Author's notes: Here we go again. I'm really so far beyond thrilled with the reception this story has received I can't even begin to properly explain it. You guys are awesome and I'm glad you're enjoying the story.
With this chapter I only have one more that's complete. Chapter 09 is unfinished but I am working on it along with Soul Scars and an expanded intro chapter for Slytherin Included. If I post SI it'll be as a new story since chapter one is already much changed from the little one shot that I published previously.
Also with this chapter things lean more toward the M rating in the beginning and this wont be the only one. Later scenes will be worse than this chapter, too. So if M rated femslash bothers anyone you have been warned.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Here's Chapter 07 of A Fair Life. Enjoy!
A Fair Life
The Next Great Adventure
by,
Rtnwriter
The Room of Requirement was a wonderful tool, providing everything she needed to prepare. A space to work out in, a track to run on, and a pool to cool off in and work on her swimming. The pool, in particular, was looking more and more enticing as time went on and when Harleen finally finished the third mile of her run she hunched over with her hands on her knees, panting harshly as her breath burned in her throat and lungs.
After regaining her breath she hurried to a small changing room, slipping into her swimsuit and rinsing off the worst of the sweat before she plunged into the cool water, counting in her head as she began swimming laps. The second task was looming ever closer and she did not want to be caught as unprepared as she'd been last time.
With her head underwater, she felt the splash more than she heard it and came to a stop, letting her feet drop to the bottom of the pool in the shallow end as she looked around for the source of the disturbance. A pair of arms suddenly circled her waist from behind, a small splash reaching her ears as a warm body pressed against her, breasts flush against her back, breath hot against her ear.
Harleen stiffened entirely, her body going rigid until the arms loosened, hands falling to her waist as they gently urged her to turn around. Cinnamon colored irises greeted her, the pupils dilated until only a thin, bright ring of color surrounded those darkened pools. She moved easily, letting Hermione push her back until she felt the wall of the pool against her back, her slight frame bracketed between the side of the pool and the warm, smooth body of her best friend.
The hands on her waist tightened and Harleen let out a startled yelp as she found herself lifted up and out of the pool so that her bum landed on the edge, legs trailing into the water. Before she could even think to question what the other girl was doing those hands she'd felt moved from her waist, sliding down her bare thighs to her knees until they pushed, pressing against her unresisting legs until she was spread open.
Hermione moved closer in the water, grinning up at her until the older girl leaned forward, her lips suddenly coming into contact with her right leg, just above her knee. Harleen's mouth dropped open, a quiet breath escaping her as those soft lips slowly moved higher, switching back and forth from one leg to the other, each gentle kiss moving further toward the center of her. She squirmed in place, senses overwhelmed by the sudden assault on her body.
Hermione was an inch away, if that. Lips and tongue now trailing across her skin as Harleen's hands moved from where they'd been braced on the ground behind her to tangle her fingers in the soaked mane of Hermione's tangled curls, quietly gasping, "oh my-"
"- God!"
Harleen sat up sharply, her breath coming fast, heart pounding in her chest, her hair clinging to the sweat beaded skin of her forehead and neck. Her eyes flitted rapidly around the dimly lit confines of the Hospital Wing, mind whirling in an attempt to make sense of what she was seeing.
Finally, after several minutes passed her by, she slumped back onto the bed, breath and heart rate calmed to stare up at the blurred ceiling above her.
"Just a dream," she muttered. "Holy fuck… it was just a dream."
What the hell was that?
#####
"What are you going to do today? You are going to help your best friend. You are not going to stare at, or ogle, her. You will be supportive. You will do your best not to pay any attention to her legs in the uniform skirt."
Absently, as she made her way through the castle toward the Hospital Wing, Hermione lifted one hand to brush the tips of her fingers across her lips. Images from her dreams flitted across her mind and, for a moment, she imagined she could still feel smooth, silken skin under her hands. She thought she could still hear breathless gasps and whimpers. She could almost see the tiny patch of cloth covering the prize she'd sought with her lips and tongue…
She shook her head violently a moment later.
No! she snapped at herself. Harleen has enough to deal with. She doesn't need you acting like a silly, lovesick girl!
Somewhere at the back of her mind a traitorous voice whispered, but you are a lovesick girl, and she is literally the girl of your dreams.
"And the last thing Harleen needs to be dealing with right now is my issues on top of everything else she already has on her plate," she muttered under her breath as the doors to the Hospital Wing came into view ahead of her, "so shut up about it already."
No voice whispered back to her and she took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, and pushed open the doors.
Harleen was sitting up on the edge of her bed, already dressed for class and engaged in conversation with Madam Pomfrey. Both of them looked up as she entered the Wing, her friend's cheeks flushing brightly after spotting her.
"Good morning," she greeted them as she approached.
Madam Pomfrey greeted her clearly, a cheerful tone in her voice while Harleen muttered something inaudibly, her eyes directed at the floor in front of her new, black mary janes.
"Are you feeling alright, dear?" Madam Pomfrey asked, studying Harleen's flushed face carefully.
"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey, I swear. Can I go?" the girl almost pleaded, looking anywhere but at Hermione, who was left wondering just what could have come over her friend.
Madam Pomfrey eyed her warily for a moment before letting out a resigned sounding sigh, straightening up to her full height with her hands clasped in front of her. "Very well then," she said. "Remember what we talked about and I'll see you after lunch?"
Harleen nodded as she nearly shot to her feet, looking thrilled to be leaving the Hospital Wing. "Yes, Ma'am," she said. "We only have History of Magic this morning and no more classes for the rest of the day. Light day today."
"Very well. Off you go, then." The mediwitch made a shooing motion toward them with both hands and the two girls grinned, thanking the older witch as they turned and headed for the door.
"How are you feeling, Harleen?" Hermione asked a minute later as they began their walk toward the Great Hall.
Harleen blew out an irritated breath, a frown marring her features. "I'm fine!" she very nearly snapped, at which Hermione flinched slightly. Harleen sighed and reached for the other girl's hand, giving it an apologetic squeeze. "I'm sorry," she muttered contritely. "It's just… everyone keeps asking me how I'm feeling. It's driving me spare! Yes, changing hurt, but yesterday I actually felt pretty good even if I was exhausted by dinner time. Today I feel great, not sore or tired at all. So please… could you stop asking me how I'm feeling? I'm begging here."
Squeezing back after a moment, Hermione allowed herself a small smile. "I can understand how that would be bothersome," she said. "But honestly, I meant how are you feeling about what's coming? Seeing the rest of the school and dealing with our classmates and such for the first time since you changed?"
Harleen's cheeks flushed red again and she let out a small, 'oh'.
"Erm… sorry for snapping at you," she mumbled and Hermione again squeezed the hand she was still holding.
"It's okay. Like I said, I can imagine how frustrating that has to be. I'll try not to ask how you're feeling too much but you know me, I don't think I'll be able to avoid it forever."
Reluctantly, it seemed, Harleen let go of her hand, focusing on where they were going as her arm fell back to her side. "I'm not looking forward to this in the slightest," she admitted. "I can only guess how some people are going to react… wait… does the school even know about what happened to me? Professor McGonagall said she'd let our friends know…"
Hermione frowned at that, remembering her interaction with their other best friend the night before. "I'm not actually sure," she said. "Ron spoke to me briefly last night and he kept referring to you as if you were still male. None of our other house mates approached me about it when I got back yesterday, so Professor McGonagall must have told someone something, otherwise I expect I would have been hounded with questions."
"Grrrreat…" Harleen sighed, "Well, only one thing for it then."
They fell silent again, continuing their walk through the corridors. Absently, Hermione noticed that they were walking closer together than they'd been when they first left the infirmary. She hadn't even noticed them drifting towards each other and the thought entered her mind that she should probably put a bit of space between them. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to do that.
"What were you blushing about?" Hermione abruptly asked, startling the witch beside her as Harleen turned her head to look at her with wide, bright green eyes.
"What?"
"When I came into the Hospital Wing, you were blushing. Is something wrong?"
Once again, the raven haired teen's cheeks filled with color and her head snapped away from Hermione, her eyes riveted on the floor in front of them as she continued to put one foot in front of the other.
"It was nothing," she muttered.
Hermione chewed anxiously on her lower lip, studying the girl beside her carefully. She didn't want to press. She didn't want to pry or push, even though that was fairly standard operating procedure with her. She was well aware that Harleen usually didn't respond well to being pushed, and she didn't want to do anything to upset her friend. At the same time, she wanted to help.
"I… if you really don't want to talk about it, I won't push you," she finally said. "But if it'll help, I hope you know I'm always willing to listen."
Harleen fidgeted nervously for a minute, tugging lightly at the edge of her blouse. "I, uh... well.. I had a dream last night..." she finally said in such a quiet voice that Hermione almost missed it.
"W-was it another vision? Should we go see Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, gripping her friend's forearm tightly and bringing the other girl to a halt in the middle of the corridor.
Harleen's eyes widened and she shook her head. "No!" she blurted out. "No... it wasn't like that... it was just a dream. Not a vision, or-or like the dream I had the other night. It… it was about someone though..."
Hermione blinked in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned. She was dreaming about someone? I guess it might just be too much to hope that it was about me. She quickly considered her options before coming to a decision. Whatever I feel, she's my best friend and I swore to help her so…
Before she could say anything Harleen spoke again, looking around furtively for a moment before leaning in closer to whisper, "is it normal to wake up… um... drenched... down there?"
Harleen's face was as red as Hermione had ever seen it and in no time she could feel her own cheeks warming considerably as the girl's meaning became clear to her.
She had a wet dream!? "Um... it can be..." Hermione trailed off, not exactly sure how to continue, or if she wanted to. She did her best to ignore the stab of pain in her chest at the thought of her friend dreaming about some nameless person. What if it was about Neville? she thought, considering how friendly Harleen had been with the boy yesterday but then she quickly shoved that thought aside. No, Harleen told him flat out that she wasn't remotely interested in him that way.
Hermione resumed walking, letting go of Harleen's arm once the other girl fell into step with her. "Dreams," she said. "Normal dreams, at least, are frequently our unconscious mind trying to tell us something, though not always. Sometimes they're just random imaginings. Also, the uh… the… dampness you mentioned… that's the response a woman's body has to… to being aroused."
Harleen nodded but didn't say anything, a now uncomfortable silence descending over the two of them.
"So... who was this dream about?" Hermione finally dragged up the courage to ask, attempting to put a light hearted, teasing note into her voice.
Harleen's body stiffened. "W-why do you want to know?" she squeaked out.
"Well... you're Harry Potter. You're amazing, and you're my best friend. Not just anyone is going to be good enough for you," she rationalized her question. And I need to know who to quietly hate.
Harleen shook her head again, her lips pressed tightly together and Hermione poked her shoulder teasingly with one finger. "Come on," she attempted to cajole, finding herself slightly amused at her friend's behavior despite the unpleasant thoughts swirling through her head. "Tell me about this dream person. What was he like?"
Harleen's head whipped in her direction so fast that Hermione winced as the sound of several vertebrae popping reached her ears. "HE?" Harleen burst out incredulously. She gaped at Hermione for several moments before a ghastly pale pallor overcame her and she stopped walking again, physically gagging several times as if attempting to quell a sudden urge to vomit.
Once she had her gag reflex under control she started walking again, speeding past Hermione who had to rush to catch up.
"He?" the other girl muttered as they walked. "Gods no. No 'he'. Not gonna happen. No way in hell…" Harleen trailed off, muttering darkly under her breath and before Hermione could try to interject they'd reached the open doors to the Great Hall and stepped through.
"Ah, ladies, excellent timing!"
Both girls came to an abrupt halt, looking up with wide gazes toward the Head Table where Dumbledore was standing, in the midst of addressing the assembled students and visitors.
"I was just explaining to our resident students and guests about the transformation you experienced Monday evening," he said. "Please, sit and I will be finished in a moment."
The aged wizard's blue eyes twinkled merrily as he gestured toward the Gryffindor table with one hand and the two of them cautiously made their way over to the table, finding seats near the middle and across from Neville.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued once they were both seated, "Miss Potter had any and all magic on her stripped away by the Goblet of Fire when her name came out of it. She was born a girl, and had been made to appear to be male for her protection, thus when the goblet stripped away the magic placed on her she was returned to the body of her birth. I would ask you all not to pester her with questions and to give her her space. I'm sure none of us can imagine what she is dealing with and we wouldn't want to make things more difficult for her in the coming months, now would we?"
He smiled genially at the sea of faces before him though no response came and he eventually returned to his seat, the rumbling of conversation picking up as everyone returned to their breakfast. Well… those that weren't staring or craning their necks in an attempt to get a look at Harleen, at least.
Hermione frowned at all the eyes fixed on her friend, wishing, not for the first time, that there was something she could do to get them all to mind their own business.
"Let it go, Hermione," Harleen muttered beside her. "They always stare, and it's annoying as hell, but you can't stop people from staring or talking, and worrying about it will just drive you barmy."
"It's not right," she hissed back.
"No it's not, but there's nothing to be done about it but ignore them."
Hermione let out an annoyed huff but had to concede that Harleen was right, there was nothing they could do about the staring.
At least the Headmaster's warning seems to have stopped them from hounding us with questions, she thought, grateful for that much though she couldn't help but wonder just how long it would last.
As she served herself and started eating, she dimly noted Neville greeting Harleen and the two fell into a quiet conversation while they ate. Hermione's thoughts were far from the discussion taking place however.
So, she had a wet dream about someone, but was horrified by the idea of that person being male, she mused silently. Don't get ahead of yourself. She's been through a traumatic change and you don't know if she's changed mentally at all, or might still change as she adjusts.
Keep telling yourself that and you'll miss your chance, her own voice responded again. Harry was attracted to girls, you saw him making eyes at Chang and there's no reason to assume that Harleen isn't exactly the same. She's the same person, only the packaging has changed.
Hermione frowned at her mental argument. I am not going to take advantage of her right after such a dramatic change in her life. She needs time to settle in, get used to things. On top of all that there's this stupid tournament to worry abo-
Next to her, Harleen reached into an inside pocket of her robes and retrieved a tiny wooden box. She set the box on the table in front of her empty plate and enlarged it with a tap of her wand. The strange action startled Hermione out of her thoughts, her focus narrowing in on her friend. Opening the lid revealed several rows of filled potion vials and a folded piece of parchment.
"Harry!" Hermione burst out, startling the girl and causing her to drop the piece of parchment she'd been in the process of unfolding. "You said you were better!"
"What?" Harleen asked, confused. "I was, I mean I am. What's with the panic?"
Hermione scowled. "Harleen Potter! 'Better' does not include a regimen of potions like that. What's wrong with you? Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey administer those? Why would she even let you leave the Hospital Wing?"
She was well on her way to building herself up into a full panic when a hand suddenly covered her mouth and green eyes filled her vision.
"Hermione," Harleen spoke calmly. "I promise you that I am completely healed of all injuries from the other night. If you'll calm down and give me a chance to speak, I'll explain."
Sheepishly, though still worried, Hermione nodded her head and the other girl slowly pulled her hand away from her mouth. When Hermione remained silent Harleen bent down and picked up the parchment that had fallen under the table when she'd dropped it, straightening to lay it out flat on the table, smoothing away the crease with one hand.
"These potions are mostly nutrient potions. Madam Pomfrey decided that I needed some help after the years of malnutrition I suffered at the hands of my relatives."
Hermione winced, well aware that everyone within hearing distance was straining to catch every word they spoke and she suddenly wanted to kick herself for bringing it up in such a public setting.
"You don't have to-"
"It's okay," Harleen interrupted her. "It's going to end up in the Prophet eventually. Might as well just get some of it out now." She gave Hermione a shaky smile before turning her attention back to the parchment, reading the instructions that Madam Pomfrey had written out on which potions to take. From what Hermione could make out, the first potion needed to be taken on a full stomach.
"Madam Pomfrey gave me a much more thorough examination than she usually does. Most of the time she doesn't search too deep, those kinds of scans are a little… invasive and are not usually to be done without permission from a student's guardian. Augusta gave her permission. Madam Pomfrey discovered that the years without proper nutrition have stunted my growth, and done some damage to my organs and bones."
She pulled out one of the potions and popped the cork, quickly downing it with a grimace of distaste before washing it down with a goblet of water. She shuddered, shaking her head furiously for a moment before she replaced the cork and put the empty vial back in the box along with the instructions.
"The nutrient potions are because my stomach is too small," she continued with her explanation. "It shrank, basically, because I never got enough to eat. I can't just try to eat more, though I do need to slowly work on that, without possibly making myself sick. The potion is to help make sure I get enough of the nutrients I need. There's others in here to repair the damage to the rest of me. Organs and bones will recover, but unfortunately I'll never be as tall or as physically strong as I might have been able to be had I been raised well. Magic can do a lot, but it's been too many years to fix all of the damage."
Tears once again stung at Hermione's eyes and she was gripped by contrasting feelings of sorrow and rage. Sorrow for her friend, who was treated so terribly, and rage at the people that did this to her.
"Harleen… I'm so sor-"
"You don't have anything to apologize for, Hermione. I'm just going to have to get used to being short."
"You're not-"
"I'm short, Hermione," Harleen cut her off again, grinning wryly. "There's no getting around that. Remember me saying I would be lucky if I was five feet?"
Hermione nodded.
"Madam Malkin measured me when I was getting fitted yesterday. Turns out I wasn't quite as lucky as I could have been. I'm four feet eleven and a half inches tall, according to her. By the time I'm done growing, Madam Pomfrey thinks I might put on another four inches, at best. So yes, I'm short. I'm shorter than I would have been otherwise, but it's done and there's no changing it.
"The potions will help make sure I'm healthier and will help me be stronger but my height is another matter entirely. I'm not happy about it, but I can be unhappy, or I can accept it and move on. Being short isn't going to change how I live my life." She paused and quirked a grin at the girl beside her. "'Course, I might need your help getting something down from a high shelf now and again."
Hermione couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her and she suddenly leaned over, throwing her arms around Harleen's neck.
"You know how to do a summoning charm, Harleen Potter," she mumbled. "You can get your own things down from any high shelves, it's not like I'm that much taller than you are."
"Oi! I thought there wasn't a scenario that exists," Harleen teased her and Hermione snorted out another laugh.
"I'll always be there for you for the important things."
"What if I need something important from that shelf?"
"Are you a witch or aren't you?"
"Meh, fine. I'll take care of my own high shelves," Harleen muttered, smiling broadly into the wild mane of Hermione's hair as she wrapped her own arms around the other girl in a tight hug for a few moments before slowly pulling away.
Mutters were spreading their way through the Hall, and they both knew that before the end of the day the entire school would know what Harleen had said, or at least, a version of what she'd said. The rumour mill may have worked fast around Hogwarts, but that didn't mean it was always accurate, and something was bound to be lost in the retelling along the way.
Silently the two girls gathered their bags and rose to leave the Great Hall, Neville falling into step with them as the noise grew even louder in their wake.
#####
Coming back from History of Magic for lunch, Harleen headed for the Hufflepuff table, a still shocked Hermione walking beside her. She quickly settled onto the bench, doing her absolute best to ignore the whispers that were spreading and the way more and more people began staring at her. Expressions ranged from disbelief, awe, confusion, and others that she wasn't even able to identify. Truthfully, she was just glad no one at the table had started insulting or tearing into her about the tournament. Maybe they believed that she didn't actually enter her name?
"Harry?"
She lifted her head from her plate at the sound of the voice to find Cedric standing across the table from her, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other.
Hesitantly, she offered a small smile and gestured to the seat across from her. "Hey, Cedric. Sit down, it is your House table."
His lips twitching up into a small grin, he sat, placing his bag on the bench beside him and rested his elbows on the table, hands clasped together in front of his mouth as his eyes scanned over her face, making her feel just the slightest bit uncomfortable with the scrutiny. She shot a sidelong glance at Hermione beside her, but her bushy haired best friend looked out of it still, staring off into space as if she wasn't even registering the world around her. It wasn't that big a deal, seriously, she groused mentally as she turned her attention back to the Hufflepuff.
"Wow," he finally said a few moments later. "It's uncanny, really."
She quirked a brow in his direction and he flushed a moment later.
"I'm sorry. It's just… I mean we just heard this morning about your… change," he said delicately. "I was just thinking that you really don't look all that different. I mean… different, yeah, but it's pretty easy to tell that it's still you, if that makes any sense at all?"
Harleen smiled again. "It's the hair and the eyes," she said. "Pretty distinctive features really."
Cedric laughed quietly, shaking his head for a moment. "No, it's more than that. But I won't be a bother about it." A few moments later his laughing subsided and he took on a much more serious expression, causing her to sit up straighter in her seat as he appeared to be trying to pick his words before he next spoke.
"About this tournament. I want you to know that I believe you. I don't think you entered your name, and after the announcement you made the night it happened I've been doing my best to convince the rest of my House of that." He gestured with one hand in a motion that seemed to encompass the entire Hall around them. "I've heard the rumours over the years. All the adventures you and your friends have gotten into. Can't say as I know what's true and what's not, but I figure one thing is true enough out of all of it. You've never talked about it; Never taken credit, bragged, or boasted.
"Some people seem to think you're trying to steal some fame or glory for yourself, but the way I see it is you're already more famous than I'd ever be for winning this tournament, if I win. I don't see that you need any more fame or glory and from what I've seen you've always tried to stay out of the spotlight whenever possible. You've kept to a very small group of friends and you don't show off, except on the Quidditch Pitch. So I'm pretty sure you didn't put your name in or ask someone to do it for you. You just don't strike me as the type."
A wash of relief flooded over her, surprising her with the intensity of it as she hadn't quite realized just how worried she had been that people still wouldn't believe her. She'd thought she was ready to accept that people would go on as they had the last time. It was an altogether pleasant feeling to realize that she might have more people on her side than she'd ever had before.
"Thank you, Cedric. I appreciate that, and I promise you, I really didn't enter my name. I was looking forward to being a spectator and not being involved in anything dangerous or life threatening this year. But I guess the world has it in for me."
"Do they have any idea who put your name in?" he asked as he served himself a plate and started eating.
She shrugged. "Not sure. No one has said anything to me about it since that night. Madam Bones was here and offered some of her Aurors to help investigate but I don't know if anything actually came of it."
Cedric hummed wordlessly around a mouthful of food, chewing thoughtfully for a time before he swallowed and shrugged his shoulders. "We haven't seen any Aurors, or what looks like any kind of investigation. They took the goblet away after the rest of us were sent back to our dorms, and there hasn't been a word about it until this morning when Dumbledore mentioned it in relation to what happened to you."
Just as Harleen opened her mouth to say something, Hermione suddenly reached out and clamped a hand down on her forearm with enough force to make the raven haired teen wince in pain.
"You! Exorcised! Professor! Binns!"
Each word was bitten off in a shocked tone, bordering on an outraged shriek.
"I did no such thing!" Harleen insisted, struggling ineffectually to retrieve her arm. "Hermione, you're hurting me!"
The hand on her arm suddenly unclenched, releasing her and Harleen pulled her arm close to her chest amidst a slew of apologies from the girl beside her that she quickly waved away.
"I didn't exorcise Binns, I just-"
"Professor Binns!"
"Wait, Binns is gone?" Cedric interrupted.
"Yes, he's gone, but I didn't-"
"Miss Potter?"
Harleen let out a frustrated sigh, looking down at her barely touched plate before she turned to face Professor McGonagall.
"Something I can help you with, Professor?" she asked as calmly as she could.
Harleen wasn't entirely sure what to make of her Head of House's expression. She didn't seem particularly annoyed, but it wasn't always easy to tell with the stern visage she normally showed the world around her.
"The Headmaster wishes to speak with you in his office," she said, her voice carefully neutral.
"Would this have anything to do with what happened during History of Magic?"
"To my knowledge, that is entirely what this meeting is about."
"Will you be there as well?"
Professor McGonagall arched a brow at that, her expression becoming curious. "I can be."
"That would be preferable. Required, actually." Harleen thought for a moment, the fingers of her right hand taping idly against the surface of the table as she considered the situation. "I have a letter for the Headmaster from my new guardian, so that all works out rather nicely."
She grabbed her bag and stood, stopping to glance at Hermione and Cedric. "Meet me at the Hospital Wing when you're done eating?" she asked her friend.
"Of course. Is anything wrong?" Hermione asked, a worried note in her voice and shining in her eyes.
Harleen shook her head. "No, nothing's wrong. Madam Pomfrey offered some basic anatomy lessons and said that you could join us if you wanted. I'd… I'd like it, if you were there. But don't feel obligated if you have work to catch up on, or something."
Hermione waved away the concern. "You know I'm always ahead in my classes. Don't worry, I'll be there."
Harleen gave her a relieved smile then turned toward Cedric. "Think I could ask you for a small favor?"
Cedric tilted his head slightly to one said, watching her carefully. "I'd have to say that it probably depends on the favor."
"I was hoping that you might help spread the word around the school, and help me avoid having to answer the same question a hundred times. Could you let people know that my name is Harleen, but I'll still answer to Harry? I think that might help a little once people start talking to me again instead of just talking about me."
Cedric grinned and nodded his head as he straightened up in his seat. "Simple enough," he said. "I can do that and… that's a nice name, Harleen."
She flashed a quick smile, her cheeks turning slightly pink before she turned around and addressed the patiently waiting professor. "I'm ready, Professor, sorry for the wait."
"Quite alright. Come along then, Miss Potter."
Harleen fell into step with her Head of House, her mind spinning as the two of them made their way toward the tower that housed the Headmaster's Office. Neither witch spoke during the journey, each occupied by their own thoughts and, before Harleen knew it, they were standing in front of the gargoyle that served as the guardian to the office.
Professor McGonagall gave the password (ice mice) and they stepped onto the revolving staircase after the gargoyle moved aside, letting it carry them up to the corridor at the top.
"Please, come in Minerva," Dumbledore's voice came through the door at the end of the corridor, just before she could knock. Harleen swore she saw the woman roll her eyes and choked back a giggle at her obvious disdain for the old man's theatrics.
The Headmaster was sitting behind his desk, as expected. Also as expected, or at least as Harleen had expected, Snape stood leaning against one wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Hullo, Fawkes," Harleen greeted the Phoenix where he sat on his perch. Fawkes let out a welcoming trill, the pure notes filling the air with a calming atmosphere. She paused to stroke the large bird's head and neck as she passed him.
"Thank you for bringing Miss Potter, Minerva," Dumbledore spoke up. "You may return to your duties."
"I'm very sorry, Headmaster, but you are incorrect," Harleen cut in before McGonagall could say anything. "Professor McGonagall will be staying here and your Potions Master will be leaving or I will walk right back out of this office."
An absolutely stunned silence met that announcement and Harleen started counting back from five in her head. She only reached three when Snape blew his top.
"You arrogant little sh-"
"Severus!"
Snape cut off and spun to face the Headmaster, pushing off from the wall he was leaning against and dropping his arms to gesture toward Harleen with one hand.
"Albus, I have been telling you this brat has always been just as much trouble as his father was! You cannot let a student speak like that!"
"I have already explained that Miss Potter is a girl. It has all been explained to you and your insistence on using male pronouns is already wearing thin, Severus, as has this grudge you've held against her father," Dumbledore thundered back, rocking the man on his heels.
"I have also already spoken to you about your probation," Professor McGonagall snapped. "Speak to any student like that again and we will be looking for a new professor of potions on top of our apparent need for a history professor!"
Silence fell again, broken only by the sound of footsteps as Harleen walked closer to the desk and set her bag down on one of the two chairs sitting in front of it.
"I have a letter here from my guardian for you, Headmaster," she said as she started digging in her bag.
"I am still your guardian, Miss Potter."
"Again, you are incorrect. Yesterday, Madam Longbottom, as Regent of House Longbottom, accepted me under the protection of her House. She is my legal and magical guardian and after we talked yesterday during our shopping trip in Diagon Alley, she has decided to insist on some restrictions regarding who has access to me."
"I did not approve any trips outside of the school," Dumbledore tried, a frown creasing his brow.
"I did," Professor McGonagall cut in. "As Miss Potter was being escorted by her guardian it was within my ability to grant, and the poor girl was in dire need of appropriate clothing and supplies."
Harleen found the letter and pulled it out of her bag, setting it on the Headmaster's desk, rather than handing it to him directly.
"I haven't read it myself," she said. "But Madam Longbottom told me the gist of it as well as the rules to be followed. First, I am to have no meetings with you, Headmaster, without either my Head of House or my guardian present. Second, outside of class I am to have no interaction with Severus Snape, period. I will never meet with him alone and will serve no detentions with him. As Augusta put it, she said, 'I won't let you have anything to do with that goat-buggering old fool, or his pet Death Eater, if I can help it'. That is a direct quote.
"Also, any meetings with you must be directly related to my education or some other school related matter, or I was told not to attend, even with Professor McGonagall or Augusta herself present."
Finished, Harleen took a seat and spent a few moments observing the adults around her. Her Head of House appeared surprised, but her lips twitched as if she were struggling to hold back a smile. When she glanced in Harleen's direction the girl couldn't help but give her a cheeky grin and a wink, to which the professor scowled, though her eyes shone with amusement. Snape, normally very pale from spending much of his time in his windowless dungeons was edging toward a shade of puce that Harleen didn't feel was healthy in the slightest. She was also pretty sure that she could hear him grinding his teeth.
The Headmaster looked resigned, even sad, as he read through the letter, his shoulders slumped in apparent defeat. Harleen felt a small twinge of guilt but shoved it aside. The old man wasn't a bad guy, per se, but until he learned to stop trying to interfere with other people's lives, particularly her own, he couldn't be trusted as far as Harleen could throw Hagrid, without the use of magic.
"I freely admit that I have made many mistakes in regards to you, young lady," Dumbledore spoke softly. "Honest mistakes with no intended malice. Is all this truly necessary?"
Harleen said nothing and stared at a painting on the wall over the Headmaster's shoulder.
After nearly a minute of silence he sighed and set the letter down on his desk. "Severus, I believe you may return to your duties. Madam Longbottom has made her wishes clear and we will abide by them."
"What am I to do if I come across… Potter breaking school rules outside of my class?" Snape demanded.
"Bring it to my attention and I will take care of any discipline," McGonagall said, moving to stand behind Harleen's chair.
Snape growled something under his breath then stormed from the office, slamming the door behind him.
"Did Madam Bones speak with you yesterday?" Harleen asked before either Professor could say anything and Dumbledore blinked, slightly taken aback by the question.
"She did, indeed," he admitted with a rueful chuckle. "She… I believe the phrase is 'raked me over the coals', over my somewhat disingenuous answers to her questions the day before."
"Why weren't you just honest with her, Professor?" she asked, honestly curious why it was the old man seemed so insistent on consistently keeping information to himself.
"I have always worried that the more people knew about the fact that Tom was still alive, the more dangerous he would become. If more of his followers that no doubt still reside within the Ministry knew, they would probably have sought him out long before now to attempt to return him to power."
"And you think that Madam Bones, of all people, could be one of those followers? Or that she doesn't know how to compartmentalize information?"
Dumbledore hummed quietly to himself. "Perhaps… perhaps I have too long felt that I needed to handle things on my own," he admitted slowly.
Harleen said nothing further, happy with the seed she'd planted and waited for the Headmaster to move on.
"Well," Dumbledore finally began, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded atop his beard. "Miss Potter, I was wondering if you might explain what happened in class today?"
Harleen started slightly, having almost forgotten the reason she'd originally been called into the office to begin with.
"I'd like to point out that I did not exorcise Professor Binns," she stated as clearly as she could. "I wouldn't even know how to go about trying."
"No one is accusing you of anything, nor are you in any trouble," Dumbledore assured her. "I simply wish to understand the events that took place, nothing more."
Nodding, her brow furrowed in thought as she considered the lesson that had taken place earlier that day before she slowly started speaking. "Most of the class was asleep," she said. "A lot of students tend to look at Binns' class as scheduled nap time since he was always so dull. Toward the end of class I was curious and I raised my hand and asked if he had ever considered retiring. I mean, I learn more from reading the book than I did in any of his classes really, and he just teaches the same things over and over, I figure that's got to get boring, even for him.
"He seemed surprised at first, called me Miss Jameson for some reason, then said he intended to teach here until the day he died." Harleen shrugged, "I didn't mean for anything to happen, but I pointed out to him that he was already dead. He was really startled to hear that and looked down at himself for a minute and then… he just sort of faded away."
She fell silent and shrugged again, not entirely sure what else to say. Reaper had told her to get rid of Binns, but she never guessed it would have been that easy, nor had she even been trying at the time.
If only it was that simple to get rid of Snape, or Voldemort, she thought.
"Thank you for telling me, Miss Potter. As I said, you are not in any trouble, however it appears that I must find a replacement professor. Thank you for your time."
Recognizing a dismissal when she heard it, Harleen nodded and stood, grabbing her bag and slinging it over one shoulder as she turned to follow her Head of House out of the room. At the door she paused, hesitating for a few seconds before she let out a long sigh.
"Headmaster?" she called, her back still to the room.
"Miss Potter?"
"I want to work with you," she said. "I want to be able to trust you, but you've made too many mistakes, and spent too much time focusing on controlling my life. You've stopped seeing people and instead see only the bigger picture, not how it affects the individuals. There's a war coming, Headmaster. You know it as well as I do. It's been coming for a long time, and I think we both know that I'm going to be a key player in this war.
"Your vaunted 'Greater Good' will see people dying. A lot of people. Good people. People that don't deserve it. If you can prove to me that you've stopped looking at people like disposable chess pieces, stop trying to save the enemy by sacrificing your allies, I think that we could have a lot to teach each other, and I think we'd have a better chance, working together, of ending things with the least possible loss of life than if we remain at odds."
Dumbledore was silent for a time while Professor McGonagall was giving her a searching look but she ignored her professor, instead keeping her focus on the room behind her.
"How am I to prove such a thing to you, Miss Potter?" she finally heard him say in a weary tone and she couldn't help the small smirk that twisted her lips.
"You're Albus Dumbledore," she said. "I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out."
With that, she let go of the door she'd been holding open and started walking down the stairs as it swung closed behind her with a soft, but still audible, click.
