Hospital blanket.
Even in the darkened gloom offered by the pre-dawn hours, she could see the raven tresses of Harry's much longer hair spread out across her pillow. It was also very clear that the shape of her friend's body was smaller, more slender than she'd been before.
It really happened, she thought in awe, unable to tear her eyes away from the girl across from her for a time. Eventually, she managed to turn and with shaking hands she carefully poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher that always rested on the bedside table, downing half the glass in three long gulps.
Slowly, carefully, she set the glass down and slipped from her bed to cross the three feet that separated her from the person she'd loved for ages but never imagined she could actually be with.
Harleen, she reminded herself as she dropped into the chair next to Harry's bed, smiling as the name resonated through her mind. After a moment she shook herself and forced her mind to focus. Okay, she thought, what did you actually learn last night? First, your best friend, that you've thought was a boy all this time, is apparently really a girl now. She shook her head. No, not 'now', she was always supposed to be a girl… Okay, I can deal with that. It'll be nice to have a girlfriend-
Her mind stuttered to a halt as she realized what words she'd thought seconds after they'd occurred to her. She blushed furiously, shaking her head wildly back and forth as if attempting to physically dislodge the thought from her mind.
Not like that! she thought. I mean, it'll be nice to have an actual friend that's a girl. Not like Lavender and Parvati. Absently, her eyes trailed over Harleen's form. Not that I'd be at all against the idea, but… Merlin what is wrong with you, Granger? she berated herself, her thoughts expanding to encompass a few more details of what she'd learned the night before as tears suddenly stung at her eyes.
You call yourself her best friend and you never noticed that he was being abused by his relatives. She'll probably be in rough shape for a while and here you are, thinking of putting the moves on her? Taking advantage of her? Hell, you don't even know if she's attracted to girls!
Groaning quietly she lowered her head into her hands. I thought boys were the ones that thought primarily with what was between their legs.
"You are a terrible friend, and a horrible person, Hermione Granger," she muttered under her breath, hands clenched into fists against her forehead.
She started several seconds later, her head snapping up to gaze into a drowsy pair of nearly luminescent green eyes when she suddenly felt a gentle touch against her knee.
"Hey," Harleen whispered, "no one insults my best friend. Not even her."
Hermione's mouth opened but no words escaped. Instead, a small sob burst free and she found herself slumped forward on the mattress, crying quietly as one of Harleen's arms came around her, one hand gently caressing Hermione's hair.
"S'wrong, love?" she mumbled in a groggy, slurred voice.
"I-I've b-been an awful friend to you," Hermione sobbed. "How can I claim that you're m-my best friend and not have noticed what you were going through?"
Somewhere at the back of her mind, Hermione registered that this was the third time that Harleen had used the word 'love' in connection to her. She quickly became a mess of anxious hope mixed with bitter disgust with herself over how she kept thinking of the girl lying in the bed.
Harleen let out a sigh, her hand never stopping its motion against Hermione's bushy curls. A handful of minutes ticked by in near silence, broken only by Hermione's sobs, before her tears finally slowed.
"You didn't notice, Hermione, because I didn't want you to notice. I've gotten very good at hiding those things over the years, and I didn't want anyone to know." Harleen's words were no longer slurred, but she still sounded extremely tired.
"But why? Like Madam Bones said, if you'd let someone know then couldn't they have helped you?"
"In hindsight, I could argue that the Headmaster might have obliviated anyone that tried, since he was so insistent that I was safest at the Dursleys." She blew out another breathy sigh. "But back then I couldn't have suspected that possibility. Honestly… I was afraid... and ashamed," she whispered so quietly that Hermione almost didn't hear her.
"Why?" she couldn't help but ask again. It didn't make sense to her to not ask for help when it was so obviously needed. Why wouldn't she want someone to help? Hermione suddenly felt the mattress shift as Harleen moved and after a few seconds, she realized that the other girl had shrugged.
"I felt ashamed, because I felt that it was all my fault, that maybe I deserved it somehow. I was afraid… I was afraid that I'd lose you from my life if you ever found out how worthless and horrible I really was."
Hermione's head snapped up, an extremely loud protest ready to spring from her lips when Harleen continued speaking. "I understand now how wrong that was, but back in first year?" She shook her head, causing some of her hair to fall across her face. "It took years of having good friends, and people that actually care about me, for me to see what was there and how wrong it was."
She raised one hand and brushed the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear in a gesture that seemed at once foreign and also completely natural, as if she'd done it a thousand times before even though Hermione knew that, until a few hours ago, her friend's hair had never been long enough for her to have ever performed such an action.
"Can we just agree that I know better now? You can stop beating yourself up and we can just move on?"
Her expression was pleading and, lying there, her small frame dwarfed by the bed, she looked so beautiful and vulnerable that Hermione honestly had to force herself not to simply gather the girl in her arms and hold her close. Instead, she nodded, smiling tearfully and went about drying her face.
"There's a lot you didn't mention last night," she murmured quietly once she'd managed to collect herself. "Like asking Dumbledore your name. You already kn-"
She stopped speaking when two slender fingers landed gently on her lips.
"Not here," Harleen hissed without any ire. Lifting her head she looked across the room to where a portrait hung on the wall, its occupant seemingly asleep. "The walls in this castle literally have ears, and eyes," she whispered, turning her attention back to Hermione, her green gaze worried. Hermione's own eyes widened before darting briefly toward the portrait as her mind began to spin wildly.
Of course, she thought, no wonder the Headmaster always seems to know what's going on in the school. The paintings must report to him.
She frowned as Harleen removed her fingers from her lips and placed her hand on the mattress next to her head. If they couldn't talk about the answers she had been promised… what could they discuss? Honestly, going to bed and trying to get some more sleep is probably a good idea but… I don't want to stop talking to her.
Hermione sat up slowly, a small smile coming to her lips as a thought occurred to her and she suddenly held out her hand, causing Harleen to blink slightly in surprise.
"You introduced yourself," Hermione reminded her. "I think it's only right I get to do the same. I'm Hermione Granger, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Harleen Potter."
Slowly, Harleen sat up in the bed, her face expressionless for a short time until she suddenly smiled and a loud laugh burst out of her, quickly smothered by her hands covering her own mouth, green eyes dancing in merriment. Once she collected herself she accepted the hand in a firm shake, both girls grinning at their silly behavior, but the air between them suddenly felt so much lighter than it had before.
"It's very nice to meet you, Hermione," Harleen said.
They released each other's hands and Hermione leaned back in her chair. "How are you feeling about all this?" she finally asked. "Honestly. Your change has to be… off-putting at best, I would imagine."
Harleen shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I'm not worried that I'm suddenly a girl when I always thought I was a boy before. I mean… aside from a bit of worry over everything I don't know about actually living as a girl. It's hard to describe, but I meant what I said before. Being this… my body feels right to me in a way I just can't describe, and now that I've changed I realize that being a boy always felt wrong, I just hadn't noticed it before. But I can't explain why, or how, any more than I can explain how this body is right."
There was clear frustration in her voice, her brow furrowed into a deep frown.
"Don't worry about it," Hermione offered. "Seriously. If it feels right to you, listen to that feeling. You've always been one to trust your instincts more than most, and they haven't steered you wrong yet. If your body is telling you that it's right the way it is, listen to it."
Harleen considered that for a moment, absently playing with the end of a lock of her hair with one hand. Her cheeks suddenly darkened, her expression shifting into one of acute embarrassment.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, sitting up sharply in her seat, concern suddenly filling her.
"Ummm…" Harleen shifted nervously on her bed. "I just realized something my body is telling me," she mumbled, looking down at her lap.
Hermione waited a moment and when the other girl didn't continue she prodded gently, "Well? What is it?"
She mumbled something again that Hermione couldn't catch and she frowned slightly.
"What? Harleen, I couldn't understand you."
The other girl let out a frustrated sigh and spoke up again in a slightly stronger voice. "I need to pee."
Hermione blinked sitting back in surprise for a moment before she suddenly flushed as well, realizing just why her friend had appeared so embarrassed.
"W-well… okay. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Natural bodily function and all. Umm…"
"I'm sorry… could… do you think you could help me to the loo? I'm just… I'm still sore and I feel a little wobbly."
Hermione practically jumped to her feet, moving closer to the bed to help. "Of course," she said, taking hold of the other girl's arm when it was offered, helping her to her feet. Harleen winced a few times but didn't say anything as the two of them started shuffling their way across the Wing to the restroom. Hermione kept one arm wrapped around Harleen's waist as they walked, trying to offer support without squeezing too hard as she was sure her body had to ache still.
"Don't forget that you'll need to sit to go," she pointed out and the girl beside her nodded, her cheeks still flushed. They were nearly half way there when another thought popped into her head and she bit her lip for a moment before voicing it. "Uh… also… I'm not sure if you know, there's little reason you should, but… you also don't want to forget to wipe."
Harleen came to a stop, looking up at her in confusion. "What?"
"Even if you just need to pee, you still need to wipe," Hermione told her, keeping her eyes fixed on their destination.
"You're kidding," Harleen blurted out a moment later and Hermione couldn't help but let out a short, nervous laugh.
"Not at all. There's… you know what? I think that you're going to need some anatomy lessons, but for right now just trust me. Wipe, and do so from front to back. You'll want to get into that habit right away as the other direction can cause problems that you do not want to deal with."
Harleen simply stared at her for several moments, looking very nearly horrified when Hermione chanced a look at the other girl out of the corner of her eye.
A moment later the raven haired girl let out a huff, eerily reminiscent of Hermione herself, and started moving forward again. "This was seriously much simpler as a boy," she grumbled under her breath. "I'm really sorry," she said again when they reached the door, her eyes directed at the ground in front of her. "As embarrassing as this whole thing is for me this can't be any easier for you. You can get Madam Pomfrey if you don't want to-"
"Did you want me to get her?" Hermione cut her off. "I really don't mind, but I'll get her if you-"
"No!" Harleen blurted out looking up at her friend. "No I… I trust you more than anyone in my life, Hermione, but I don't want you to help me if you'd rather-"
Hermione covered the girls mouth with her hand again. "There is no scenario that exists," she insisted, staring into her eyes. "Yes, this is awkward, and embarrassing, but you are absolutely the most important person in my life. I would never leave you to flounder if I can do something to help you."
For a moment she thought that Harleen was going to cry as her eyes visibly filled with unshed tears, but in the next moment she'd blinked them away and was nodding her head before she turned and carefully shuffled her way, alone, into the restroom, closing the door behind her.
Hermione leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh, feeling some tension easing from her body as she did so. "Well… that was awkward. And anatomy lessons? That's going to be even worse. Maybe I should ask Madam Pomfrey for help? She is a medical professional after all, it'd probably be better coming from her. She would certainly be able to impart the appropriate information without feeling like her cheeks were going to burst into flames, at the very least."
Hermione continued to mutter to herself for several minutes until the door opened and Harleen stepped out, wobbling slightly until Hermione moved closer and wrapped her arm around the girl's waist again, carefully helping to lead her back toward her bed. Neither of them said a word the entire way until they reached the side of the bed and Harleen turned and looked up at her.
"Thank you," she mumbled awkwardly, but the genuine gratitude in her voice came across and Hermione smiled, pulling her friend into a hug. When she pulled back, her smile faltered to see Harleen frowning, almost scowling actually as she swayed in place slightly. She must still be feeling those potions, Hermione thought.
"What's wrong?" she asked as Harleen turned and crawled her way into her bed and back under her blanket, turning until she was lying on her left side, facing toward Hermione's bed. She pulled the blanket up as Hermione sat in the chair again and leaned forward so that her arms were resting on the bed.
"You're taller than I am, again," Harleen practically whined in a rather petulant tone that completely startled the older witch, causing Hermione to nearly burst out laughing before she managed to catch herself.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Harleen huffed again, her eyes drooping slightly as the late hour began to catch up to her after the rough evening she'd had.
"You're about… what? Five foot four?"
Confused, Hermione nodded. "Yes, why?"
"Yesterday I was about an inch taller than you. Since we met I was always shorter than you, and just about everyone else, but yesterday I was taller, and now you're taller again. I must be five foot even, if I'm lucky."
She seemed irritated and that was beginning to worry Hermione slightly for reasons that she adamantly refused to think about, not while Harleen was still recovering, at least.
"Is that a problem?" she asked, unsure if she was able to keep the worry out of her voice.
Harleen shrugged one shoulder awkwardly and pulled her arm out from under her blanket, letting it rest along her side.
"No, not really. It's just… I liked being taller than you."
"Why is that?"
"...It's silly."
"Tell me anyway?"
Harleen groaned quietly, her face screwing up in annoyance for a moment before she sighed and relaxed against the bed. "When you hugged me the day I got to the Burrow this summer and I noticed I was taller than you, finally, it… it felt nice. It wasn't much of a difference, and I know-" she broke off for a moment as a yawn overtook her, "I know you don't need me to protect you, but being taller I kind of felt… I don't know, protective of you. You were smaller in my arms and I just felt like I was shielding you... or something…" she trailed off again before she snorted and turned her head, looking up toward the ceiling.
"I told you it was silly," she muttered.
"No," Hermione stopped her, a warm feeling growing in her chest. "No it's not silly at all. If that's how you felt, then that's how you felt, and there's nothing wrong with that. But… well… why do you have to be the one protecting me? Can't… can't I protect you? Would that be so terrible?"
Harleen's head turned back, vibrant green eyes glittering in the dim lighting for a moment as she stared at her friend.
"No," she said, finally, reaching out with one hand to tuck a stray curl behind Hermione's ear. When she spoke again her voice had dropped to a whisper. "No, that's not terrible at all. It… it might actually be pretty good."
The hand by her ear shifted, a warm palm suddenly cupping her cheek and before she realized what was happening Harleen leaned forward and an indescribably soft pair of lips came into contact with her own.
It could barely be called a kiss. The merest featherlight brushing of their lips but it stunned Hermione with the suddenness of it and when Harleen pulled back, letting her head rest on her pillow once again, Hermione's lips tingled from the memory of that soft caress.
In seconds, Harleen's eyes fluttered closed and her breath evened out as sleep took her, a small smile on her face.
#####
When Harleen opened her eyes again the light in the Hospital Wing told her that it was well and truly morning. Probably close to eight o'clock from the angle of the light coming through the windows above her. She came awake groggy and confused, a state that rapidly cleared up as her brain kicked itself into gear, only for her to become aware of voices in quiet conversation nearby and she slowly pushed herself to a sitting position in her bed, slipping on her glasses as she turned her attention to the two women sitting a short distance away.
"... Riddle was a student here in the 40's," Amelia Bones was saying. "Earned an award for Special Services to the School during the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco back then."
Harleen blinked several times as the much older witch sitting next to her nodded a few times, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"I vaguely remember hearing about Tom Riddle. I had long since graduated by the time he attended, of course, but I heard people around the Ministry talking about him and how promising a young man he appeared to be. He disappeared after graduating though, and I think he turned up as a clerk in some shop in Knockturn Alley for a while before he vanished again. Off exploring the world most likely."
"Are you kidding me?" Harleen practically shrieked, startling the two women and Hermione, who was still asleep in the bed next to hers, with the sudden volume of her exclamation. "Is that what Dumbledore told you last night? That Tom Riddle was a gifted student and nothing more?"
"Which is precisely why I am here this morning to speak to you again, Harry," Madam Bones said. "Dumbledore said a lot last night, but none of it seemed to be of much importance. I didn't get the feeling that you are the kind of person to bring up unimportant things for no reason. I questioned him about the shade of You-Know-Who that you mentioned, but he said that you had encountered a follower of his in your first year and a dark artifact enchanted by him in your second."
Harleen turned to look at Hermione, who was now sitting up in her own bed, the two girls exchanging an incredulous look before Harleen started cursing extensively under her breath.
"Harleen! Language!" Hermione snapped and Harleen sighed.
Guess the leeway she gave me yesterday has ended. Must not have wanted to jump down my throat right after my change.
"I really didn't want to have to go over all of this," she moaned, rubbing one hand over her face, and then irritably brushed her hair back from where some of it had fallen forward. "Okay, how do people deal with this?" she muttered.
"Here, let me help."
Harleen said nothing as the bed beside her shifted and she felt Hermione gathering her hair together and pulling it back from her face, seconds later her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. She had to admit it felt much better no longer covering her ears and brushing against her neck the way it had been.
"Thank you," she muttered, glancing back at the girl behind her with a shy smile. She really wanted to spend that morning talking about the kiss she'd given the other girl the night before. She hadn't intended to kiss her at that time, but she'd been so out of it, and Hermione had looked so beautiful and earnest, she just hadn't been able to help herself.
Now is not the time, she thought, turning her attention back to Madam Bones and the mystery woman beside her. Based on the handbag the woman was clutching on her lap, she imagined this was Madam Longbottom but decided to wait before continuing with introductions.
"Where's my wand?" Harleen asked looking around.
Hermione silently grabbed it off the bedtable beside her and handed it to the younger girl.
Copying Tom's own trick from the Chamber of Secrets, Harleen then fire wrote "Tom Marvolo Riddle" in the air, before swishing her wand across it to cause the letters to rearrange themselves into a very shocking message to the two older ladies.
Over the next hour, Harleen and Hermione explained the events of their first and second years at Hogwarts. Quirrell possessed by the wraith-like Voldemort and the shade of Tom Riddle that came from the diary. They carefully kept Ginny's name out of the story, merely referring to her as a student that had been controlled by the diary.
By the time they finished Madam Longbottom looked as if she was sucking on a whole lemon, her lips were pursed so tightly in disapproval, and Madam Bones appeared ready to tear someone to pieces with her bare hands, most likely Dumbledore.
"Thank you, girls," she said in a tightly controlled voice as she stood, stowing her quill and a new scroll of parchment in her robes. "If you'll excuse me, I have an old man's arse that I need to kick. Augusta, it was a pleasure seeing you again."
She nodded to the older woman then turned and made her way from the Hospital Wing while Madam Pomfrey came bustling over, her wand in hand to begin examining Harleen again.
"Really?" she complained. "I'm feeling much better."
"Be that as it may, Miss Potter, I will not be letting you leave this Wing until I am satisfied as to the state of your health."
Grumbling under her breath Harleen sat back and let the matron go about her business and within minutes the examination was over.
"Well, you've healed very well from the injuries you sustained last night. I imagine there will be some lingering ache, and you'll likely tire quickly during the next couple of days, but you should be back to one hundred percent by the weekend at the very latest.
"You can leave today, as I'm sure you'll have quite a bit of business to take care of, but I'll ask you to take it easy, and I want you back here tonight. I'd like to keep you for one more evening just to be sure there are no untoward side-effects of the change you've undergone. Why don't you girls go get ready for the day, shower and change into some clean clothes? I will have breakfast waiting for you when you're done."
"None of my clothes are going to fit," Harleen pointed out. "I noticed that I'm a lot shorter than I was yesterday," she added, frowning irritably. Back to being the resident midget, she thought.
"I will have some of your clothes brought from your dorm and I can shrink them down a bit so they should fit you," Madam Pomfrey offered.
Their visitor chose that moment to speak up. "I received your letter yesterday, Miss Potter," she said, pulling their attention toward her. "Once you've refreshed yourself, I would like to discuss it with you."
"Of course, Madam Longbottom, and thank you for coming in person, I was only expecting a letter, if any response at all."
"After I heard about what happened last night, a letter would not have been sufficient," she said, making no comment on Harleen correctly stating her identity. "I should like for my grandson to be here when we talk?" The lift in tone at the end of her statement shifting it into a question.
Harleen nodded. "Of course," she said again. "Would you mind if Hermione was present as well? She's my best friend and I trust her more than anyone."
Madam Longbottom turned her attention to Hermione, studying her closely for a moment before nodding her head. "I see no issue with that," she agreed, rising smoothly to her feet. "Miss Granger? Perhaps you would be good enough to walk with me on your way to your dorms?"
"I'll be back soon, Harleen," Hermione said, quickly squeezing her hand before she exited the Wing with Madam Longbottom. As they left, Harleen could hear the older witch say to Hermione, "Don't you worry about keeping pace with me, my dear. I may be getting on in years but I feel I am still rather spry for my age. Tell me, would you happen to be able to guess which class my Neville might be in at this time?"
Left alone, Harleen headed for the shower and stripped out of the hospital pajamas and took advantage of the privacy offered to take a bit of time to inspect her new body in the mirror before jumping into the shower. She decided quickly that she liked her face much more as a girl than she had when she was still a boy. The softer features felt right to her, and her eyes seemed larger, slightly more almond shaped than they had before.
As far as the rest of her body… well she had only her own observations to go by but she personally felt, if not for the scars, she was pretty damned hot, but perhaps Madam Pomfrey could help with those now that the Matron knew of them. She thought she was too skinny, but not as bad as she'd been during the summer after dealing with the Dursleys. Her hips were wider, her body holding curves to it that it hadn't before.
The scars across her front, especially those that ran over her new breasts bothered her even more than they had before, her eyes kept being drawn back to a pair that formed a sort of cross over her heart, but her wand was still sitting on the bedside table so she was unable to recast her glamour.
As far as her breasts were concerned… she honestly had no idea what to really think of them. They were just… there. She was no expert in the size or shape of women's breasts, but she felt that what she'd ended up with were slightly large for her frame. Sighing she realized she really was going to need to invest in different undergarments and was sure it was going to be a thoroughly mortifying experience.
Her eyes trailed down from her breasts, across a flat and toned abdomen, Quidditch was good for something, over a narrow waist, to the mess of black curls between her legs, before she suddenly jerked her head back up. Stop perving on yourself, Potter... but, her eyes darted down again for a moment, I wonder if Hermione likes hair there...
Shaking her head against the direction her thoughts had turned, and with her inspection completed, she showered as quickly as she could, not wanting to keep everyone waiting for too long. Exiting the shower she found a set of her uniform clothes folded on the counter by the sink. She dried off with one of the supplied towels, spending far longer than she ever had before attempting to dry her hair.
"Gods, I'm getting this mess cut as soon as I can," she grumbled when she felt that the mass of hair was as dry as she was likely going to get it without a charm and quickly dressed. Boxers went on, as she had nothing else, and her slacks fit well enough, though they were a little tight in the hips. Socks and shoes followed, then a white tank top that she typically wore as an undershirt. It was when she went to put on the dress shirt that went with the uniform that she ran into a problem.
Frowning, she opened the door and headed out into the Hospital wing, the dress shirt held in one hand.
"Madam Pomfrey?" she called. "I'm sorry to bother you, but-"
"Harry!"
Harleen jumped, startled at Hermione's loud exclamation, and dropped the shirt she was holding, looking around wildly in surprise. "What?" she blurted out. "What's wrong?"
Standing near her bed was Hermione, Madams Longbottom and Pomfrey, and an extremely red in the face Neville Longbottom, who spun around to stare at the far wall as Harleen watched.
"What's going on?" she asked, more confused now than worried.
Hermione was equally as red as Neville and was looking everywhere but at Harleen. "Harry James Po- wait… um…" She trailed off, mid-outraged shout, into a confused silence and Harleen had to force herself not to grin at the other girl's flustered state.
"Not my name anymore, love," she quipped, causing Hermione to turn and glare at her.
"What do you think you're doing, coming out here like that?" Hermione all but snapped.
"Like what?" Harleen asked, now completely confused and a look of dawning realization suddenly stole over Hermione's face as she let out a resigned sounding sigh.
"Harleen? Look down, would you?"
Harleen complied, and instantly flushed just as brightly as either one of her friends as she let out a yelp and snatched up the dress shirt off the floor, holding it in front of her chest.
When she'd dressed, apparently her skin had still been a bit damp, and the cool air had caused her nipples to harden without her noticing. Her tank top had been shrunk along with the rest of her clothes and clung to her body's new curves like a second skin. The end result being that the white material was very nearly see through in some spots and there were two distinct points on the front of her chest.
Turning, she practically fled back into the restroom and slammed the door behind her.
A moment later there was a knocking at the door.
"Miss Potter?"
"I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey!" Harleen called, almost frantically, through the door. "I-I didn't realize-"
"Quite all right, Miss Potter, but I believe you were trying to ask me something?"
Harleen lowered the lid on the toilet and sat down, shirt still clutched to her chest and buried her face in her hands. "You can come in," she called, not wanting to face anyone, but aware that she couldn't simply hide in the restroom for the rest of the day.
The door opened and two sets of footsteps reached her ears entering the room. Once the door closed again, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her and the scent of vanilla tickled at her nose.
"I'm sorry for yelling," Hermione whispered.
"It's okay," Harleen mumbled.
"No, it's not okay." Hermione pulled back and pulled Harleen's chin up so she was looking her friend in the eyes. "I shouldn't have yelled. A top like that is not sufficient for a girl to wear, especially without a bra. But it's not your fault you didn't think of that. You're not used to this, and I should have remembered that."
"I believe everyone will require a period of adjustment," Madam Pomfrey interjected. "What was it you were trying to ask me, dear?"
Hermione released Harleen and stepped back, allowing her to address the Mediwitch.
"Um… this shirt doesn't fit," she said, lifting the shirt in her hands slightly. "It won't close over… over my chest," she finished, flushing brightly again.
Madam Pomfrey blinked a few times before letting out a sigh. "Goodness, I didn't even think of that. Miss Potter, I am sorry I should have considered the difference in body type. Your shirts are all cut for a male body and don't take a feminine shape into account."
"That's fine, Madam Pomfrey," Harleen said, waving away the apology, "but what can we do about it?"
"Well… Miss Granger? Might Miss Potter borrow one of your school blouses? I can shrink that down instead."
Hermione immediately nodded her bushy head. "Absolutely. Harleen can borrow anything she needs."
Within minutes, one of the castle elves had brought a new blouse and Madam Pomfrey quickly shrank it a bit and offered it over to Harleen before she gently ushered Hermione from the room, leaving the raven haired teen to finish dressing.
She sat for a moment longer, simply staring at the garment in her hands. "I honestly never thought I'd be in a position to have to wear my girlfriend's clothes," she muttered before pausing again in thought. "Well… not my girlfriend yet," she added, smiling softly as she pulled on the blouse and buttoned it after just a bit of a struggle.
"Everything okay?" Hermione asked when she exited the restroom again, fully dressed, though still thoroughly embarrassed.
"Well enough. I had a little trouble with the shirt but I figured it out."
"What was wrong with it?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"The buttons are on the wrong side." Harleen frowned down at the front of the blouse for a moment before shaking herself and directing her attention back to Hermione. "It just threw me off for a moment."
A laugh was not the response Harleen expected, but was exactly what she got, and she gave her best friend a questioning look.
"That's just the way women's clothes are made. The buttons are typically on the opposite side of what's normal for men's clothing."
"Why is that? That seems kind of silly."
Hermione opened her mouth to answer when she was interrupted by an amused looking Madam Longbottom clearing her throat.
"You will have plenty of time to discuss things later," she said. "I do believe we have other issues to handle right now, do we not?"
Harleen winced slightly but quickly composed herself as best she could, nodding to Madam Longbottom and a still flushed looking Neville. "Right," she said and quickly crossed the rest of the distance to sit in her bed while everyone else took their seats. A tray popped into existence on the bedside table and the enticing smells of breakfast caught her attention for a moment but she ignored it.
"First, Neville, I'm sorry about what just happened. I haven't been a girl again for even a full twenty-four hours yet, so there's some things I'm just not quite used to."
"That's okay," Neville mumbled, flushing a bit more and looking down at his lap.
"Madam Longbottom? Before we start, could you possibly do something to prevent the portraits from being able to hear us? I'd rather not have what we say be reported back to any bearded individuals."
The elderly witch considered her for a moment before nodding and she removed her wand from her sleeve. A quick wave and a muttered incantation later and every painting in the room suddenly had a thick, heavy black cloth draped over them.
"There. None of the paintings occupants will be able to see or hear past that charm," she said as she put away her wand. "Please, eat while we talk," Madam Longbottom told her, indicating the tray with one hand. "You must be famished, and there's no reason you can't multitask."
Gratefully, she took the tray and placed it on the bed, beginning to eat as Madam Longbottom pulled a familiar roll of parchment from her bag.
"In your letter," she began, "you indicated that you wished to request the Protection of House Longbottom. May I ask you why would you need House Protection, and why House Longbottom in particular?"
Harleen took her time chewing what was in her mouth as she thought over just how to respond to that question. Finally she swallowed and set her fork down before she leaned back against the rail at the head of the bed with a small sigh.
"Did Madam Bones happen to tell you anything of where and how I grew up?" she asked.
"She did not. Any information you may have given her, especially as a minor, is held in confidence save for those that must be informed. Courts, Judges, Healers if necessary, and so on."
"I grew up with muggle relatives who hate everything to do with magic. My life there was… unpleasant, at best. I have scars on my body as a result of living there that I can't show you without a set of privacy screens and us kicking Neville out of here."
She paused, frowning thoughtfully for a moment before looking up to meet Madam Longbottom's gaze. "I was made to return there each summer after school, even though I wasn't wanted and I wasn't loved. I don't want to go back there. Right now it would be even worse for me, as my Aunt and Uncle sent their nephew to school and they'd be getting back a niece.
"As far as I know, Dumbledore has been claiming to be my Magical Guardian. But he's the one that sent me to live there. He's the one that kept sending me back. And he is also the one that has failed to keep me, or the other students in this school, safe for the last three years. Now, I'm entered into this tournament. My life is in danger, again, and I want to get out from under Dumbledore's control.
"I know enough to understand that he could be a great ally to have in the future, and I believe I could work with him. He is a powerful and brilliant man... most of the time. But I can't work with a man that simply sees me as another piece on his chess board. I need some autonomy, some degree of control over my own life that I have been denied until now. But I also know that I need adults, more experienced than I, to help me and support me."
Neville and Hermione both looked extremely curious as she spoke, questions burning behind Hermione's cinnamon gaze while Neville simply absorbed what she was saying. Madam Longbottom showed no change in facial expression whatsoever. Harleen had absolutely no clue how to read the woman, and it was starting to make her nervous.
"Why House Longbottom?" she simply asked, still giving nothing away to indicate her thoughts.
"I don't know much about the wizarding world and British wizarding society," Harleen admitted. "Like I said, I grew up completely muggle. I didn't even know I was a wiza- I mean a witch until my eleventh birthday when I got my letter to attend Hogwarts. But I have learned a few things very recently. I learned that House Potter and House Longbottom have been friends and allies for centuries. Potters and Longbottoms have married into the families on more than one occasion. They've stood by each other through everything for a long time, and I hoped that our families' history together might endear you to helping me.
"I have also learned that this society is largely male dominated and that, as a half-blood heiress to a Most Ancient and Noble House, I suspect that I will be a target to some of the pure blood families out there. I figured that a woman as formidable as I've heard you to be would be of significant help in navigating these situations, so I can avoid anything happening to me that I don't want."
"It is my understanding that you sent this letter yesterday morning," Madam Longbottom said, holding up the letter that she still held in one hand. "It is also my understanding that you did not know about your true gender until yesterday evening. So how is it that you were considering your place as an 'heiress' and not an 'heir'?"
And here's where things get a little dicey, Harleen thought, carefully keeping her own face as blank as she possibly could. I'm gonna need a flow chart to keep track of which people I've told what information and what story I've used to justify how I know it.
"I'd been considering looking into House Protection for a little while," she lied, "but yesterday morning I woke up, very early, after an extremely unusual dream." She held up one hand to forestall Madam Longbottom as the older witch opened her mouth. "I understand dreams are not something normally to be taken seriously, but this one was different. I was told a lot of things. Too many things simply to be the product of my subconscious or an overactive imagination.
"I spent a lot of yesterday doing research and trying to verify some of what I'd learned, and I verified other things when I could. I accurately predicted each of the champions that would be chosen by the goblet. I even knew how many of the Beauxbatons' girls would break down into tears at not being chosen, all because of that dream. The final piece, in my mind, that proves what I learned is real would be this." She waved one hand, indicating her new body.
"I was told that I would encounter an artifact, and that artifact would strip away any magic that was on me. Potions, charms, compulsions, glamours… anything at all, it would all be removed. I didn't exactly believe the person in my dream telling me that I'd been born a girl, but he pointed out that if I was actually a boy, then nothing would happen. But if I was wrong, if I was actually the daughter of James and Lily Potter, then I would be returned to the body I should have had all along."
She shrugged. "I honestly didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did, but I think the end result speaks for itself."
"What else did you learn in this dream?" Madam Longbottom asked curiously.
Harleen shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I can't say. I actually signed a contract that said I could not speak of what I learned except to one, specific person, and even that person I am not allowed to tell everything. I'm not really certain how binding a contract signed in a dream could be, but after this whole contract I apparently have with the Goblet of Fire, I'm honestly not willing to take that risk."
Madam Longbottom considered that for several long, silent minutes, as the three teens observed her. Eventually, as the time wore on, Harleen returned to her breakfast, eating quickly but carefully. When she finished the older matron shifted slightly in her seat, leaning forward to look carefully at Harleen as she set her fork down on the empty plate.
"Miss Potter, it would be my honor to offer you the protection of House Longbottom and to keep you as a ward under our care until you are of age and capable of properly defending yourself," she said and Harleen couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh.
"That being said, I do have to ask what offer you make in exchange for our Protection?"
Harleen winced. "That, I don't honestly know, as I have no idea what holdings or finances my family had, or what is currently available to me. I sent another letter to Gringotts, asking for whatever information they could provide, but I haven't received a reply yet. I would be willing to offer an Alliance between our Houses when I'm of age and able to do so. I am also open to other negotiations, but one thing I absolutely would have to refuse is any form of betrothal or marriage agreement between House Potter and House Longbottom."
She ignored Hermione's sharply drawn breath at that statement and glanced over at Neville, an apologetic smile turning her lips. "No offense, Neville. You're a great guy, and I know you're going to grow into an amazing and powerful wizard, but you just really don't do anything for me."
Neville was blushing furiously again, but he was also smiling softly. "None taken, Harry. Honestly, you're gorgeous, but I don't see you as anything more than a good friend." He frowned for a moment. "Wait… is your name still Harry?" he asked. "I mean… I-I don't think your parents named their daughter 'Harry', did they?"
Harleen laughed at that, some measure of tension draining out of her with how well Neville was taking the whole thing. "My name is Harleen," she told him, smiling brightly. "Harleen Janine Potter. But you're welcome to keep calling me Harry if it's easier for you. I've answered to that name for more than a decade, I'm not likely to suddenly forget it."
A sharp clap caught their attention and they turned back to Madam Longbottom.
"A promise of a future renewal of the Alliance between our Houses is more than sufficient," she said, bringing them back on track. "Until you are of age, you will be a ward of House Longbottom, and I will be your Legal and Magical Guardian. Is that acceptable to you, Miss Potter?"
"Perfectly acceptable, Madam Longbottom."
A second later a bright flash of light lit the Hospital Wing and Harleen found herself blinking rapidly to clear away the spots.
"Well then, you are welcome to call me Augusta, dear," Madam Longbottom told her in a much gentler tone of voice than she'd been using up to that point, smiling softly. The expression on her face quickly morphed to one of mild disapproval as her eyes seemed to move around Harleen's head for a moment before returning to her face. "Why have you done nothing with your hair?" she asked.
Harleen blinked and glanced at Hermione, who looked distinctly amused.
"What should I have done with my hair?" she asked, looking back at Augusta. "I did the same as I always do."
The older witch made a clicking sound with her tongue. "I see," she said, "but as we've already established you are not the same as you have always been until now. Your hair is much longer and you simply must at least brush it and dry it properly or it will become rather hopelessly tangled."
Harleen flushed at the gentle reprimand and fidgeted slightly on the bed. "I… I don't actually own a brush," she admitted. "When my hair was shorter… well it was always a mess no matter what I tried so I just kind of gave up on it years ago. Nothing I did ever made any difference."
Augusta made that clicking sound again and a moment later her wand was in her hand and pointing at Harleen who darted for her own wand for a moment, instinct taking over, before she forced herself to calm and sat up, blushing even more furiously. Augusta made no reaction save a raised eyebrow.
"I am merely going to cast a charm to dry your hair for you. I can't imagine it's comfortable with it still wet like that?"
"No, Augusta, it's not… and thank you," Harleen murmured contritely.
"It is not a problem at all, dear." Quickly she waved her wand and Harleen felt a wash of warm air rush over her, drying her hair and the back of her shirt in just a few seconds.
"If you're finished with your breakfast, we need to be going. I've already cleared things with Minerva and all three of you are excused from your classes for the rest of the day."
"Wait… what?" Harleen and Hermione both asked, nearly in unison. Harleen was feeling decidedly off balance as Augusta seemed in a sudden hurry.
"We're going to be spending the rest of the day in Diagon Alley," Augusta explained. "I believe you wouldn't mind having a couple of friends accompany you?"
"Not at all, but… why are we going to Diagon Alley?"
Neville's Gran suddenly stopped where she was leading the three of them across the Hospital Wing toward the Floo located in Madam Pomfrey's office and turned to look her up and down for a moment.
"You have absolutely no clothes that fit you, or are meant for a young girl's body. Nor do you have any of the incidentals that a young lady needs, like a hair brush. We are going to be replacing your wardrobe, and picking up anything else that you need before you have to face the rest of the school."
Harleen looked down at herself, suddenly reminded that she was wearing a shrunk down pair of her dress slacks as well as one of Hermione's uniform blouses. Even her trainers had to be shrunk several sizes as they'd been too big for her suddenly much smaller feet. A glance at Hermione showed that her best friend had realized the same thing and she turned back to look up at the tall, no-nonsense woman before her.
"Well," she said. "I guess we're going shopping."
As they resumed their trek toward the Floo, Harleen couldn't help but smile to herself at just how well things were going. Step one: work on getting out of Dumbledore's control, she thought. This is at least a good start.
