Author's notes: All right, gang. This is the last pre-written chapter that I have finished. Apologies for that but things have just been difficult and I haven't made quite as much headway on chapter 09 as I'd have liked, much less anything else though I AM still working on all my other stories so don't worry that things won't be completed. They're just slowing down, as unfortunate as that is.

I'd like to make a couple clarifications for the sake of this story before moving forward. For the purposes of this piece of fiction, we're assuming that canon material happened exactly as it did in the books with a few exceptions. First, Harry kissing Hermione during their dance in the tent, which I know was movie version and not book version but I love that scene so it's there. Also, when Ron left during the hunt, he never came back and no, we don't know why. As far as everything else, Harry and Hermione carried on without Ron and things happened just the same. Dobby took them to Shell Cottage just as he was getting hit with Bellatrix's knife.

The other big difference from Canon… Harleen does not know that she is a Horcrux. In the shrieking shack, they heard Snape say that he was a spy for the light and never really worked for Voldemort, but he died before he was able to give up the memories that told Harry he was a horcrux, so Harleen has no idea at this point in time.

Moving on, some funny parts in this chapter as well as some introspection and growth, I feel. Hope you all like it.

Diclaimer: I own nothing.

Here be Chapter 08 of A Fair Life

A Fair Life

Of Struggles and Foxes

by,

Rtnwriter

Slowly, the door to Madam Pomfrey's office opened, letting two figures exit the room into the open ward of the Hospital Wing. One of the two appeared… distraught, her raven black hair a sharp contrast to the pasty pallor of her skin. She had an expression on her face that passably resembled abject horror mixed with disgust. Beside her, the second figure was completely oblivious to her companion's discomfort, busily shuffling through several sheaves of parchment and occasionally pausing to make a note with the self-inking quill that she had tucked behind her ear.

"Thank you for inviting me to sit in, Harleen," the more studious of the two figures spoke, her eyes still focused on the stack of parchment in her hands. "I knew quite a bit of the basic anatomy actually, since my parents are both medical professionals and they insisted that I have a decent grounding after first year, however, I didn't realize that there were so many things that were different because I'm a witch. Our magic really does make a difference in how our bodies process things. That was really fascinating and should be very helpful information as well."

Harleen turned toward her best friend, the look of horror on her face morphing into dumbfounded shock. Her mouth opened, moving up and down silently several times before snapping closed with an audible clack of her teeth. Less than a second later she turned, hair flying wildly about her with the motion of her body as she practically fled from the Hospital Wing as fast as her feet could carry her without actually breaking into a run.

She heard Hermione call out to her but she simply shouted back, "I'm fine!" and kept going. Pushing her way through the heavy doors and out into the corridors, moving as rapidly as she could lower into the large castle. Try as she might, as she walked, she couldn't help but think over the 'lesson' she'd just been subjected to.

Labia majora and minora, mons pubis, cli-

She shook her head, striving to dispel those thoughts. There were some things she just didn't want to know, and if her brain continued on that topic it would naturally move from the, theoretically, fun parts of her body and into the less entertaining. Madam Pomfrey had been very thorough in her discussion of menstruation and everything else that went with being female that she realized most guys were happy not to know.

Wish I could forget most of it too.

She looked up when she realized there was grass under her shoes and noticed that she'd somehow managed to walk all the way down to the Quidditch Pitch without even noticing where she was going. For half a moment she considered summoning her broom from the castle but a few things stopped her.

One, it was locked in the new lady's trunk that Madam Longbottom had purchased for her, and two, she didn't know if a window was open in whichever dorm room her trunk now resided. Last thing she wanted to do was break a window and possibly her prized broom.

The other thing that stopped her was the touch of the cool breeze against her bare legs beneath the hem of her skirt. She scowled down at the item, idly noting that she'd almost forgotten she was wearing the cursed thing until that moment. She really wasn't sure how to go about riding a broom while dressed in a skirt.

This is just part of why I wanted my slacks, she grumbled internally, making her way over to one of the team benches that ran near the edge of the pitch to sink onto it dejectedly. She wasn't alone for long when the sound of footsteps rustling the grass and a voice, raised to carry, reached her ears.

"You probably don't want to sit like that anymore, Harry."

She lifted her head from where she'd been staring at the grass between her shoes to find the trio of girls most commonly referred to around the school as the Flying Foxes of Gryffindor approaching her, all three of them with a broom in hand and dressed in their Quidditch leathers, minus the robes. She cocked her head slightly to one side as she thought over what Angelina had just said to her before looking back down. She was sitting on the bench, her knees spread and feet planted at least shoulder width apart with her elbows resting on her thighs, her upturned hands supporting her chin.

She let out a squeak when it clicked that the girls walking toward her had a clear view up her skirt and she sat up, almost slamming her legs together and smoothing the skirt down over her knees with her hands, a bright flush staining her cheeks once again.

The girls smiled, unable to hold back though she was grateful that none of them laughed. Rather unceremoniously Angelina dropped onto the bench beside her, nudging her gently with one elbow.

"I get that you used to sit that way a lot as a boy, but you've got to keep in mind how you're dressed as a girl. Can't sit that way unless you're in trousers, not unless you want to give anyone happening by a free show. Cute knickers, by the way." She added the last sentence with a teasing smile on her lips.

Harleen groaned and buried her face in her hands. Another body dropped onto the bench on her other side and she peeked out of the corner of her eye to find Alicia sitting beside her, with Katie still standing in front of them, leaning slightly on her broom.

"So, is this the first round of interrogations from Gryffindor?" Harleen asked, warily and the three girls shared a look before turning their attention back to her.

"We can't say we're not curious, Harry," Katie admitted, almost sheepishly.

Beside her, it was Alicia's turn to nudge her with an elbow. "Bar anything else though, you're a friend and a teammate. We're not here to interrogate you, though we'll be happy to listen to anything you might want to say. Honestly, we saw you walk by in the entrance hall about twenty minutes ago, and you looked upset. We figured we'd come see if you needed any cheering up, maybe go for a fly? That always seems to help you when you're down about something."

Harleen blinked, sitting up straighter and focusing her attention on the sixth year.

"How would you know that?"

"We're not blind, Harry," Katie told her. "You've… well honestly the three of us have kind of looked at you something like a little brother the last few years. You were so timid and shy when you joined the team. We didn't want to overwhelm you but we've been keeping an eye on you a bit and we always noticed how peaceful and calm you look in the air."

"When you're not manic and crazy," Angelina added in, to which the other two chasers laughed quietly.

"Yeah, you're a lunatic on a broom, Potter."

While the girls shared a laugh, Harleen was openly gaping at them. She had no idea they'd paid that kind of attention to her in the past, not even in the last timeline had she ever known that and she suddenly found herself blinking back tears, something she felt was happening with far too much regularity over the last couple of days.

"You want to fly? We'll fly," Angelina murmured quietly to her, slipping one arm around Harleen's shoulders in a sort of half hug. "You want to talk about whatever was bothering you? We'll listen. We'll offer advice, if you want it, or we'll just let you vent, if that's what you'd prefer."

"You don't care that… I mean that I'm…" Harleen trailed off, unable to properly articulate what she wanted to say, or perhaps simply scared to.

"Can't say that we understand what's happened to you, Harry. I'm not sure I'd have the slightest clue how to even try. But in the end, you're still Harry Potter, aren't you?" Katie asked, moving closer and leaning down until the two were eye to eye. "You're still you. You're still a part of our team and you're still a Gryffindor. Not everyone is going to treat you the same, but you should know that we've got your back, no matter what."

Slightly awed, Harleen could only stammer out a quiet 'thanks'.

"So, did you want to talk about whatever had you in such a state?" Katie asked, sitting on the grass and leaning back against Alicia's legs.

Harleen groaned again and slumped in her seat between the two sixth year girls on either side of her. Her first instinct was to say she was fine, as she always did, but she managed to stop herself and considered the situation carefully for a moment. Reaper told you you can't pull the lone hero shit anymore, she reminded herself. This isn't exactly the same but… would it really hurt to open up a little? I am supposed to be working on my friendships and gods I hate thinking about that like it's a mission I have to complete. Why can't I make friends just to be friends with someone?

Almost immediately the answer came to her. Because you're Harry Potter.

"I'm just… having trouble, I guess," she finally admitted.

"How so?"

She shrugged at Angelina's question.

"I…" She sighed and leaned slightly into the taller girl whose arm was still wrapped around her shoulders. "I'm not sure I'm doing a very good job at this whole 'being a girl' thing," she muttered.

The chasers glanced at each other again, Katie tilting her head back to look upside down at Alicia behind her before turning back to Harleen.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"It's just all so much!" she burst out. "I mean, the last couple of days have just been one crazy ride of ups and downs. I feel like I'm losing my mind half the time. Madam Pomfrey had to give me a basic anatomy lesson earlier since I know next to nothing about how girls' bodies are different from boys. I was beyond disgusted at the whole idea of having a period and everything else and… gods, I just feel like I'm never going to get the hang of this.

"This is who I am. This is what I am. But I didn't grow up with it and I can't see me ever really getting used to everything that goes with it. I feel right in this skin, but I noticed today some things are weird and I'm not sure why. I'm pretty sure I'm going to drive Hermione away because I keep having to ask her questions about things I don't understand that turn out to be really embarrassing or personal and I… I just… it just feels like it's too much to deal with. I didn't think it was going to be easy but why does it feel even harder than I expected it to be?"

By the time she finished Alicia had wrapped an arm around her as well, opposite Angelina and Katie had turned in her spot on the grass, the three girls each giving her their undivided attention as she vented the thoughts that had been churning at the back of her mind all day.

"That's a lot to have to deal with, no question about that," Angelina told her softly. "Did you want some advice?"

Harleen shrugged listlessly. "Don't know what advice you could offer, but sure, why not?"

"Rule number one: Don't sweat the small stuff," Angelina said, grinning at her when Harleen turned a startled look in her direction before spinning to Alicia when the other girl spoke up.

"Rule number two: It's all small stuff."

"Wha?"

"Harry, you've been back to being a girl… what not even two full days yet?" Katie cut in causing Harleen to nod her head silently. "Seriously… give yourself some time! You're not going to adjust to everything overnight. If you get bent out of shape over every little thing that you're figuring out you'll just make yourself sick. You should give yourself some credit too, for not completely freaking out in the first place. Hell, I think I'd have a nervous breakdown if I woke up tomorrow and found out I'd been born a boy and was suddenly switched back to being that." Katie shuddered, somewhat theatrically, but the discomfort she felt at the idea was real.

"You'll learn as you go. It might take a few months or longer even, but eventually, one day you'll realize you've got a handle on everything. It'll become routine and you'll be more comfortable in your skin," Angelina offered.

"We'll help too," Katie chirped. "What's weird?"

Harleen blinked in surprise. "Wait, what?"

"You said you noticed some things were weird. What were they? Maybe we can help?"

Harleen thought about the offer for a moment before shrugging again. What the hell, you've come this far.

"Well… my balance feels off and walking feels different too. My hips and my lower back are sore and I'm not really certain why. I haven't done anything today that should make me sore."

Angelina had a thoughtful look on her face. "I think I might have a guess why your balance feels off and why your back is sore."

"Really?" Harleen asked, surprised. "That's kind of quick."

"The reasons are fairly obvious," the older witch spoke in a wry tone. "First, and sorry to say it, but you're shorter than you were a couple days ago, your center of gravity is different. Plus… well, you're a bit more top heavy than you used to be."

"Top he-" Harleen broke off and looked down at her chest, flushing brightly a few seconds later.

Katie burst out giggling while Alicia swatted the top of her head. "Most girls breasts develop over time and their bodies have time to get used to it, toning the muscles that help support the upper body gradually as they grow. You literally changed pretty much instantly and your body just isn't used to having that extra weight you're carrying around."

"Seriously, how big are those things anyway?" Katie snorted. "Ow!" She rubbed the top of her head where Alicia had just smacked her again.

"Ignore her, Harry, she's a child."

"They're not that big," Harleen muttered, self-consciously crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'd guess you're in the C range," Angelina muttered, looking thoughtfully at her. "About the same size as Hermione actually."

"So?"

"Well, for a girl with Hermione's height and build her breasts are pretty much in proportion with her frame. You're smaller than she is, yet your chest is probably about the same size, so on your frame they look a lot bigger than they actually are."

"You know, I haven't been looking forward to the idea that I'm sure I'll catch some bloke staring at my chest at some point," Harleen muttered. "Am I really gonna have to worry about you girls staring too?"

The three of them laughed again before Katie leered at her in a comically exaggerated fashion. "Well, you are fairly delicious looking as a girl, Harry, but I can honestly tell you that you're safe from me. I'm not interested in girls beyond being friends."

"On a serious note though," Alicia cut in, "How did you get so lucky?"

Harleen stared at her blankly.

"I'm not kidding. As a boy you were an adorable cutie, Harry, but girl you? Damn, you're hot!"

"Alright, let's stop embarrassing her," Angelina intervened after Harleen's face was nearly as red as her Gryffindor tie. "Getting back to why I brought up your… shape. I'm pretty sure the rapid change is why your back is aching, your body just hasn't had time to get used to the different way it carries your weight. It'll get better in time, and in between now and then I've got a cream in my locker that helps with sore muscles that I can give you."

Harleen nodded thoughtfully, grateful for something else to focus on as she considered Angelina's argument. It made sense and she couldn't think of any other possible explanation other than her body as a girl was weaker than the one she'd had as a boy. Logically she understood that women tended to be less physically strong than men, but she'd have thought that her level of fitness would carry over. It was still her body, after all.

"Okay, that explains my back, what about my hips?"

"I've got a theory on that one," Katie spoke up, raising her hand and grinning cheerfully. "I'll need to see you walk first before I can confirm it."

"Walk?"

"Yes, walk." Katie stood and grabbed Harleen's hand, pulling the smaller girl to her feet despite groans and protests. "Just walk down about twenty feet, turn around, and come back. Don't think about it, just walk as if you're going somewhere."

"Well I am going somewhere, aren't I? I'm going exactly nowhere."

"No arguing, get to walking, woman!"

Sighing and rolling her eyes Harleen walked a ways down the side of the pitch before she turned and walked back. "I feel stupid," she complained as she reached the three older girls again. "Tell me I don't have to do that again?"

Katie smiled. "You don't have to do that again," she said. "And I do believe that I've figured out what your problem is."

"You have?" Harleen couldn't help but be surprised.

"Yup. It's how you're walking that's causing the pain in your hips."

Harleen frowned. "What do you mean how I'm walking. I'm just walking, not doing anything special."

"I think I see what you mean, Katie," Alicia jumped in, nodding her head with her arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed in Harleen's direction. "She's walking like a boy."

Harleen threw her hands up into the air in exasperation. "What are you talking about? I don't walk like anything, I just walk."

"We're helping you, Harry, I promise," Katie told her. "Just bear with us for a moment, okay?"

Harleen huffed and sat back down on the bench, crossing her arms but grudgingly decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. "I'm hoping this is all going to make sense soon?"

"In just a few seconds. Angie, you want to walk it?"

Angelina nodded, unfolding her tall, willowy frame from the bench as she stood. "Yeah, I think I know what we're looking for." She moved a few steps away before turning back to Harleen.

"Alright, Harry, I'm going to repeat what you did but I want you to watch my arse while I'm walking."

Harleen jerked in surprise, her eyes growing wide. "W-what?" she stammered.

"It's important," Angelina insisted.

Harleen thought that was taking things a step too far. The girls didn't know that she…

"I don't think that's a good idea," she argued. "Can't you just explain this to me?"

"A demonstration makes it much easier to explain what we're talking about," Katie answered.

They don't know.

"No, that's okay." Harleen shook her head and stood to leave. "Don't worry about it."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Angelina asked, moving over to place her hands on her shoulders, holding the younger witch at arms length and carefully studying her face. "What are you upset about?"

Harleen couldn't meet the other girl's eyes. "I-I just don't think you really want me… um… you really don't want me staring at your…"

"Harry?"

Harleen stuttered to a stop and meekly looked up at Alicia who had come up to stand next to Angelina as Katie stepped up on the girls other side.

"Harry, we know that you're attracted to girls."

Harleen blinked several times, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

"W-wh-wha… how did you, I mean-"

"Harry it's okay," Katie said in a soothing voice. "I already told you, we're not blind. We've kept an eye on you and it's been pretty clear the few times we've noticed you checking out one girl or another. Your body may have changed but you're still you. I seriously doubt your preferences have changed just because your shape is different."

Harleen's mouth worked soundlessly several times before she was able to find her voice. "A-and you don't… you're not upset?"

Angelina shrugged. "Hey, you were always respectful in checking some girl out, even the few times we noticed you looking at one of us. Without being conceited, we're aware that we're fairly pretty, so we're kind of used to it. You'd check one us out now and again, but you never stared outright, or made us feel uncomfortable. Right now this isn't about you checking out my arse, there's an actual point that we're trying to show you so you need to watch me if you want to understand what we're talking about."

Harleen actually snorted out a laugh as one of the most beautiful girls in the entire school described the three of them as 'fairly pretty' before she managed to compose herself and give them a small smile.

"Okay," she said. "Well, if you're sure, go ahead."

Angelina flashed her a grin and gently pushed her back onto the bench before she turned and stepped away again. Katie and Alicia sat on either side of her.

"Now, watch the arse, Harry," Angelina said, giving her a wink over her shoulder even as she wiggled her bum in Harleen's direction.

"I'm beginning to think this whole thing is just an excuse for you to show off what a nice arse you've got," Harleen remarked in a dry tone, sending the three chasers off into fits of laughter.

"Focus, Harry."

Angelina started walking away from them across the pitch and Harleen paid careful attention to her teammate as the girl moved further away. She did her best not to think about how good Angelina looked in the leather Quidditch trousers while she was at it.

A moment later she blinked and straightened up in her spot on the bench.

"Wait, what was that?" she asked, her gaze fixed on where Angelina had just stopped and turned around to look at them.

"Did you see it?" Katie asked and Harleen slowly shook her head.

"I saw… something," she admitted, "but I'm not exactly sure what."

While Angelina was walking away from them, there had been a sudden shift in the motion of her body. Something that Harleen couldn't quite put her finger on but the older witch's hips had suddenly started swinging slightly from side to side as her body moved in a more fluid manner than it had been at first.

"Come on back Angie, she didn't quite catch it," Katie called and then turned her attention to Harleen. "Watch her feet this time while she's walking."

Obediently, Harleen's gaze drifted lower as Angelina started walking again. With each step, her foot would swing straight out in line with her shoulders, her toes pointing slightly outward, body moving side to side as she walked, feet striking the ground heavily. Half way back to the bench her stride suddenly changed. Her feet stopped moving straight outward and instead moved more toward the center of her body, each step landing almost directly in front of the one before it, toes pointing more inward with her legs closer together. With each step her hips swayed from side to side and her foot landed far more lightly on the ground.

"Okay, what was all that about?" Harleen asked when Angelina stopped in front of them.

"It's simple, and probably something your body would adjust more toward naturally over time, but right now you're so used to instinctively doing things a certain way that you're still doing it without even realizing it," Angelina started the explanation, dropping to sit cross legged on the grass in front of her.

"Men and women walk differently," Katie picked up the thread. "Men tend to walk with their legs and feet further apart, more straight out from the shoulder. Women tend to walk with our legs closer together. Women have wider hips than men do and our pelvic bones are actually shaped differently than a man's."

"When women walk, I'm sure you've noticed that there's a slight back and forth sway in the hips, right?" Alicia asked, drawing Harleen's attention to her.

"Well… yeah, I guess."

"That's not entirely an affectation that women put on, though I'm sure many will intentionally add a little extra swing in their hips if they know someone they like is looking at them. It's just a part of a natural gait for most women. Women tend to walk more lightly than men do as well. Men kind of plod along when they walk. Are your ankles and calves sore as well?"

Harleen blinked, thinking about Katie's question for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, actually. I hadn't really thought about it."

"When you walked for us earlier you were walking like a man. Your legs were far apart and your feet hit the ground kind of hard as you walked. My guess is that your body wants you to move a certain way, with your hips being wider and your pelvis shaped differently than it was the other day, but again, you're so used to walking the way you always have that you're just doing it without thinking and that's causing the strain in your muscles."

Harleen sighed and slumped in her seat again. "You know you're not making this whole thing any less overwhelming than it was before," she noted. "Now I've got to consider how I'm walking on top of everything else?"

"I really think it's something you'll adjust to naturally as time goes on," Angelina said. "You move the way you do because that's the way your body was designed before now. You've got more than a decade of being a guy that's ingrained habits and mannerisms that aren't going to just disappear overnight. The longer you spend with this body the more natural it'll all feel."

"So… don't worry about it?"

"Well, you could try to concentrate on changing your stride, but focus too much on it and you'll just be giving yourself something new to worry about. Maybe when we head back into the castle purposely try walking with your legs and feet closer in, then focus on something else. I'm pretty sure that eventually your body will adjust all on its own."

Silence fell over for the four of them for a time. Harleen found it interesting that it wasn't an uncomfortable silence at all. She actually felt closer to and more grateful for the three older girls than she ever had, and in the back of her mind she started considering ways to let them know how much she appreciated the effort they'd gone to to reassure her and make her feel welcome.

"You know you don't have to call me Harry, right?" she suddenly said, causing the three of them to exchange a bewildered look before turning their attention back to her.

"What do you mean?" Alicia asked.

"I asked Cedric in Hufflepuff to spread the word, but I guess it hasn't got around the whole school yet. My name's Harleen."

"Yeah, we heard that. We also heard that you were okay with being called Harry still," Katie pointed out and Harleen shrugged.

"I am, I just… I don't know what I thought, I guess I just expected more people to use my actual name."

"We'll call you Harleen if you'd prefer it. We just figured that with everything that's changed you might appreciate a little something normal like us calling you Harry like we always have."

Harleen stared at Angelina for a moment after that statement, not entirely certain what she was feeling but sure that it was nearly overwhelming, whatever it was. A small smile turned up the corner of her lips.

"Thanks," she murmured quietly. "I… I hadn't even thought about it. Call me Harleen if you want, but you're right, Harry will do."

"What if we combined them and called you Harley?" Katie asked, grinning at her as Harleen blanched.

"Oh gods, whatever you do, please don't do that," she laughed, her face twisting into a disgusted expression that had all three of them giggling at her.

"Come on," Angelina said, climbing to her feet and moving over to pick up her broom. "We're out at the Quidditch Pitch, you should get in some flying."

"I don't have my broom, and I'm pretty certain it'd be a bad idea to try and fly in this," Harleen sighed, glaring down at the skirt that covered her thighs.

Alicia let out a snort. "Do you honestly think Professor McGonagall wouldn't have gotten you a new uniform?" she asked.

"Wait, she what?" Harleen gaped, looking up at the girls who were now all standing with a broom in hand.

"She contacted Madam Malkin yesterday and had a new uniform made for you to your new measurements. It's in your locker in the changing rooms and," Katie paused, drawing out her explanation with a teasing grin until Harleen thought she might shake the other girl, "we brought an extra broom. We put that in your locker with your new kit. It's not your Firebolt, but it'll do for right now."

"Go on and change," Angelina said, grabbing Harleen's hand and hauling her to her feet. "We'll wait here."

Grinning excitedly, all worries and concerns suddenly vanished from her mind, Harleen lunged forward and wrapped the taller girl in a grateful hug before she turned and sprinted across the pitch toward the locker rooms. Just before she reached the door she suddenly shifted direction as a voice called out behind her, "your locker is on the girls' side now, Harry!"

#####

There has got to be some rule or law being broken here, Hermione thought as she sat, frozen on the sofa near the fireplace, her favorite spot in the whole of Gryffindor Tower. No way in hell is that not indecent.

Five minutes previously, Harleen and the Flying Foxes had walked into the Tower, laughing and talking cheerfully with each other, brooms slung over their shoulders and each of them dressed in their team uniforms but without the over robes that were a part of it. Harleen had waved at her, smiling brightly, but walked across the Common Room, still talking to the other girls and Hermione couldn't help but feel her eyes drawn to the way the leather trousers hugged her friend's body, showing off the new curves she'd acquired that were doing terrible things to Hermione's heart rate.

It's not fair, she let herself whine within the privacy of her own thoughts, her eyes still following her friend's swaying bum as she stood and spoke with the Foxes on the other side of the room. I'm trying to be a good friend here. I'm trying to give her time and let her adjust and then she comes in here looking like that! Doesn't she realize a girl only has so much self control?!

Suppressing the urge to groan or hit her head against the table in front of her, Hermione tried to focus on her notes and her classwork. After Harleen had run off earlier she'd been worried, but a few seconds thought reminded her that their lesson had probably been somewhat traumatizing for the recently transformed girl that was her best friend. She hadn't helped the situation either, being her usual swotty self, so she'd decided to give Harleen some space to let her come to terms with things on her own.

It hadn't been an easy decision to make in the slightest, and in execution it was even harder as every part of her was screaming at her to find her friend and comfort her, but she'd done it, and it looked like Harleen had found something to cheer her up. Smiling softly to herself Hermione looked across the room to see the girl she'd just been thinking of walking toward her. She frowned slightly as something seemed different about her best friend, but she couldn't quite tell what it was.

"Everything okay?" Harleen asked as she dropped into an armchair near her, a concerned expression on her face.

Hermione sat up, banishing the frown and offering up a small smile. "Yes, everything is fine," she said. "Just… something seems different about you and I was trying to figure out what it was."

Harleen looked confused but shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she said. "Let me know if you figure it out?"

Hermione nodded, setting her quill down and turning slightly in her seat to focus more fully on her friend.

"I'm sorry I took off like I did earlier. I was… I was just a little overwhelmed by everything."

"That's fine, I should have considered how difficult that would have been for you."

"Hermione," Harleen sighed in an exasperated tone. "You know you really can take too much on yourself. You can't honestly expect that you'll be able to predict or anticipate everything. I didn't even realize how overwhelming the whole thing was likely to be. I thought it'd just be slightly embarrassing but… Merlin's beard, women really got the fuzzy end of the biological lollipop when humans evolved, didn't we?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open for a second. "Fuzzy end of…" She couldn't finish the sentence before she suddenly burst out laughing.

"Well what would you call it?" Harleen asked over Hermione's laughter. "Women have to go through a pretty unpleasant and uncomfortable experience once a month. We're not as strong as men are physically. There's all these rules to follow just to use the toilet! I mean seriously, guys have it easy in comparison."

"Brother dear, I do believe my ears are playing tricks on me."

Harleen groaned and Hermione struggled to reign in her laughter as they both turned toward an approaching, grinning pair of red heads.

"If yours are, then mine are too," said the twin on the right. "I could swear to have heard a sound I never thought to hear." His tone of voice was awed, almost reverent.

"The laughter of the beauteous Miss Hermione Granger?" chimed in the twin on the left.

"The very same! O she of the righteous quill and stern external veneer! Very much like our Head of House."

"You know McGonagall secretly loves us, Fred."

"Oi! I thought you were Fred!"

"No, you're Fred and I'm George."

The twin on the right looked unconvinced. "Are you sure? I'm positive the schedule said that you were Fred every Tuesday, Thursday, and opposite Friday."

"Fred?"

"Yes, Fred?"

"It's Wednesday."

"Oh… well I guess I am Fred."

"Boys," Harleen managed to interject between their byplay and her own laughter at their antics, "as entertaining as you are, is there a reason you came over?"

Both twins suddenly stood very straight, eyeing Harleen distrustfully and Hermione found any trace of mirth wiped away in sudden concern. For a moment she had forgotten that they still weren't entirely certain what the rest of their House, or the school, thought about her entrance into the tournament.

"There she is, Fred," said the twin on the left, George, if the two could be believed.

"The deceiver."

"The charlatan."

"The wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Shouldn't she be a wolf in lion's clothing?"

"But then we would suspect her of being dangerous, not this lovely, but conniving vixen we have before us."

"Ah, vixen, a term for a female fox, as in, as clever as a fox?"

"Precisely."

"What are you two on about now?" Harleen cut in again, an irritated look on her face as the boys turned back to her from where they'd been debating with each other.

Suddenly both of them leaped a step back, pointing an accusing finger at her. "We know your game, Miss Potter!" Fred exclaimed.

"Pretending to be a bloke all these years."

"Trying to learn the secrets of the Brotherhood."

"Nay, foul wench! We stand before you to declare that no woman shall ever unravel the secrets of men."

"We shall protect our brothers, wherever they may be. Women have tried for eons to understand the male of our species and we shall stand firm and deny our secrets from ever being repeated upon witches' ears!"

"Uh… guys?" Harleen almost hesitantly spoke up.

"Yes, Harry?"

"You do know that I really was male, transfigured against my will, but still, for more than ten years?"

"A clever ruse!"

"I lived in a dorm with four other blokes for three years," she cut in in a dry, deadpan tone of voice. "Trust me. Men have no secrets. You're simple creatures."

Again the twins jumped back, now with exaggerated expressions of horror on their faces. "Merlin's saggy y-fronts! She's figured us out!"

They suddenly dropped to their knees, crawling forward toward Harleen with their hands clasped in front of them in supplication. "Please, dear beautiful one. We beg of you. Please do not tell of our weakness to the women of the world."

"Truly, if they knew, we men would be naught but puppets to dance to their tune. Let us have the illusion of being remotely equal to your blinding radiance, oh Goddess of Lions."

Fred straightened up from where the two had prostrated themselves on the floor in front of a giggling Harleen and looked at his brother. "Goddess of Lions?" he asked. "That's a good one."

"Thanks. I was inspired."

"Think we've hammed it up enough?"

George, still prostrate next to his brother also straightened, a thoughtful expression on his face as he rubbed his chin with one hand for a few moments before nodding his head. "Yeah, I think so."

With that they jumped to their feet and turned, bowing theatrically to a laughing Common Room full of students.

"Thank you! Thank you! We'll be here all week!"

"Oi! We'll be here the rest of the school year or mum will skin us alive!"

By the time they turned back around Hermione had gotten to her own feet and pulled the two jokers into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around either twin.

"And that is why you two are my favorite Weasleys," she murmured softly

"You heard it, Harry-"

"- we're her favorites!"

She pulled back and glared up at them. "Don't make me regret that," she admonished sternly.

The two stepped back and snapped off a salute to her. "Never, dear Lady."

One of the two boys, George, Hermione thought, stepped forward and picked up the broom Harleen had leaned against the side of her chair.

"How'd she treat you?" he asked her as he slung the broom over his shoulder.

"Well she's not my Firebolt, but for a Cleansweep Seven she handled great and I was still able to get plenty of acceleration in a dive. Thanks for letting the girls borrow it."

"Our Chasers informed us that our-"

"-Seeker needed a little air time," the two said with a shrug.

"No way we weren't-

"-going to help out. You're an honorary-"

"-Weasley, Harry. We've always wanted another little sister."

Harleen was grinning broadly for a few moments before her expression twisted into a frown. "Hold up," she muttered. "You're not gonna start treating me like you do Ginny, are you?"

"However do you mean?" they asked in unison, wide eyed expressions of innocence etched onto their freckled faces.

"You know, threatening anyone that gets too friendly. Attempting to test your prank items… you're afraid of Ginny and her Bat-Bogey Hex… don't forget I'm the top student in Defense in our year. I know a lot more curses and hexes than Ginny does, and I'm not afraid to hit you where it hurts."

The twins paled, exchanging a silent look between the two of them before they threw themselves on the ground at Harleen's feet again, loudly begging forgiveness and crying for leniency.

Laughing again, she reached down and grabbed them by their collars, yanking on them in order to urge them to their feet. "Oh, get up, you idiots. Don't give me a reason and I won't have to hurt you. Deal?"

"Deal!" they cried in unison, leaping to their feet as if nothing at all had happened. "We're off to cause chaos elsewhere," they chirped before they spun around, one twin ducking the broom the other still had across his shoulder before it could strike him in the back of the head, and marched their way across the Common Room, joining the three Chasers who were in the process of wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. When they looked up and saw the twins approaching, all three burst out laughing once again.

#####

After the twins departed, Harleen spent a few more minutes chatting with Hermione before she decided to run up to her new dorm to change and take a quick shower before dinner. She'd noticed more than a few eyes following her progress and a fresh wave of hushed conversation spread throughout the room when she'd reached the top of the stairs without having them turn into a slide underneath her. To be fair, she couldn't entirely blame them. Even she had been slightly apprehensive just before her foot landed on the bottom step.

The dorm itself had been a strange mixture of surprise and exactly what she'd expected at the same time. She was surprised to find that the dorm looked almost exactly like the boy's dorm, save for the fact that each bed had a vanity with a mirror situated directly across from it against the far wall. As to what she'd expected… well, it was a bit neater than the dorm she'd been in before, and it definitely smelled better.

She quickly shimmied her way out of her Quidditch clothes next to the bed she identified as belonging to her and laid them across the foot of the bed. Dressed only in her bra and knickers, she opened the second compartment of her new trunk to face the results of a promise she had decided to make to herself.

Neville's Gran had gone to a not inconsiderable expense to provide a proper wardrobe for her, something she had never had before, and she was determined not to waste what she'd been given. The School Charter required all students to be in their proper uniform during class hours. Since she had no further classes that day she decided she was going to avail herself of her new wardrobe.

Once faced with the assortment of items tucked neatly into the wardrobe compartment of her trunk, however, she realized that she had a few immediate problems to tackle. First, having never owned new casual clothes before, she found herself faced with an almost overabundance of choice, yet no clue what she wanted to wear. Living with Dudley's overly large castoffs, she'd never developed her own individual sense of style, nor did she have the first clue as to what she might actually like.

Which led to the second issue of knowing almost nothing about women's clothing in general. Easily a quarter of the items she had she wasn't even entirely certain she knew exactly how to put on to begin with.

Her third concern lay with what Augusta had been telling her at Madam Malkin's. As much as she hated it, she was the Lady of her House, the future Head of House Potter, and she really should start dressing the part. Unfortunately she wasn't certain how to do that. What fit a Lady of a House in such a casual setting as dinner in the Great Hall?

After nearly ten minutes spent staring into the wardrobe Harleen finally let out an exasperated sigh and decided to keep things simple. She reached out and grabbed two items, hesitating briefly over one of them before adding a change of undergarments to what she held and made her way to the door across the room that she assumed led to the showers.

Thirty minutes later saw her showered and changed and studying her reflection in the mirror over the sink, ignoring its commentary on her appearance. The black slacks she was comfortable with and they fit well instead of being too large as she was mostly used to with her old clothes. She'd almost chosen a skirt but, despite her resolve, she just couldn't quite bring herself to wear one when it wasn't a requirement.

It was the top she'd chosen that was giving her the most pause. A vibrant emerald green in color, the scooped neckline showed a little more than a hint of cleavage and she couldn't decide if it was too much or not, as well as showing some of the scars that crossed her chest that she still had yet to conceal with the usual glamour since the goblet had stripped them away.

Well, she thought, no way to prove to any doubters that I'm really a girl quite like shoving these things in their faces… figuratively speaking.

While the scars still gave her pause, she reminded herself, forcefully, of what Hermione had told her. She didn't need to hide who she was or what she'd been through and she left her wand where it was, in the holster strapped to her forearm, resisting the urge to hide behind her glamour.

Decision made, she grabbed a school robe and made her way downstairs to meet Hermione, who made no comment on the scars visible above the neckline of her top, merely offering her a smile, before the two of them left for dinner. Harleen kept her face down, as to avoid seeing the looks she was sure were being cast in her direction until half way through the meal when she finally looked up, a frown on her face, and turned to Hermione.

"Hey, where's Ron?" she asked. "I just realized that I haven't seen him since Monday. He didn't even come visit me in the Hospital Wing, come to think of it."

"He was in class earlier, though he didn't sit near us and he slept through the whole thing," Hermione noted with clear disapproval, looking around the table as she spoke, in search of the missing red head.

"I heard that he caught a detention with Professor Snape," Neville spoke up from the seat across from Harleen. He'd given her a second look when the two girls sat down across from him, but thankfully hadn't commented on either the amount of skin she was showing, or the scars.

"How'd he manage that?" she blurted out. "We didn't even have Potions today!"

Neville shrugged. "Search me, just what I heard," he offered before turning his attention back to his food.

The two girls sighed, exchanging eerily similar exasperated looks.

"Well, nothing to be done about it, I guess," Harleen finally commented as she retrieved her box of potions from the pocket of the robes she'd worn over her clothes. Hermione said nothing, choosing to watch in silence as Harleen looked over the instructions again and carefully selected the correct potion. With that task completed and the box shrunk down and tucked into her pocket again, she turned back to her friend.

"So," she said. "Herbology and Potions yesterday. I know you picked up the assignments we were supposed to do, think you and Neville could explain to me what we missed?"

"Me?" Neville cut in in shock. "Why would you want my help?"

"Because you're a friend, practically family since your Gran is my guardian, and you're also the best I know in Herbology, Neville," Harleen immediately responded. "You've got a natural talent for it and your help would be really appreciated. Some tips from Hermione with potions could help us both a lot," she added with a pleading look in Hermione's direction.

"Of course I'll help," she informed them, laughing at the look on Harleen's face. "I'm really surprised you're not better at Potions, actually, Neville. There are so many overlapping aspects with Herbology that I'd have thought you'd be better at it."

"That'd be because Snape makes him nervous and he ends up flustered in class."

"Professor Snape, Harleen," Hermione admonished, seemingly more out of habit than anything else as there was no heat to her words.

"No, he's not a professor and I refuse to call him that," Harleen disagreed, shaking her head firmly. "A professor is someone that teaches. Mister Snape doesn't teach us anything. He puts a recipe on the board and tells us to get to it. Has he ever explained how to prepare ingredients? Has he ever explained why certain ingredients react to each other in different ways? Has he ever actually taught us anything that we couldn't have learned better just by reading the book with no instructor at all?"

She shook her head again at the looks of dawning comprehension on her friend's faces, as well as some of the nearby students that were listening in. "No, he's not a professor. At most he's earned being called Potions Master, as he is that. He's the youngest person to ever gain a Mastery in the field so that much he's actually done, but that doesn't automatically make him a professor.

"Anyway, back to what I was saying. Potions Master Snape skulks around our classes making snide comments and offering insults and ridicule and he makes Neville nervous. Because he's nervous he makes mistakes, that's why he doesn't do better in class. I'm sure that if we practiced some potions without the old bat breathing down our necks, Neville would be a brilliant brewer."

After a bit of silence during which Hermione looked thoughtful and Neville simply gaped in astonishment, the witch at her side nodded her head.

"You're right. I hate to say it but you're right," she said, sighing despondently. "Neville, you really do understand Herbology so well, you should be much better at Potions just because you know so much about the properties of the different ingredients. I'd be happy to help with potions and if you can offer some insight into Herbology, I'm pretty sure we could get both assignments finished before curfew without too much trouble."

With both girls regarding him questioningly, Neville easily caved, holding his hands up in surrender.

"If you're sure, I'd be happy to help, and happy for the help, too. There's no need to try to convince me," he said, though he looked a little nervous about the entire prospect.

"Hey, Harry?"

Harleen turned her head, looking down the table to find Katie sitting near the other Foxes as well as the twins.

"What's up, Katie?" she called.

"If you guys are planning a study session, think I could tag along? I could use a little help with Defense."

Harleen blinked in surprise and her head tilted slightly to one side as she regarded the older girl. "You're a year ahead of us in Defense," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're the best in your year. I'm pretty sure you'd be able to offer up some thoughts at least, that might get me going in the right direction."

Harleen shared a look with Hermione and Neville, and when neither seemed against the idea she shrugged, turning her attention back to Katie.

"Fine by me," she said.

"Great," Katie called with a grin as she stood from the table. "Mind if I tell a few others about it?"

"Not at all, meet you all in the Library?"

"See you there."

Katie hurried from the Hall while Harleen, Neville, and Hermione stood and made their way toward Gryffindor tower to retrieve their bags. They had a short handful of hours before curfew and they were determined to get as much done as they could.

By the time they arrived in the Library, the study group had grown far beyond what Harleen had expected. Several tables were pushed together in the center of the room and around them sat all three chasers from Gryffindor as well as the twins. Dean Thomas and Seamus were there. Several Hufflepuffs from their year and even a couple of Ravenclaws that Harleen didn't immediately recognize filled some of the seats.

"Well," she murmured to her friends where they stood on either side of her, each as surprised as she was, "this should be interesting."

#####

'Interesting' had certainly been the word to use, Harleen reflected later that evening as she sat in the Common Room with Neville and Hermione. They had not been able to completely finish both assignments as Hermione had expected, not with so many there looking for help, or offering help in one subject or another. They had managed complete outlines for both and the entire group left the table having made significant progress in their various assignments. All in all, it had been a successful evening.

Harleen had expected a lot of questions regarding her situation, but aside from a few confirming that it was okay to still call her 'Harry', there had been nothing.

"You know you don't have to wait with me," she tried.

Neville made a scoffing sound from his chair near the fireplace while Hermione merely sniffed and turned the page in her book.

"You said yourself that we're practically family," Neville explained. "I'm not going to let you sit here and deal with Ron alone."

"As if she'd be alone," Hermione muttered under her breath. "Though if he takes much longer to get here I'm ready to suggest we give up waiting for him and try tomorrow."

When they'd returned to the Common Room just before curfew, Harleen had informed the two that she intended to wait and talk to Ron. Both seemed less than pleased to hear that, but immediately insisted that they would wait with her. She protested their decision but her heart really wasn't in it. She couldn't deny that the support was nice.

Harleen really wasn't sure how to feel about Ronald Weasley. She'd clung to his friendship for a long time now, counting the future that had yet to be lived. But there were so many issues surrounding him that she couldn't ignore. His temper, jealousy, and inferiority complex were simply not things that she needed to deal with. He treated Hermione and just about anyone else not a Gryffindor terribly. Harleen remembered his commentary regarding the various girls in the school before the Yule Ball the first time around all too well and she shuddered to think how he might behave toward her. That was all even before he abandoned them during the Hunt.

He never came back, and not only did she not know why, she would now never know. She didn't feel that she could trust Ron. The fact that her lack of trust was partly for things the boy hadn't actually done yet, and might never do, made her feel terrible, but she couldn't shake how she felt.

Beside her on the sofa Hermione suddenly closed her book. "Show time," she muttered, drawing Harleen from her thoughts. She turned slightly to see the portrait closing and a weary looking Ron Weasley shuffling his way across the Common Room toward the stairs.

"Ron," Hermione called, catching the boy's attention. "Come sit? We need to talk to you."

Ron glared at her. "Done ignoring me for Potter?" he snapped and Hermione tensed but did not lash out at him.

"I haven't been ignoring you," she said calmly. "Come sit, please. It's important."

For a moment Harleen didn't think he would listen but then, grumbling under his breath, he stomped over and threw himself into the open chair across from the sofa and next to Neville. He glanced at the other boy for a moment before he turned his attention to Harleen, giving her a quick once over that had her skin crawling.

"Who're you?"

Mouth dropping open in shock she turned to look at an equally surprised Hermione.

"Harry still in the Hospital?" Ron asked when she didn't immediately respond.

"My name's Harleen," she said, turning back to Ron. "Harleen Potter."

Ron actually started at that, jerking in his seat as his attention swung back toward her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "There aren't any other Potters," he said. "Just the git that says he's my friend."

"Ron, this is Harry," Hermione tried to explain.

"Harry is a bloke," he shot back. "Unless you're saying that he hid those from us all this time," he added with a gesture toward Harleen's chest.

"Oi! Watch it!" she snapped, pulling her robes closed in an attempt to shield herself from view.

Between Harleen, Hermione, and Neville they managed to explain what happened and the truth of her birth gender. By the end of their explanation the red head looked somewhere between gobsmacked and furious.

"I'm not sure how you haven't heard," Harleen finished. "The whole school knows by now but that's not important. I didn't put my name in the goblet, Ron. I didn't do it, but I don't have the time or energy to try to convince you if you're not going to believe me. I have too much else going on right now to worry about your temper and your jealousies. I could really use my friends, and I could really use some help and support. So are we still friends or not?"

"Too worried about your upcoming interviews and photo ops to deal with your best mate, you mean?" he snarled, ears a violent red that was spreading into his cheeks. "Whatever else happened to you, I can't believe you would still lie to me about the tournament."

"And I can't believe that you would assume I'm lying!" she snapped at him. "You claim to be my friend but instead of believing me, instead of believing in me, you accuse me of lying to you. What reason do I have to lie? What reason do I have to want to be in this bloody tournament?"

"Fame and fortune," he roared back. "You just can't help not being the center of attention."

"I hate being famous! You saying that and thinking I would actually want any part of this stupid tournament just proves you don't know me at all. People have died in this bloody thing! That's why it's only supposed to be for students that are of age."

Harleen realized she was standing, glaring at the red head in a blind fury.

"Don't you think I've had my fill of almost dying, Ronald Weasley? After the last three years at this damned nuthouse, do you think I was having fun all those times I came close to dying?"

"Everyone always said we got into adventures-"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE, RON!"

Hermione's hand found her arm, pulling her back from where she'd stepped toward her former friend, hands balled into fists at her side.

"I don't want to die," she said again. "I want to have a life. I want to graduate. I want to get married one day. I want a family and a job. I want to not be worrying all the time that there's some lunatic out there plotting to kill me!

"You go on about how I always get everything. What do I have, Ron? What? I have a scar on my face that everyone in the wizarding world knows on sight, so I can't go anywhere without being harassed or stared at. I have a fortune sitting in a vault because my parents died and left me alone. I have relatives that hate me and tried to beat any trace of magic out of me before I could even come to school here. They lied to me about who I was, who my parents were, how they died! They told me my parents were unemployed drunks that died in a car crash that my dad caused!

"You may not have as much money, you may not be as famous, but you have people that love you and care about you and worry that you're safe and healthy. I have to take potions for the next few months to repair the damage my relatives did because they never fed me enough! I grew up shoved in the cupboard under the stairs when they didn't want to deal with m-"

She broke off, her teeth snapping together as her mouth closed, face flushed and breath coming harsh and fast in her fury.

Dammit!

A flicker of a glance in Neville's direction showed the boy was pale and outraged in equal parts and she felt certain that she didn't even want to see how Hermione looked so she focused her attention back on Ron, carefully keeping her voice controlled and level as she continued speaking.

"If you actually believe that I would ever want to be a part of something like this damn tournament, and that I would lie to my friends about it, after everything we've been through... then you were never actually my friend."

Gently she shook off Hermione's grip on her arm and walked unsteadily toward the stairs to the girl's dorms.

"Don't ever speak to me again, Ronald Bilius Weasley. I have nothing more to say to you."

Slowly her feet carried her up the stairs and behind her she could hear Neville and Hermione both tearing into Ron but she ignored it, keeping her focus in front of her until she reached her dorm and was able to slip inside.

In the dark she stripped down to her underwear and crawled into her bed, curling up under the blankets. With her back toward the door and the curtains around her bed drawn firmly shut, Harleen Potter did something that she hadn't done since she was six years old.

She cried herself to sleep.