Author's notes: Hello, gang. So here we are again with the obligatory shopping trip chapter. I'm hoping I've managed to do something different with this one so that people still find some entertainment and I'm not just retreading old paths that others have repeatedly written.

In other news, there appears to be a bit of confusion that I feel needs to be cleared up. First, guest reviews that complain about something are really annoying because I cant respond and explain or discuss with the reviewer. Also guest reviews that make incorrect assumptions are a bit difficult. So to the guest reviewer that dislikes the name Harleen since it is a 'New Age American thing that was invented by Paul Dini and Bruce Timm for Harleen Quinzel of the Batman Animated Series'. Please do a little research.

Harleen was not a name created by those people for use with a cartoon character. It has Hindi and Old English roots, they didn't invent it. As an Old English name it was first popularized in the 1930's and hit the height of its popularity in 1983. Please try not to assume.

Anyway, moving on.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

Here be Chapter 06 of A Fair Life. Enjoy!

A Fair Life

Arguments and Shopping Trips

by,

Rtnwriter

"Is she always like this?" Neville asked, leaning over to whisper the question to Hermione, a bemused expression on his face.

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. It had been somewhat amusing at first, she'd felt, for them to watch as Harleen attempted to argue with Madam Longbottom, but the debate had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, and she was starting to get impatient.

The whole thing started as they were exiting the Leaky Cauldron to enter the Alley proper, Harleen had asked if they could stop at Gringotts first so she could withdraw some money from her vault before they began shopping. Augusta's response, that House Longbottom would be paying for everything she needed, resulted in the argument currently coming to a head.

"Unfortunately," she muttered back to the boy beside her, "You know how stubborn she's always been."

"Augusta! I am more than capable of paying for my own things! My parents left me plenty of money, I can afford it," Harleen finally snapped, glaring up at the much taller witch from behind her battered, clunky glasses.

Augusta Longbottom drew herself up, a pinched expression on her face as she looked down at Harleen. "It is not a matter of whether or not you can afford it," she explained in a stern tone. "It is a matter of the honor and integrity of House Longbottom. You are a minor witch, my ward, and you are under the protection of my House. As such, it is my duty, as well as my responsibility, to provide for your needs. Food, housing, medical care, clothes, your school supplies, all these things and more are the duty of House Longbottom to provide for you.

"You attempting to get around that is an insult to our House and a mark against our honor." The look she leveled at Harleen could have withered a Venomous Tentacula, Hermione felt. To her great surprise, her best friend did not shrink or back down from the harsh stare, though her stance became considerably less combative as she let out a long breath.

"That isn't at all what I meant," Harleen said in a much calmer tone of voice, her posture relaxing even more as she spoke. "I just… you're already doing so much for me. Accepting me under your House's Protection with only a promise of alliance that I won't be in a position to fulfill for at least another three years. Helping me with this trip as well…" She shrugged helplessly. "I just didn't want to be even more of a burden. I can earn, or pay for, my keep."

Her last sentence was spoken in such a quiet tone that Hermione almost missed it.

Augusta obviously heard it as well, her expression softening before she placed one hand on Harleen's shoulder, prompting the girl to nervously look up at her.

"You have already said that you grew up in a home devoid of love," she said softly, "and at some point, I will wish to hear the whole story, but now is not that time. For now, all I will say is that a child should never have to earn their keep. It is the responsibility of the adults to care for that child and not to expect payment in return."

Harleen flushed and fidgeted nervously for a moment. "I know that," she muttered. "I just… I'm not always sure that I believe it."

Augusta said nothing more, simply waiting quietly for a few moments before Harleen spoke again.

"Well," she said, squaring her shoulders and straightening up to her full, diminutive height, "thank you, very much, Madam Longbottom, and… can we just pretend that I graciously accepted the aid of House Longbottom without making an utter fool of myself in public?" she asked with a sheepish, lopsided grin.

The stern witch's lips quirked up into a small smile and she patted Harleen's shoulder before pulling her to her side in a gentle embrace.

"I can't remember a single moment where you might have made a fool of yourself, young lady," she said, turning to face the brick wall that was the entrance into Diagon Alley. She drew her wand from her sleeve and tapped the appropriate bricks, turning slightly to look at the three students as the archway appeared, she asked, "well, shall we?"

Without waiting for a response she strode off into the Alley, Neville following dutifully right behind her. Hermione blinked, slightly startled by the matriarch's abrupt change and shot Harleen a look before the two girls hurried to catch up, Harleen falling into step beside the Longbottom Matriarch in order to speak with the woman.

As they walked, Hermione allowed her thoughts to wander. Inevitably, they centered on the girl walking in front of her. So many questions hummed through her mind that she could barely stand it. Harleen's change, both in tenement and demeanor was at the forefront of her thoughts. Since the previous morning her friend had been very different. She seemed more mature, and more world weary. At times there would be something about the girl's eyes that Hermione could only describe as 'haunted'. However, every time she noticed it, it would vanish shortly after.

Emotionally, Harleen seemed to be swinging wildly from one extreme to another. Realistically, that was almost to be expected considering what she'd been through. Even before the physical change she'd experienced, Harleen had suspected it was going to happen and that kind of life altering knowledge could hardly have been easy to deal with.

And she dealt with it entirely on her own. She didn't say anything, not even to me. Not really. A mention of an odd dream wasn't exactly her confiding in me on what was happening to her.

Plus, none of that takes into account the other worries she must have for what's ahead, she thought sadly. Harleen was right when she'd expressed her concern over how people would treat her now. Everyone would be shocked. Some would likely handle the situation better than others. Some would doubt, or possibly ridicule her. Others might try to take advantage of her.

At the end of the day, Harleen had no idea what she was in for. Aside from the physical aspects of being female that she still had to learn, she had never experienced the social. She had no idea what women dealt with that men simply didn't have to. Social norms of behavior, the expectations that people would have of her…

Hermione frowned, shaking her head as she followed the rest of them into the first shop on Madam Longbottom's list for this trip, Madam Malkin's.

I promise I'll help you, Harleen, she swore to herself. And I'm going to help you get through this tournament, too. Whoever put your name into that goblet is going to be in for a surprise.

With that new determination settled in her mind, Hermione pushed aside her thoughts and focused her attention on the tasks ahead of them and on helping her friend. Everything else could wait a little longer.

#####

"Augusta, it's such a pleasure to see you again so soon," Madam Malkin said as she bustled out of the back room, instantly noting their presence in her shop. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"I am escorting my new ward to the Alley today for a new wardrobe and incidentals," Augusta informed the shop owner, one hand coming to rest gently on Harleen's shoulder. "The poor girl has absolutely nothing a young lady needs, so we'll be getting her fitted from the ground up today."

Madam Malkin's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise and Harleen cringed as the woman's attention shifted to her. "A new ward?" she asked, "How interesting." Straightening up, she folded her hands in front of her and her eyes scanned across the three students standing in her shop.

"Young Master Longbottom I recognize, of course. A pleasure to see you again, young man."

"Pleasure to see you as well, Madam Malkin," Neville answered, bowing slightly in the woman's direction.

"You I recognize as well, young lady, but I'm afraid there are so many students that pass through here and I've never had much of a head for names," Madam Malkin said apologetically as her attention shifted to Hermione.

"Hermione Granger, Madam," Hermione introduced herself.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm sure I'll remember in the future." With that her attention shifted back to Harleen again, a considering expression on her face as she looked her up and down quickly, leaving Harleen feeling suddenly, and inexplicably, self-conscious in her mismatched and ill fitting clothes. "You, however. My dear, you are such a lovely thing. Something about you seems vaguely familiar, but I'm quite certain I've never seen you before."

"Before we get to that, Gloria, I'll have to ask you to keep your silence that she was ever here."

Madam Malkin jerked in surprise, her eyes snapping toward Augusta. "Augie?" she blurted out in a shocked tone.

"It will likely be all over the Prophet, soon enough, but please, the poor girl will be dealing with quite a lot in the coming months, and I would appreciate it if you never told anyone she came here."

"Well, I don't make a habit of speaking about my patrons to others, though confidentiality isn't exactly a requirement in my line of work." She blinked a few times, as if attempting to arrange her thoughts before nodding her head once. "If you need it, you have my word, Augusta."

Harleen let out the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding and offered the woman a small, timid smile. This whole shopping thing was a far more nerve wracking experience than she'd expected it to be and they were only on the first shop!

Quickly, Augusta gave Madam Malkin an abbreviated version of the events that had occurred the night before. Harleen lifted her bangs to show off the lightning bolt shaped scar above her eye, to the woman's dumbfounded surprise. To her credit, she recovered quickly and simply accepted Augusta's word on the matter.

"Well, Miss Potter, I can understand why you need to be completely outfitted, given the circumstances." She paused, humming thoughtfully for a few moments as she paced a circle around Harleen, looking the girl over from every side while Harleen did her very best not to fidget in place. "Well, to start with we shall simply have to get you some proper undergarments. I can't imagine that you borrowed someone else's and it is simply not right for a young lady to be… unencumbered."

Yeah, Harleen thought, blushing furiously again as Neville muttered something under his breath and moved over to take a seat near the door, this is going to be a completely mortifying experience.

Before she truly realized what was happening, Harleen found herself hustled off into the back with Augusta and Hermione in tow.

"Now Miss Potter. If you'll remove your shirt, I'll get you properly measured."

A startled squeak escaped Harleen's mouth as she felt her eyes nearly bulging out of her head. "I-is that really ne-necessary?" she stammered, shooting a frantic look in Hermione's direction, who was giving her a sympathetic look.

"Of course it is. A proper bra isn't as simple a thing as most people seem to think it is, and measurements through clothing simply will not do. It will never feel comfortable or fit quite right, now come along."

Harleen shook her head violently, backing away from the woman as if she might suddenly attack at any moment. "No. I can't… I can't do that."

"Harleen, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, moving toward her.

Harleen shook her head again, unable to catch her breath as panic started to claw at her when a gentle hand touched her arm and her head snapped around to stare into Hermione's worried gaze.

"I don't… I didn't get a chance…" Harleen glanced at Madam Malkin for a moment before leaning closer. "I haven't recast my glamour," she hissed.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly before her face took on a pensive expression, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

"Well… are you sure you really need the glamours?" Hermione asked, hesitantly. At the incredulous look that Harleen gave her over that question, she rushed to explain. "I mean, you'll have to show them to Madam Longbottom eventually, right?"

Reaching out she took hold of Harleen's hands, gently rubbing the back of them with her thumbs. "She's your guardian now, and she will need to know in order to follow up with Madam Bones in a case against your relatives. Also, Madam Malkin has already sworn that she won't tell anyone that you were here, so she can easily promise not to tell anyone about the scars while she's at it, right?"

Harleen ducked her head, refusing to meet Hermione's eyes. "I've been hiding them for so long. Pretty sure I only managed yesterday because of the Calming Draught and because I had your help."

"Think of it this way," Hermione offered. "New body, new life, new start. You don't have to hide who you are, or what you've been through. The people that will make a big deal out of it don't matter, and the people that matter won't care."

Some of the burgeoning panic that she'd been feeling bled away as Hermione spoke. Harleen wasn't sure if it was because of the words she chose, or because of the way she was still rubbing small, soothing circles on the backs of her hands. Either way, she appreciated the way her best friend always seemed to be able to get through to her where no one else would have had a chance.

Is that part of being soulmates? she wondered.

"Ladies," Augusta cut in, drawing their attention to her where she was watching them with a curious expression on her face. Blushing slightly, Hermione dropped Harleen's hands and the raven haired teen did her best not to pout at that loss of contact.

"Madam Malkin deals with all kinds. I promise you, this wouldn't be the first time that she's come across something a client would rather not become publicly known.

"She won't say anything, and your friend is right, dear," she added to Harleen. "I do need to see what kind of damage was done. Wouldn't you rather get that done with in one go as opposed to having to disrobe here, then again elsewhere? At least this way we do something else productive with our time. Multitasking, remember?"

There was a small smirk turning up the older witch's lips and Harleen felt her own lips twitch slightly in response. Probably as close to a smile as they were going to get from her for a little while.

Taking a deep breath, Harleen moved across the room and up onto the small platform where fittings were done as her hands moved to the buttons of her blouse. "All right," she muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

With her back to the room, Harleen quickly divested herself of the uniform blouse, stumbling for only a moment over the buttons, and dropped the item on the floor. Immediately she could hear the two older witches muttering under their breath behind her and it took her a moment before she remembered that her tank top exposed the scar across her shoulder.

Before her nerves could get the best of her, she yanked the tank top over her head and dropped it on top of the blouse on the floor. Before leaving the school, Hermione had tied her hair up for her again, and she shivered as the strands brushed against her bare upper back. Perhaps five seconds of silence passed before she heard Madam Malkin mutter something under her breath and suddenly a tape measure was wrapping itself around her torso, just below her breasts.

"Are there more?" Augusta asked as the tape measure loosened and moved up to wrap around her chest, directly across the front of her breasts.

Harleen nodded. "On my front," she managed to say without stuttering. Moments later the tape measure was gone and Augusta stepped around in front of her, her eyes taking in the scars across Harleen's body. Thankfully, Harleen felt, her new guardian didn't spend long inspecting her half-naked body and instead quickly glanced off to one side. A moment later a plain black bra floated into view and Augusta plucked it from the air before she handed it over to Harleen.

No words were spoken as Augusta helped her slide her arms through the straps and then up to her shoulders and she felt a gentle pair of hands close the back for her. Hermione walked around to stand by Augusta, already holding out her tank top and blouse, which Harleen quickly put on, feeling significantly better as soon as the scars were covered.

"There's a few tricks to latching a bra properly," Hermione said in a slightly tremulous voice. "I'll explain them to you later."

Silently, Harleen nodded, her arms wrapped around her body and feeling… small, lost, uncertain in a way she really couldn't define or understand. She just felt violated, somehow, but wasn't sure how or why. She flinched when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her in a gentle hug, but she didn't pull away as Augusta held her.

"I'm sure you must feel awful right now," the older witch murmured, "But believe me, it does get better. I don't have personal experience, but my son was an Auror and I have helped with the victims of some of the cases he had during his career. I've seen it get better for them, and it will get better for you."

Harleen nodded again, fighting back the tears that wanted to well up as Augusta stepped back.

"Now. I do believe that we can see about getting you the rest of your wardrobe," she said. "One brassier obviously will not be enough, and you'll need knickers as well, so why don't we get that settled and we can see about the rest of your clothes. Have you any thoughts on colors?"

Harleen blinked, thrown off balance by the sudden direction shift of the conversation and shook her head.

"Cut and style is something to consider as well." Augusta cast a sidelong look at Harleen as Madam Malkin directed them toward a section that had more lace in it than Harleen felt she'd ever seen in one place. "Comfort and practicality should be your primary concern. You're a bit young to be worrying about how someone else might see you in your undergarments, but that doesn't mean you can't own a few risque pieces," she added with a small wink and Harleen's mouth dropped open as a furious flush colored her cheeks.

"No!" she blurted out, struggling not to shoot a glance in Hermione's direction as she did her very best not to consider the possibility of a specific someone else seeing her in her underwear.

It would be some time before she realized that Augusta Longbottom was purposely trying to distract her from her more negative thoughts, but when she did, she would feel a swelling of gratitude for the old woman.

Eventually, she managed to leave the lingerie section of Madam Malkin's shop with a simple selection of bras and knickers. Something most would describe as not being particularly sexy, but that was far from high on her list of priorities. The full covering bra she had on and a pair of boy short knickers did the job they were supposed to do and that's all she was worried about, thank you very much.

They moved on to the rest of her wardrobe after that, Harleen feeling as if she was caught in a whirlwind of cloth, colors, and designs, and she deferred to the ladies in the shop for their experience and expertise in the matter. It was only when the subject of skirts and dresses came up that she tried to put her foot down.

"I've never worn a skirt before and I don't intend to start now," she insisted after five minutes spent arguing with the two older witches. Hermione stood off to one side, hiding a smile behind her hand but Harleen could tell just how amusing her best friend found the entire situation.

"You might not want to, but the school uniform requires that all witches wear skirts," Augusta shot back.

"Why can't I keep wearing my slacks? I've been doing that for three years already."

"Because the uniform requires it, as I've already said." Augusta stopped and let out a sigh, lowering the simple, knee length, black skirt that she was holding in one hand. "Harleen… I can't begin to imagine how difficult this has to be for you, but you can't cling to the conventions of dress that you held as a boy. You are a young lady now, and while trousers may be acceptable for ladies to wear these days, the School Charter requires that during class time you have to wear a skirt."

Harleen scowled mulishly at the offensive piece of fabric in Augusta's hand for a moment before she finally held out one hand. "Fine. I'll try the stupid thing on," she muttered.

By the time the purchases were set to ring up Harleen could only stare, wide eyed, at what looked to her like a veritable mountain of clothing as Madam Malkin magically set everything to fold and pack itself away into bags.

"This is entirely too much!" she protested.

"It is not," Augusta insisted. "In fact it isn't nearly as much as I would like to have purchased, but it will have to do for now."

"Augusta! I could wear a different outfit after classes every day for the rest of the school year and never wear the same thing twice!"

"A Lady of a House has standards that will be expected of her," Augusta explained. "You will need to learn how to carry yourself, how to dress, how to behave in public if you ever want society to take you seriously."

"I'm not a Lady," Harleen tried, only to be cut off.

"I believe I was told, and saw, otherwise. Your physical changes very much make you the Lady of your House now."

"I might be a girl, but I seriously doubt I'm ever going to be a Lady," came Harleen's quick response. "I won't be fitting into any social norm that you could possibly think of, and I'm not going to try to convince people that I'm anything but who I am. If they can't deal with that then that's their problem, not mine."

Augusta turned from the counter and eyed Harleen. "No, I don't suppose you will," she murmured quietly. "You should still learn the expected rules, however, so that when you break them it is by choice, rather than through ignorance."

"Harleen, just give up," Neville spoke up from where he was still sitting in the chairs near the door, an Herbology textbook in his hands. "When Gran gets an idea in her head there's no shaking her. She's going to buy what she feels you need and you're not going to get around it. This is House Duty."

Harleen turned to Hermione who immediately took a step back, both hands held out in front of her. "Oh no," she said, her lips quirking up into a small grin. "I'm actually with Madam Longbottom on this. We got thrown into this society without knowing how things work. From what I've been able to glean during the last day of conversations, women don't have an easy time in the wizarding world. You're going to need every advantage you can get, and I'll be right there learning it all with you, if that's okay?"

Hermione looked over to see Madam Longbottom nod acceptance, "I think there's a lot we need to learn too about how this world we're a part of functions."

Outnumbered and with no plan of attack, Harleen admitted defeat with a pained sounding groan. "Fine," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest in what she knew was a petulant manner, she just couldn't quite bring herself to care.

"Very good," Augusta said in a satisfied tone. "I'm glad you've decided to stop fighting me on this. Really, all of this is for your benefit. It might not seem like it to you now, but eventually you'll understand."

Purchases bagged, paid for, and shrunk down, Harleen tucked them into her pocket, scowling for a moment before she turned her attention back to Madam Longbottom who was standing near the door. "Next," she said, "all the incidentals a young lady needs."

Harleen groaned again as Hermione let out a quiet giggle and came over to loop their arms together, leading the raven haired teen from the shop with Neville in tow.

"Come on, Harleen," she laughed. "It won't be that bad."

#####

"I am never going shopping again," Harleen groaned some hours later as she sat, slumped over a table at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, her cheek pressed against the table's smooth surface.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her best friend's plight while Neville gently patted the girl's shoulder. She had to admit, it was nice to see more of her old friend in this new body and behavior that had taken over. Harry had never been much for shopping, and despite changing back into her proper body, it didn't appear that Harleen was any more enamoured with the activity than she'd been before.

"It is only the necessities," Augusta commented in a prim tone from her seat at the table.

"All of this won't even fit in my trunk," Harleen pointed out. "Even if I took out all my school things and my broom I doubt even half of what you bought would fit."

"We'll be stopping to get you a lady's trunk, of course, and even if we weren't, space expansion charms, or shrinking charms, can work wonders."

Harleen lifted her head, blinking a few times as she looked at the older witch. "A what?"

"A lady's trunk," Hermione cut in. "There are different styles, but for students it's a three compartment trunk with one section for school supplies, one as a wardrobe, and the third for incidentals and accessories. Even I have a lady's trunk."

Harleen's focus shifted, her bright green eyes turning toward Hermione who did her level best to keep a calm expression on her face. Why does she have to be so damned pretty? Hermione silently lamented, taking in her friends new appearance once again.

Her hair had been trimmed, not chopped short as Harleen had first requested, and it now fell in layered waves down her back, framing her face beautifully, yet still managing to somehow maintain the trademark messiness that was such an integral part of Harleen Potter. Her old, clunky glasses had been replaced with a simple, elegant pair that kept the round style lenses but with a slim, silver colored frame. While her old pair had seemed to try to hide her eyes, this new set only served to enhance the shape and dramatic color that so many had commented on in the past.

Since they weren't in class, Augusta had insisted that she start wearing some of her new clothes and Harleen was dressed in a red, form fitting, v-neck top and a black pair of slacks that hugged her hips beneath a set of casual robes in a slate grey. In the end, Hermione decided the girl she'd already thought was gorgeous had been propelled into 'stunning' and keeping her composure was just getting more difficult as the day wore on.

There's no safe place to look at this girl! she groused internally. Look at her face and the eyes get me. Any lower and that top is distracting… I'm just glad the robes hide how great her bum looks in those slacks...

Seriously, if Hermione hadn't developed deep feelings for the girl sitting across from her she'd be feeling threatened by just how good she looked.

Hermione blinked suddenly, realizing that Harleen was giving her an odd look and she quickly glanced to Neville and his grandmother to find them both looking expectantly at her as well.

She flushed, turning her attention back to Harleen. "I'm sorry, m-my mind wandered away with me. Did you say something?"

"I was just a little surprised that you had one of these lady's trunks," Harleen said, giving Hermione a considering look. "You've never struck me as the type to worry about the incidentals."

"Well, I am a girl," Hermione shot back, somewhat waspishly, to which Harleen nodded.

"Believe me, I'm well aware you're a girl, Hermione. You're just not like Lavender and Parvati. They're obsessed with the incidentals. Makeup and accessories and all that. You've never been like that." Harleen shrugged a little self consciously. "I've always liked that about you."

Flushing slightly, Hermione ducked her head a bit. "Well… to be honest I used the third compartment to hold more of my books. The primary compartment didn't have enough room for all my school supplies and the Wardrobe compartment is designed for clothes specifically."

Harleen and Neville both laughed at that admission, though Hermione was happy to note there was nothing mean in their laughter. "That sounds like the Hermione we've come to know and love," Harleen said, grinning broadly at her, bright green eyes sparkling behind her new glasses and Hermione could feel her cheeks getting even warmer.

"Well, we're just about done with this trip," Augusta told them. "You said you had a couple of stops that you wanted to make?" She turned her attention to Harleen who nodded.

"Yes, I was hoping to swing by Flourish and Blotts and I wanted to hit one other shop…"

Hermione's interest was piqued when her friend trailed off, a pensive expression on her face.

"Augusta?" she asked.

"What is it, dear?"

"Would it be any stain against your House if I wanted to offer a gift, as my thanks for everything you've done and everything you'll be doing in the future? I don't want to insult you or your House, but… honestly I can't remember anyone ever taking such an interest in making sure I had the things that I actually need. Aside from the day Hagrid first brought me here to get my school supplies. But even that was just school things, and he bought me my owl, Hedwig.

"I just… I want to do something to show how much I appreciate what House Longbottom is doing for me. You could consider it a gift from House Potter, if that helps at all?"

Harleen had a hopeful, pleading expression on her face as she finished speaking and Madam Longbottom considered her question carefully for several moments before giving a short, perfunctory nod.

"I do believe that would be acceptable. However we cannot accept a mere bauble or something of casual interest. A gift, as you've stated you wish it to be, should be something that would assist, or enrich, the House in some manner. Do you believe you'll find such an item here?"

Grinning broadly, Harleen jumped to her feet, her earlier exhaustion seemingly forgotten in a wash of sudden exuberance.

"Absolutely, Madam Longbottom. I know just the thing." Reaching out she grabbed Neville's hand and yanked the surprised boy to his feet. "Come on, Nev," she burst out, "I know exactly what you need and it will absolutely help House Longbottom."

With that she scurried off, practically dragging a still shocked Neville Longbottom behind her.

"Harleen! Wait for us," Hermione called.

Madam Longbottom quickly paid for the lunch they'd eaten and the two of them hurried after Harleen and Neville.

"Over there," Hermione called, pointing to where she could see Neville's back as he entered Ollivander's shop.

The two witches quickly made their way into the shop to find Neville standing in the center of the open space in front of the counter, a bemused expression on his face, while Harleen stood with her back to the counter itself, her arms crossed over her breasts and a stubborn set to her own expression that had Hermione wanting to groan in dismay. That stubborn set to her jaw, the steely glint in her eyes… she'd last seen that expression when the face that wore it was still male, but there was no mistaking it.

It was the same look Harry had worn before walking through a wall of flames to go after the Sorcerer's Stone, or before facing down an escaped criminal and then a hundred Dementors. She imagined it was the same expression her best friend had worn before facing Slytherin's basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

Crap, she thought. This could get ugly. Whatever she's planning could easily blow up in her face and I don't know how to help!

"Why are we here, Harleen?" Augusta asked warily.

"We're here to correct something that should have been done years ago," Harleen informed them in a clipped tone that had Hermione wincing.

Coming off as confrontational or combative is probably not the best way to start whatever this is, Harleen, she thought, shooting a cautious glance in the direction of the Longbottom Matriarch.

"Explain."

It was not a request, but a demand.

Harleen nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "First, I'd like to apologize if I come across as… well, overly blunt. Ask Hermione, I don't have her tact or way with words. So I'm just going to say what I need to say and beg a little forgiveness in advance."

She took a deep breath and lowered her hands to her sides, staring unflinchingly at her new guardian.

"Yesterday, was I James Potter?"

Augusta frowned. "No, of course not."

"Then today, am I Lily Potter?"

"No," Augusta said exasperated. "What does this have to do with-"

"If I am not either of my parents, then why do you seem to be treating Neville as if he is, or should be, Frank?"

There was a hiss of a sharply drawn breath and Hermione blinked, utterly bewildered to see both Longbottom's pale dramatically.

"You don't know what you're-"

"I think we've already established that I know a lot more than people think I do, haven't we?" Harleen said, cutting off Augusta's angry statement before she could really get started. "I never met your son, Madam Longbottom, but from what I've heard he was a good man. The kind of man one could look up to, to see as a role model. He sounds like a man I could respect and I understand that is the kind of man you want Neville to be.

"But Neville is not his father. He never will be, but he also doesn't have to be in order to still be a good man worthy of respect. I already respect Neville for the man he is and the man I know he'll become. He doesn't need to use his father's old wand in order to honor Frank. In fact, by not getting Neville a wand that is matched to him, I would go so far as to say that you are dishonoring Frank by not giving his son the proper tools that he needs to grow as a wizard."

While she spoke, Augusta slowly sank into the spindly little chair that was sitting against the wall across from the counter, her face a contrast of emotions that Hermione couldn't quite place as they flickered over the older witch's face far too fast for her to properly identify one before it changed into something else.

"Neville is his father's son," Augusta argued, "He should be proud to use his wand."

"That's not the point," Harleen shot back. "If the wand isn't suited to Neville then it doesn't matter how proud he is, he's being held back by a wand that is constantly fighting against him. Failing to manage spells that should be simple for him is damaging his confidence. I know that Neville has a lot of power at his fingertips, but he can't realize that power using his father's wand."

"As much as I'd like to believe that, Neville has never shown much power."

"Gran's right, Harry," Neville interjected shamefully, "I've never been very strong."

"That's a load of thestral crap, Nev," Harleen snapped. "You're a very powerful wizard, and you'd know that if you'd been given the proper tools to begin with."

"What makes you so sure of all this?"

Harleen glared at Augusta, lifted her right hand, and silently tapped her temple with her index finger, her meaning immediately clear to Hermione.

Harleen knew things, things that she couldn't possibly know, and her absolute belief in this matter told the bushy haired witch that this was another one of those things.

"Madam Longbottom?" she asked, cutting into the conversation for the first time, "what could it hurt to see if there's a wand that will match Neville? If there isn't then all we've done is waste a bit of time. But if there is…" She trailed off with a helpless shrug as all three of them turned in her direction.

"I mean… I was just thinking of my first time here, and Mister Ollivander told me that it was the wand that chooses the witch or wizard. If Neville's wand didn't choose him, wouldn't it stand to reason that he'd get better results from a wand that did?"

"I could not have put it better myself, Miss Granger."

All four of them jumped, Hermione even letting out a startled squeak, to her dismay, as a new voice suddenly intruded on them.

"You do that on purpose, don't you?" Harleen accused the old wand maker as he stepped out of the shadows near the front door where he'd apparently been standing the entire time.

Ollivander's lips twitched, as if he were fighting back a smile. "I am quite sure that I have no idea what you are talking about Miss…." He paused, peering at Harleen for a moment before his almost luminous, silver eyes widened in apparent surprise. "... Miss Potter," he breathed. "Well… how curious… how very curious indeed."

Hermione was pretty sure that she heard Harleen mutter 'sure you don't,' under her breath and had to stifle a giggle.

"Uh… yeah, about the whole 'Miss Potter' thing-"

"Do not worry, Miss Potter. How this came to be, and why, are no concern of mine, or anyone else's. I won't be mentioning it to anyone, as it is none of my business. How can I help you today? Is your wand giving you trouble?"

"No, no trouble, but I'm sure you heard that Neville here isn't using a wand that was properly matched for him and I'd like to see about correcting that."

The old wand maker nodded, his attention shifting toward Neville as he moved a step closer to the young wizard. "As Miss Potter so eloquently stated earlier, a wand that is not matched to the witch or wizard will actively fight against that person. Your father matched an oak wand, twelve and a half inches, with a dragon heartstring core. I remember him being a brash, forceful presence, even as a child.

"You, Young Master Longbottom, are entirely ill fitted to such a wand. You are more subtle, more introspective but, I think, no less the brave Gryffindor that your father was."

By the time that Ollivander finished speaking he had moved around them and behind the counter, pulling long boxes from the shelves as he went as Neville flushed under the compliment. Neville turned, giving a pleading look to his grandmother, who was struggling to find her voice.

Personally, Hermione didn't think that the woman was often stunned into silence as she had been today. She didn't seem the type. More like she's used to being the one that stuns others into silence, she thought, barely holding back an amused snort.

Eventually, Augusta let out a resigned sounding sigh and nodded her head. "Go ahead and see if there is a wand for you."

Neville beamed at her and rushed over to hug his grandmother before he quickly turned back to Mister Ollivander. Within twenty minutes there was a sizeable pile of rejected wands on the counter and Ollivander was looking more and more excited with each rejection. Hermione noticed that, while the old wizard may have been enjoying the challenge of matching Neville with an appropriate wand, Neville appeared more and more dejected with each failure.

"Mister Ollivander?" Harleen spoke up after the thirtieth failure. "Would you be open to a suggestion?"

Ollivander paused in the act of reaching for another box and slowly turned his head toward the slip of a girl, blinking his luminous eyes several times in apparent confusion. His hand pulled back from the dusty box and his body turned until it matched up with his head, facing Harleen directly.

Okay, that was creepy, Hermione thought, firmly suppressing a shudder.

"I don't believe anyone has ever attempted to offer a suggestion in my own shop before," the old wizard commented in a thoughtful tone. He quickly waved away Harleen's stammered apologies. "Not to worry, I honestly find the idea intriguing. What would you suggest for Master Longbottom?"

"Cherry wood for the body of the wand," Harleen stated firmly, no trace of hesitation apparent in her manner or her tone and the old man blinked again, eyeing her curiously.

"I have a little more than a dozen cherry wood wands. Have you a suggestion for the core?"

"Unicorn hair," came the swift response.

"Hmmmm… I do have a cherry wand with a unicorn hair core. I made it nearly a decade ago." He turned his attention to Neville. "Are you willing to give it a try, Master Longbottom?"

Neville eyed Harleen for several seconds and Hermione imagined that she could almost see the wheels turning in the boy's head. "Harleen has never steered me wrong," he finally said, shifting his own attention back to Ollivander, "I don't see any reason why she'd start now."

"Very good," Ollivander said, reaching up for yet another long, dusty box from a high shelf behind the counter. "This is actually the only cherry wand that I have left that contains a unicorn hair as its core," he said as he opened the box to remove the beautifully polished wand from within its velvet lined interior, presenting the handle toward Neville.

Somewhat nervously, despite his confident statement of support for Harleen's suggestion, Neville reached out and grasped the wand carefully and, after a moment's hesitation, he gave it a graceful wave through the air. Hermione wasn't sure what to expect from the wand, her only experience being when she was first introduced to her own wand and the stream of iridescent bubbles that had filled the air in the shop when she first gave it a wave.

As Neville waved the wand a warm, soothing breeze swept through the shop, bringing with it the scents of fresh earth, wild flowers, and it reminded Hermione strongly of all things green and teeming with life. In a matter of seconds the entire counter and half way up each wall was suddenly covered in clinging vines that burst into a display of colorful blooms, filling the air with their sweet scent.

"Wow."

Neville's quiet exclamation was awed, wide eyes fixed on the gleaming wand in his hand as Harleen nodded her head in agreement, her eyes taking in the colorful display around them.

"Master Longbottom's magic is far more matured at his age than it was three years ago," Ollivander said, his own wand flicking back and forth as he cleaned up after Neville. "That would be why the effect of his bonding to his wand was so much more than the usual shower of sparks or other simple effects one sees when an eleven-year-old bonds with their first wand."

"Way to go, Neville!" Harleen congratulated the still awestruck boy, beaming at him and clapping him on the shoulder with one hand. "How's it feel to have your own wand, mate?"

"Harleen… it isn't proper for a young lady to speak that way."

Harleen blinked and turned to look at a shaky Madam Longbottom from where she was rising from the chair against the wall.

"What?"

Neville chuckled for a moment, his eyes still a little wide and fixed on the wand in his hand. "You're the ward of House Longbottom," he reminded her, "and the Heiress of House Potter. At your level of social status there are plenty of rules of etiquette that you're going to have to learn. Proper speech and comportment falls into that and a Lady of a House would never call an unattached male not related to her by blood, 'mate'."

By the expression on her face, Hermione could tell that Harleen was likely cursing up a storm in her head and she bit back another giggle at the sight.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" Harleen muttered.

"Don't worry," Neville told her, finally tearing his eyes away from his new wand to reach out and pat Harleen's shoulder consolingly. "I've had lessons on this stuff for years and while my instruction has differences, being male, I'll help as much as I can."

Harleen sighed but turned more fully to face Augusta, squaring her shoulders and adopting a posture Hermione had never seen before. Back straight, her hands clasped almost demurely in front of her with her chin raised level with the floor, eyes fixed on the Longbottom Matriarch.

"Does House Longbottom accept this gift from House Potter?" she asked in a clear, even tone. "It is a gift meant to strengthen and enrich the House of Longbottom and is offered out of friendship and gratitude."

Augusta's expression was cloudy as she fought with a rush of different emotions but she nodded her head. "The gift is more than acceptable," she said, "both because it will help the Scion of House Longbottom to reach his potential and because you helped to open a foolish old woman's eyes to the damage she was doing, clinging to the past."

Harleen's expression was a small, sad, understanding smile gently curving her lips. "Take your son's wand, Madam Longbottom, and give it a place of honor to display it in your home," she said softly. "Neville is going to be a credit to your House entirely on his own merit, I promise you."

Harleen turned back to Ollivander as Neville quickly crossed over to his Gran to begin speaking to her in a low tone that Hermione couldn't make out. "Thank you, Mister Ollivander. We'll take the wand, one wand care kit, and three of your quick release wrist hosters."

"I thought you needed to go to the bank, Harleen," Hermione muttered to her as the old wizard went about collecting the requested items.

"If I was buying an entire wardrobe and everything else, yeah. But for this and a stop at Flourish and Blotts, I have enough on me."

Ollivander had the purchases ready in just a few moments and Harleen handed over the requested Galleons. Hermione watched as Harleen pushed up her right sleeve and strapped one of the black, dragon hide holsters to her forearm before she lowered her sleeve and slid her wand, handle first into the holster.

Holding her hand up, she flicked her wrist and, with a loud click, her wand shot out of her sleeve and a startled yelp escaped her as she barely managed to catch it before it would have gone flying out of her hand. She cursed under her breath and adjusted her grip on the wand before she flicked her wrist a second time, sending her wand shooting back up her sleeve. She scowled slightly, but gave an approving nod.

"I must say I am impressed," Ollivander said. "I don't believe I've ever seen anyone use one of those holsters so well on their first try."

Harleen flushed slightly and muttered something about 'Seeker reflexes' under her breath. "These have the usual anti-summoning charms and the like, right?"

"They do, and they can be worn in muggle areas without drawing attention as well, even with short sleeves."

"Excellent. Thank you very much, Mister Ollivander."

Hermione suddenly found her upper arm being grabbed as Harleen nearly dragged her across the room to where Neville and his Gran were standing, apparently finished with their discussion. Reaching the two, Harleen immediately pressed one of the two remaining holsters into Neville's hands and the other into Hermione's.

"I want you two to wear these and use them. They take some practice and getting used to, usually, so practice with them tonight and keep practicing until you're comfortable with the draw."

"Why do we need Auror grade holsters, Harleen?" Neville asked, studying the item in his hands.

"Someone put my name in that goblet, and I'm pretty sure they didn't do it just to try to give me a chance to win a thousand galleons," Harleen explained, already in the process of securing Hermione's new holster to her arm. "I have enemies, and I want my friends to have every advantage that I can give you if those enemies decide to come after you in order to get to me."

Hermione and Neville both accepted their gifts without complaint after that explanation and it wasn't until they were leaving the shop, some ten minutes later, that she realized that Harleen apparently wasn't including Ron amongst her list of friends.

Honestly, she wasn't at all certain how to feel about that.

#####

That evening, Harleen sat in her bed in the Hospital Wing, idly playing with her new wand holster as she thought long and hard over her situation. The day had gone well, she felt. Gaining House Protection from Neville's Gran helped hogtie Dumbledore. With Augusta now her magical guardian, the old man couldn't make decisions regarding her welfare anymore. As her legal guardian Harleen would be living at Longbottom Hall when she wasn't in school, so she would never have to go back to the Dursleys' house ever again.

Those two things, by themselves, would have made this a red letter day for Harleen Potter, but then came the shopping trip that followed. As embarrassed as she'd been with underwear shopping, and as annoying as it had been to argue with Madam Longbottom over skirts and dresses… Harleen had noticed the way Hermione had looked at her when she'd tried on a few of the outfits that had been selected.

She wanted me, Harleen thought, a flush staining her cheeks even as a giddy, elated feeling grew in her chest. She couldn't remember Hermione ever once looking at the male version of her the way the girl had looked at her that day.

The way Hermione's gaze had lingered on her body had, more than anything Augusta had said, been what convinced her to accept a few of the more revealing outfits that had been suggested. If that inspired looks from some of the male population… well, she could deal with that as long as Hermione kept looking at her that way.

She was suddenly jerked out of her thoughts when she fumbled her wand, nearly missing it as it came flying out of her sleeve and into her hand, forcing her to adjust her grip on the handle before she could send it shooting back up the sleeve of her striped hospital pajama top and into the holster hidden there.

"Stop getting distracted," she muttered to herself, frowning at the spot where the holster sat on her forearm beneath her sleeve while she refocused her thoughts.

So far since coming back she'd managed to remove herself from most of Dumbledore's control. She'd obviously made some headway on her situation with Hermione, and by getting Neville his wand nearly two years earlier than before, she managed to ensure that he would grow into a stronger, more confident wizard much sooner.

Unfortunately she didn't yet know if her efforts on Halloween had made any difference. Did people believe that she entered herself into the tournament? Would she be able to salvage a potential friendship with Cedric and some of the other members of Hufflepuff? Would Ron abandon her like he did last time through? Did she care if he did or not? What about Slytherin and Ravenclaw? She knew she needed to cultivate new alliances and friendships, but who should she approach?

She fell back in her bed with a quiet huff of expelled air, staring up at the familiar ceiling above her.

Well, she thought, overall I guess things haven't been going badly. Some progress has been made at least. But I need to remember, I'm not going to solve all of this in the first week. Gonna need to learn to have some patience.

There was a great deal that needed to be done. She knew that, and the tasks ahead of her were daunting in the extreme, to say the least, when taken as a whole. Aside from training herself and gathering allies, things she could do entirely on her own, she knew that she would need help in other areas if she was to succeed at her destiny. It was clear to her that getting Hermione on board and up to speed, as much as possible, needed to be her next, most important, goal.

Good thing I snuck those books into her pocket, she thought. After all, having her best friend and the Brightest Witch of her Age helping her could never be a bad thing.

#####

"What've you got there?"

Hermione looked up from the two books she'd just found shrunken down in her pocket to find Neville lowering himself into the armchair across from her. She had quickly claimed the sofa near the fireplace in their Common Room right after dinner and had been working on her assignments since until a search through her pockets for something she could no longer remember had brought her attention to the books she now held.

"I'm not entirely certain," she admitted with a frown and set the books down on the low table in front of her as she drew her wand from an inside pocket of her robes.

She made a mental note to practice with the holster Harleen had given her so that she could start using it properly. The first time she'd tried it out, her wand had gone shooting out of her sleeve to land on the floor of the Common Room several feet away from her, to her complete embarrassment.

With a wave of her wand and a quiet 'finite' the two books grew back to their full size and her head snapped up as Neville let out a surprised whistle to find him staring, wide eyed, at the books.

"What?" she asked. "What is it?"

She looked back down at the now full sized books, even more curious about them after his reaction. They weren't exceptionally thick books, each with a plain, unadorned cover save for the golden lettering that made up their titles, 'The Occluded Mind' and 'Hidden Strength of the Mental Arts'.

"These books… this is a gray area, legally speaking."

"How so?" And how did they end up in my pocket, for that matter?

Neville frowned, his brow creasing deeply as he stared at the books.

"They deal specifically with a branch of mind magics called Occlumency. That's the art of protecting your mind against mental intrusion from Legilimency-"

"Wait… mind reading?" Hermione cut him off, her tone reflecting the horror she felt.

Neville shook his head. "Not exactly. Legilimency allows someone to view another person's memories, but not reading their thoughts as such. Occlumency is the defense against that. It also allows for a more organized mind."

She considered that carefully for a moment, her gaze returning to the innocuous looking tomes on the table "What makes it a legal grey area?" she finally asked.

"Well… according to the Ministry, the Mental or Mind Arts are dangerous and should only be used by trained professionals, so they have made teaching Legilimency or Occlumency illegal, punishable by a five year stint in Azkaban."

She noticed the emphasis he placed and let out an annoyed huff. "Teaching, but not learning?"

"Exactly. A lot of pureblood families have taught Occlumency to their children from a young age in order to protect family secrets and such and they rallied together to make certain that no law expressly forbade learning either discipline. It's fairly widely believed amongst most of those families, light and dark, that the Ministry's only reason for trying to outlaw Occlumency specifically is because they don't like the idea of citizens being able to keep secrets from them."

And Harleen has a lot of secrets that she promised to explain to me, Hermione thought, suddenly sure that she knew where the books had come from. She must want me to learn to protect my mind. But is she going to talk to me before or after I've learned it? How long does it take to learn, anyway?

She quickly shrank the two books and stuffed them back into her pocket before standing and gathering together the rest of her work that had been spread out across the table, efficiently packing everything away into her bag and slinging it over one shoulder. "Thank you, Neville," she said, offering him a small smile. "I'm going to head up to bed. Goodnight."

Barely waiting for a reply she started toward the stairs that would lead her up to her dorm room, intent on investigating the books currently burning a hole in her pocket when a voice stopped her just as her foot hit the bottom step.

"Don't suppose the cheat told you how he entered his name, did he? Bloody git."

She blinked several times in surprise and slowly turned to face an irate seeming redhead.

"What?" she asked, not entirely certain that she'd heard correctly.

"Harry," Ron grumbled. "The git never even told me that he was going to put his name in the goblet."

Hermione frowned, not immediately certain what to be most annoyed about, the fact that Ron was accusing Harleen of cheating, or that he appeared to be ignoring that his supposed 'best friend' was a girl. "Har-"

"Don't even try to stick up for him," he cut her off angrily. "After everything we've been through, you'd think that he'd have told us at least."

"Ron! She already-"

He cut her off again, turning away from her in a huff. "Figures that you wouldn't say anything," he practically snarled as he stomped away toward the boy's stairs. "Thick as thieves like always, you two, and just leave me out of things. Just like last year."

Before she could even attempt to form a response he moved out of sight, disappearing toward the dorms and she had to resist the urge to stomp her foot out of pure frustration. Without Ron available for her to vent said frustration at she took a moment to debate on if she should chase after him or not before finally continuing on her way to her own dorm. She had more important things to worry about than Ron Weasley, after all.

In the dorm, she was pleased to find that her roommates were all out. While Fay Dunbar wouldn't have bothered her, Lavender and Parvati would have been relentless in hounding her with questions that she didn't want to answer. She placed the shrunken books on her bed and tucked her bag underneath her nightstand before quickly going about her evening rituals. She changed into her sleepwear, brushed her teeth, and fought her hair into some semblance of control, tying it back into a low ponytail before she climbed into her bed and closed her curtains.

A few quick spells ensured that she wouldn't be bothered by anyone and she finally turned her attention to the books.

After returning them to their normal size she flipped them both open and couldn't help a small smile when she found a folded scrap of parchment tucked inside one of them, just as she'd expected. Snatching it up, she unfolded it and started to read.

Hermione-

I don't have a lot of time here so I'll be brief. I promised you answers, and you'll get them, but right now your mind is unprotected. Learning Occlumency needs to be a priority but I won't make you wait until you've learned it for your answers. Just please, start working on it as soon as you can.

In the meantime avoid eye contact with most people until you can guard your thoughts, especially Dumbledore and Snape. I know you have a deep seated trust in authority figures but please don't let that blind you to the fact that they're human with all the flaws and problems as any other human. They make mistakes, they can be wrong, and they can be unfair and biased.

We'll talk as soon as we can.

Love,

Harleen.

The short letter was lowered into her lap as Hermione turned the words over in her mind. She wanted to argue with some of what Harleen had said, but if she was being honest with herself, she couldn't. She knew that she did place those in positions of authority on a bit of a pedestal. She knew she was a stickler for following the rules and staying out of trouble, two things that went right out the window when a certain Potter was involved.

After hearing about what Dumbledore had done to her best friend however… she didn't think her faith in authority had ever been so thoroughly shaken. She could, and did, still respect the old wizard for his power and his brilliant mind, but she would never again be able to trust him as she once had. Some small part of her was saddened to realize that, even while it served to strengthen her resolve to be there to support Harleen.

She set aside the letter and picked up the first book, 'The Occluded Mind' and began to read. It would be many hours before she managed to sleep and when she did, her dreams would be filled with visions of long, raven colored hair and vivid green eyes.