AN: Oh hey, it's time for our annual update! Sorry that it wasn't sooner, I was legit motivated to get this chapter off the presses for you guys a long time ago, but then life happened. Also JKR is a terf and I wasn't even sure I wanted to continue this. I will, because I enjoy writing it, and fuck allowing another person's small mindedness to stop me from doing what I enjoy. Building on that, this chapter was supposed to be longer, but because of the aforementioned reasons I feel like it's long enough and enough time has passed between chapters to justify splitting off the rest into a separate chapter. Sorry for the wait, folks, I hope it was worth it and that I can cut down on production time.

DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor will I ever, own the intellectual property of Harry Potter, or any related properties. This work is not intended to produce a profit of any sort.

Chapter Six: Two Lies and a Truth

Tap tap tap

Harry's eyelids fluttered briefly before scrunching shut again as the morning sun assaulted her vision. She whined quietly and rolled over, wanting nothing more in the world than to just go back to sleep. For a wonderful moment she was able to bury her face in her pillow and drift back off to -

Tap tap tap

A defeated groan escaped the girl who lived as her eyes snapped back open, clearly whoever was at her window had no intention of waiting. 'So much for sleeping in...ugh, wait what time is it?' The witch propped herself up on an elbow and reached for her glasses, gently putting them on before glancing down at her watch, only for her eyes to widen in shock. 'Eight twenty-six?! My alarm should..have...oh. I forgot to set one...damn.' She let out a soft sigh, 'Well so much for dodging the Dursleys. Vernon probably won't be gone for another half hour at least. Maybe if I just move through the kitchen quick enough they won't have enough time to react. Then by the time I'm back from my run he'll be gone and I can -'

Tap tap tap tap

Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise at the increasingly sharper taps, "Fine...I'm coming." She grumbled, feeling a little resentful as she swung her legs out and stood to cross the room where a haughty looking barn owl sat outside her window, glaring impatiently at her. The moment she opened the window the bird swooped in and perched herself on the desk chair as if she owned it, before extending her left leg expectantly towards the witch. Harry blinked at the unexpected territorial display, though she quickly forgot her confusion as she felt a stone drop in her stomach, "Oh, shite..." Stamped boldly on the blue wax sealing the envelope was an official crest of the Ministry of Magic.

A tight band of fear constricted around her heart as she stared at the seal.'What if it's a letter about me using magic last night? I've had a couple of strikes, they might even try to expel me. But if I can't go back to Hogwarts then I can't keep training and -'

The girl who lived jumped in surprise as the barn owl, now known to be the ministry's messenger, let out a reproachful squawk, clearly fed up with waiting on her. Harry winced and shot an uneasy glance toward the door before reaching out to untie the letter from the owl's leg, "Sorry..."

She received a sharp peck on her knuckle in response before the owl leaped from her chair and soared back out the window. "Ow! What the hell?"

Her anger at the departed bird quickly dissolved when she looked back down at the letter in her hand, in its place she could feel a quiet panic beginning to well up in her chest. She'd received two notifications from the ministry in her short life, and neither of them had been good news. What if this really was the one where they expelled her? They hadn't sent a letter for her magic at the world cup, but this was the final straw? 'But I thought my wand didn't even the have a trace on it, Olivander's note said so!' She'd been so eager to test her new wand that she hadn't even stopped to consider whether or not that was something the wandmaker would actually do. 'Damn it, was it a trick or did something go wrong? I never should have trusted him!' With a shaking hand she reached down and broke the seal on the envelope. She hadn't even finished reading the first sentence before her heart sank.

Dear Mister Potter,

We regret to inform you that you have been identified in a third report of an unauthorized use of underage magic. Our records show that you have been warned in the past about using magic outside of the school year. We would like to remind you that performing underage magic outside of school can lead to the expulsion from said school. (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).

We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence under section 13 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

However, in light of evidence attested to in an ongoing investigation related to the report, the ministry has come to the conclusion that you were in clear and present danger at the time of your unauthorized use of magic. As such we have ruled that you meet the case for reasonable use of underage magic in defense of yourself and others.

Due to the nature of both the report and the evidence surrounding it we request that you meet with Madame Amelia Bones in order to give your account of the incident that led to your use of underage magic. Please report to the Ministry of Magic on Wednesday, August 27th, at 1:30 P.M. for your appointment. If you have no guardian to transport you to the Ministry you may write back and request an escort. Should you be unable to attend your appointment another will be arranged for you, should you elect not to attend either one then further actions will be taken.

Enjoy the remainder of your holidays! Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

The girl who lived stared down at Mafalda Hopkirk's signature and let out a shaky breath, slowly starting to calm down with the realization that she'd dodged yet another close call. 'So I'm not expelled? I guess Olivander was telling the truth after all. Who's this Madame Amelia Bones though? Her name sounds familiar.' Despite her relief a small frown tugged at her lips and she quickly scanned the message again, 'Wait...Wednesday? That's today!' Harry's eyes flashed down towards her watch again, finding that only four minutes had passed, 'Meaning I only have five hours?! Oh no...no no no, I'm not ready!' She could feel a fresh wave of anxiety bubbling up at the thought of having to talk to anybody right now, and the fact that it would be somebody from the ministry only served to make her heart pound as if she were being chased around the great lake by Kingsley again. Her entire summer had consisted of pushing herself to the limit of her endurance, more than that, over the last four days she felt as if she'd been holding herself together by a thread and it had left her with precious little time or energy for processing her emotions. 'She's going to want to know how I knew how to defend myself...how do I explain that without spilling the beans about using magic all summer? Dumbledore isn't going to let me stay next year if the ministry starts asking questions about it...'

Harry's lips twisted in a worried frown that deepened considerably as she realized another, equally pressing concern, 'What if she can tell I'm a girl? I haven't even had time to figure out how to deal with all of this, what am I supposed to tell her if she asks about it? It's not like other people haven't noticed it already...and what if she can tell I'm a veela?' She swallowed thickly, as she remembered the way her schoolmates huddled together and avoided her when they thought she might be the heir of Slytherin. She wasn't certain what the potential fallout of her heritage becoming public knowledge looked like, but judging by past events it would be nothing but trouble.

Harry caught herself starting to hyperventilate and forced herself to take a long deep breath. She held it for a few seconds before slowly letting it go and taking another, 'Get yourself together, Potter, you can't fix this if you aren't thinking straight. Whoever this Bones lady is, she'll want to know about what happened at the World Cup. They aren't about to throw me in Azkaban for self defense, so maybe they're trying to catch the Death Eaters that got away?' That was good, it meant that as long as she didn't draw attention to herself then nobody would notice that she was a little different. She pointedly ignored that she only knew what was happening to her in the first place was because other people had noticed. 'Being a girl, though...' The witch grimaced, she might be able to hide that...but for how long? If even Dudley thought she looked different then was there even any point to trying to deny it? More importantly, did she even want to? She'd been trying to live up to others' expectations ever since she was introduced to the magical world, and even before her first year she'd apparently tried so hard to be something she wasn't that she'd suppressed her own memories. 'No...I didn't decide to forget, they made me do it. I knew who I was and they wouldn't listen...'

Stinging pinpricks erupted along the veela's spine starting from the base of her skull. She slapped a hand across the back of her neck with a hiss, only for her pain and anger to be forgotten with the startled realization that tiny spines had sprouted all along the back of her neck. Her eyes widened in fear for a moment as she remembered Eloise's mention of feathers, 'Wait, that's what that feeling is?! Does that mean I'm going to turn into one of those...things at the world cup?! But Eloise didn't look like that, so there has to be a way to make them go away, right?' A distressed whine escaped Harry as she scratched at her neck, only to blink in surprise when she noticed that the skin under her fingers was smooth again, 'What happend to...' The witch's eyes narrowed as she started connecting the dots, 'They only show up when I'm angry? Okay...well at least it's not permanent, but if that happens every time I get mad...'

The girl who lived closed her eyes with a sigh of exasperation, "Fuck..." She had every right to be angry, she was certain of it, but if losing her temper meant exposing herself as a veela then she was going to have to get a better handle on herself or else learn to accept that the world was going to know more about her than she was comfortable with. She took another calming breath before opening her eyes as she blew it out, "This sucks..."

'You're not going to solve any of your problems by complaining about them, though.' Harry frowned before checking her watch again. 'Eight thirty-eight...I have to start moving or I'll never be ready in time for this meeting. I still need to figure out how I'm going to even get there, Hedwig's still at Hogwarts so asking to reschedule is out of the picture.' She sighed and dropped the letter on her desk before stripping off her clothes from the previous day on her way towards her trunk. The witch dressed hurriedly, normally by this time in the morning she was nearly done with her workout, which meant that she would have to scramble to get through it if she wanted to have time to find somebody to take her and still look presentable. 'What do you wear to something like this?'

"One thing at a time." She reminded herself while pulling her hair up into a ponytail, quietly hoping that by going on her run she could somehow avoid her impending meltdown. Or, at the very least, postpone it until after her trip to the ministry. The witch bent down to tug her trainers on before tying them tightly and pushing herself back up with a soft huff. "Well, let's get this over with."

Harry made her way downstairs slowly and paused before the last step, listening carefully in the hopes of getting an idea of where her relatives might be. If she was lucky she might still be able to slip out without having to interact with a single Dursley. The veela thought she could hear Petunia speaking, though she couldn't make out what she was saying. There was a pause and then she heard Dudley grunt something in return, probably through a mouthful of breakfast if she had to guess. 'No Vernon though...maybe he left for work early? Since when does he do that?' If he had then maybe it was an indication that the day wouldn't be so bad after all?

The girl who lived snorted, knowing better than to get her hopes up. She waited another few seconds before deciding to seize the moment and make a break for the back door. Quietly skipping over the last step she touched down on the landing and turned to make her escape, the witch had nearly made it when she heard her aunt's voice echoing from the kitchen again, "I'm serious, Dudders, I want you to leave him alone. Just stay away from him, you know that his kind are dangerous."

Harry rolled her eyes, it hardly took a seer to guess who she was talking about. It was the response that made her freeze with her hand on the doorknob, "Something's changed about him, mum. He's different, like scary different..."

Petunia sniffed, but it was different from her normal haughty sound, "That's exactly what I've been telling you, Popkin. Make sure that you're extra careful until he leaves, there are sure to be more of them around even if you can't see them."

That seemed to give Dudley some pause, the veela could only imagine what her cousin had to think about invisible witches and wizards watching him. For several seconds neither of them said anything and she started to turn the knob again, "What happened to him? Why does he look like that?"

"I don't know, honey. I..." Her aunt hesitated, seemingly unsure what to say, "I think he's sick in the head. You're too young to remember this, but he used to go around trying to tell people he was a girl. We thought we'd cured it, but..."

A wave of anger and humiliation washed over Harry at Petunia's admission of what she and Vernon had done to her. She gritted her teeth in silent fury before forcing herself to breath again, thankfully the telltale prickle acted as a good reminder to reign in her temper, "He...he looks like a girl, though."

The kitchen fell silent again, and then, "He looks like your aunt Lily." The words were so quiet she had to strain her ears to hear them, "I can see her in his eyes. She had this look she did, it was...I guess it was like there was always a fire burning inside her that you could see if you looked just hard enough."

Tears welled up in the veela's eyes, only to be stubbornly blinked away. Never before had her aunt spoken about her mother like that, at the very least she'd certainly never said anything like that to her. It was as if an unspoken law had been violated, and in a way that was true. Harry had waited years for something like this when she was younger and, now that it had finally occurred, she found herself feeling somewhat numb. She could hear Dudley ask something else, but she'd already stopped listening. Instead she stepped outside and let the door slam shut behind her, no longer caring if either Dursley had heard her.

The girl who lived stomped her way around to the front of the house and was unsurprised to find Vernon's car already absent from the drive. There was no way Petunia would have ever risked saying something like that with her husband in the house. 'Sick in the head...that's what she called me.' She fumed while storming down the sidewalk toward's Mrs. Figg's house where she was certain she could stretch without fear of her 'family' interrupting.

An indignant huff escaped Harry as she tried to ignore the fresh wave of abject humiliation washing over her, bringing a hot stinging to her eyes with it. She swiped an arm across her face, stubbornly resisting the inevitable as she tried to contain a strangled sob, "Damn it, why does this hurt so much? You knew what to expect coming back here..."

That wasn't entirely true, she hadn't predicted that Petunia would break her eternal silence. That, on its own, would have been enough to shake her to her core, but she knew deep down that this was about more than cruel words from an awful woman. When she woke up on Saturday morning Harry was, begrudgingly, the boy who lived and, while she had been worried about Voldemort, the threat of his return felt comfortably distant. Now it felt as if her entire world was slowly crumbling away while she watched, powerless do anything about it.

It wasn't as if it was entirely awful, of course. Despite her initial reluctance to accept Eloise's explanation, the dark haired witch found herself taking some comfort in the revelation that she'd been right in her past assertions of her gender. With it, however, came a dawning realization that even if she could somehow manage to evade the fame thrust upon her by a homicidal madman she would always be viewed as different. 'I couldn't just be a normal girl, of course. Only magic could take puberty and make it worse. Maybe Petunia's right...' Harry reflected ruefully before sniffing as she wiped the remaining moisture from her cheeks. The veela let out an uneven sigh and resettled her glasses across her nose before leaning forward into the first of her warm up stretches; all she wanted to worry about right now was her training. It helped her to focus, and it comforted her that even with all that was going on she had control over something in her life.

It wasn't until she'd straightened back up that she noticed a familiar cat watching her intently from Mrs. Figg's garden wall. 'Oh god...please tell me she hasn't been here the whole time...' The girl who lived wondered what McGonagall would do if she bolted and pretended later that she just hadn't seen her.

Before she could find out the tabby trilled sharply and hopped down from the wall to trot into the alley behind her elderly neighbor's house. When Harry didn't follow she paused and looked over her shoulder expectantly, "Mroww?"

A dejected sigh escaped the witch at the clear demand from her head of house, 'Great, here we go.' Despite her silent misgivings toward the coming conversation she offered no other protest before reluctantly following the cat away from the house.

Once they had gone far enough that they weren't at risk of being seen from the street the animagus stopped and cast a thorough look up and down the alley. After she was certain they weren't being watched Professor McGonagall shifted back into her human form with a concerned scowl. "Mister Potter, what is the matter with you?"

Harry bristled at her professor's unexpectedly severe tone, her already precariously unstable emotional state threatening to shatter into a million furious pieces. "I'm fine."

Minerva's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline at the shocking amount of bitterness coming from her normally soft spoken student. She wracked her brain for what could have triggered such a change, before a slow, awful, realization occurred to her. "Harry...is this about what happened at the world cup? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I - wait, what?" The girl who lived felt her anger evaporate, replaced at first with confusion followed closely by a deep pit in her stomach as she reflected on the events of Sunday night and the letter sitting in her room.'I...I did the right thing. I hope I didn't actually kill any of them, but even if I did whatever they were going to do to that woman was way worse. Right?' She was starting to feel nauseous.

"Harry...are you alright?" Professor McGonagall asked, her concern only growing as she watched the color drain from her student's face at the mention of the Death Eaters' attack.

"...Yes." Harry nodded stiffly, doing her best to swallow the bile threatening to creeping up her throat, "I'm okay, Professor." A doubtful look crossed the deputy headmistress' face, though it softened as her student continued, "I did get an owl from the ministry saying they wanted to ask me about what happened, though."

McGonagall nodded, seemingly unsurprised, "Albus suspected the aurors would want to speak with you. I don't suppose you have the letter with you?"

The younger witch shook her head, "No pockets." She motioned to her clothes before shrugging, "I'm supposed to meet her today, though."

The older witch frowned softly, "Today? Are you certain about that?"

"I only got the notice this morning, but it said that I'm supposed to meet Madame Bones at one thirty today, Professor." She replied, sounding more confident than she felt, "The letter said I could reschedule if I had to, but their owl left before I could read it and Hedwig's still at Hogwarts..."

Minverva's frown grew deeper at her explanation, "Very well, I will message Albus and ensure that we get you to the ministry on time. If nothing else I will take you myself, Mister Potter."

Harry released an anxious breath as relief washed over her, "Thank you, Professor, I wasn't sure what to do..."

"You did exactly the right thing." The deputy headmistress assured her calmly before pausing for a moment, almost as if she were debating whether or not she should continue, "Before you go, is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

"A-anything else?" Harry swallowed thickly before shaking her head nervously, "Not really..."

Taking great care to police her tone, the older witch resisted the urge to sigh, "Mister Potter, do you remember what I told you at the beginning of your first term? Before you were sorted?" The girl who lived frowned uncomfortably and shook her head, unsure of what her professor was getting at.

"Professor, I'm no-"

"Your house is your family, Harry, and like a family we take care of our own. So whatever it is that's happened, I assure you that you can talk to me about it."

Harry felt a sharp pang in her chest, she wanted to believe that was true, but Eloise's warning and her own experience throughout second year put the lie to her head of houses' words, "Somehow I doubt that..." She muttered under her breath.

The professor cocked an unamused eyebrow, "Try me."

The veela's cheeks burned brilliantly as she was reminded just how keen the deputy headmistress' ears really were. Nonetheless she remained quiet while McGonagall patiently watched her gaze shift toward the ground, struggling to find the words she needed. Then, slowly, a gut wrenching thought occurred to her, 'What if she thinks I'm a freak too?' She worried at her lip, 'But...magic is weird anyway, right? McGonagall's probably seen loads of things weirder than this. Besides, whether Dumledore's already's told her or not, she's going to need to know what's happening to me sooner or later...maybe it'd be better to get out in front of it instead?' Harry blew out an unsteady sigh, she wasn't sure she was ready for this, 'What other choice do I have though? Just try to ignore it? Yeah that'll fly for all of five seconds after I take my shirt off, judging by Madame Malkin's reaction at least. I'm going to have to rip this bandage off eventually, so why not just do it now?'

When Minerva finally managed to catch her student's eyes again she found a vulnerability within them that immediately set her on edge, "Promise you won't laugh?"

Her expression softened somewhat at the quiet request, "Of course, Harry, I promise."

Despite the younger witch's growing desire to just tell the professor and be done with it she still found herself stumbling in her search for the words she needed, "D-did, Professor Dumbledore," She licked her lips nervously, "Uhmm, did he tell you why Mrs. Delacour was here?"

McGonagall's brow furrowed at the stalling tactic, "No, Albus mentioned that she would be dropping in, but nothing of what the two of you would talk about."

She blinked in surprise, "Oh...", It was a novel feeling to not be the last to know something about herself. 'Wait, if Dumbledore didn't tell her I'm a veela...does she really need to know?' She drew in a deep breath and contemplated the question. Eloise had warned that her aura would be unstable for a few years at least; having someone she could talk to that understood what was happening and could help her deal with it would be invaluable. On the other hand there was absolutely no chance in hell that McGonagall wouldn't warn at least the prefects about her aura, and at that point Harry may as well shout it from the astronomy tower. 'She's my head of house though, if she doesn't know about it and people start getting weird what am I supposed to do? I wish I knew how mom dealt with this...'

"The headmaster is well aware that you value your privacy, Mister Potter, and he is not in the habit of spreading rumors." Her head of house assured patiently, having ascertained that this was a delicate issue, "And neither am I, for that matter. Anything you have to tell me will stay between the two of us."

The girl who lived licked her lips nervously but nodded her understanding, "I..." She hated the way her voice wavered and paused, taking another deep breath before clenching her fists so tightly her nails bit into her palms, "I'm a girl, Professor." Her stomach practically did a summersault and her heart raced in her chest at actually saying the words out loud.

Minerva stiffened in shock at the admission. Of all the possible scenarios she'd prepared herself for, this clearly was not one of them. Luckily for both witches, the deputy headmistress prided herself on her ability to adapt to changing circumstances, "That's...I mean, that must have been a shocking realization, Mist- ...Harry. Are you certain about this?"

Mortification didn't even begin to describe how Harry felt as her eyes locked firmly on the ground again. She didn't dare look at her professor as she nodded weakly, "I'm certain, Professor. It's...that's why Eloise visited yesterday. I'm..." She hesitated for a moment before coming to a silent decision, "I have a rare magical disorder that sometimes causes a delay in puberty in witches and made everybody think I was a boy. I didn't believe it at first, but it explained so many things that never made any sense before. And...well, I sort of already knew, about being a girl."

"Excuse me?!" The animagus asked incredulously before regaining control of herself with a deep breath, "What sort of things do you mean?"

"Ah, j-just, there've been a lot of things changing for me recently." The younger witch offered vaguely, only to receive an expectant stare from her head of house in return, "I, uhh...well I started growing boobs." She explained delicately, leading her blush to darken considerably. "And...well, Snape knocked loose some memories from before I started hiding who I was. That's how I found out about all of this, actually."

The way the deputy headmistress' eyes widened would have been comical in another circumstance, "Why in Merlin's name have you never said anything about this?! A young woman has no business living in the male dormitories!"

The veela winced at the question, despite already knowing that it would have to be addressed, "W-well, it's...complicated, professor." She risked glancing up at the older witch again and was met with a less than impressed expression.

"I'm quite certain it is, Mist-, Miss Potter, however I must insist that you indulge me with an explanation."

Harry chewed her bottom lip nervously but nodded as her chest fluttered at the feminine prefix, "I've...got boy parts. Down there, I mean, that's why I never said anything..." She whispered, doing her best to ignore the uneasy nausea that came with her admission, "I don't remember a lot from when I was younger...most of it just kind of blends together. But I remember trying to tell my aunt and uncle that I wasn't a boy. It, uh...it didn't go well." She hugged herself as shame gripped her tightly, "I must have kept trying for a while but eventually...well, they were so angry about it every time I brought it up that I just sort of decided to start lying. I'm not sure when I started to actually believe them, but it was before I started at primary school. By the time I showed up for Hogwarts I'd buried the memories so deep it was like they didn't even exist."

'At least until the greasy git dug them up, anyways.' She mused bitterly before glancing back up toward the older witch only to feel her her stomach drop at the deep frown spreading across her head of house's face. 'Oh no...'

There was no mistaking the righteous fury rising behind Minerva's eyes as she studied her student and properly took in how much smaller she was than her peers for the first time. The closer she looked the more she could see the unmistakable signs of long term neglect and abuse written across her student's body, a fact made even more alarming when she took her student's newfound dedication to physical fitness into account. Stepping forward she reached out for Harry only to freeze when she shrank back, fear written clearly across her face. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything!"

McGonagall's eyebrows knitted in confusion at Harry's apology, "Of course you should have said something! The Hogwarts staff can't protect you if we don't know what's happening, Mister Potter!"

The sudden return of her old title felt like a swift punch to the gut to Harry. Always in the back of her head there had always been a small niggling discomfort with the title, but this time...she hadn't felt so intensely hurt by a single word for nearly a decade. For a moment she folded even further into herself, wanting nothing more than to sink into the street and cease existing altogether. 'This was a bad idea...I never should have said anything. Maybe if I just play along she'll act like it never happened and then...' And then...nothing would change; she would be living the same lie as before, only it would be worse because she knew now. It wasn't a half forgotten memory buried in her subconscious anymore and it wouldn't go away just because she tried to ignore the reality of who she was. '"The only one who can decide how you live your life is you, Harry."'

Swallowing her fear as best she could Harry forced herself to meet the older witch's eyes, "It's Miss Potter, Professor."

The deputy headmistress blinked back at her in shock, clearly bewildered at being corrected by her student until comprehension slowly dawned across her face, "Of course, Miss Potter, I apologize. I simply...I never realized." She took a moment to compose herself before continuing, "Have you informed anyone else of this, yet?"

"You're the first...except for Eloise, I mean." Harry could feel her stomach twist with guilt slightly as she realized that Ron and Hermione should have been the first to know. 'I'll tell them the next time I see them, they deserve to know the truth more than anybody else.'

Minerva's expression softened considerably at the dawning realization that she wasn't alone in uncharted territory. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Miss Potter." She offered her a gentle smile, "Your courage is to be admired."

The girl who lived flushed brightly at the praise, 'Frankly I'm just glad I didn't throw up. But...it feels good that somebody else knows now.' She reflected gratefully.

A comfortable silence descended over the witches until Professor McGonagall's smile faded, "Where would you like to go from here, Miss Potter? I can inform the rest of Hogwarts' staff of your decision if you would like, so that they know the proper way to address you."

Harry bit her lip nervously as she considered the question before slowly nodding, "I think I'd like that, I don't want to hide who I am anymore. But, ah...is there any chance that I could talk to Ron and Hermione before term starts? I just feel like they deserve to know before everybody else."

At the mention of the other two thirds of Gryffindor's so called golden trio Minerva had to resist the urge to sigh, though she curtly nodded her approval of her student's request, "I am certain that both Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley would be thrilled to hear from you, Miss Potter, I'll speak with Mr. Weasley's parents about arranging a quick visit before term. Now, is there anything else?" After a moment of thought the younger witch shook her head, "Very well. Before I let you go, Harry, you understand that if you return to Hogwarts as a young woman you will be held to the same standards of conduct as your peers, including the proper uniform?"

She blinked in confusion before shrugging, "How's that any different than before?"

"You'll be expected to wear a skirt and blouse, to start with, as well as undergarments befitting of a young lady."

"Oh..." The veela felt the butterflies in her stomach return as she realized she would need to go back to Madame Malkin's. As nice as the woman was she didn't particularly relish spending another afternoon modeling half the shop's inventory, "Do you think I could just transfigure the clothes I already have?"

"I should certainly hope so, Miss Potter, given all of your work over the summer." The deputy headmistress replied, sounding vaguely amused, "However I hardly think that would be a practical solution, or have you already forgotten Valen's Principle?"

The girl who lived huffed softly, "No, I just thought maybe there was a way to make the change permanent so I didn't have to get measured again."

Professor McGonagall shook her head, "It is possible, but it would require designing a binding rune capable of maintaining your transfiguration that won't also absorb residual magic from your surroundings. Otherwise your rune schematic would eventually overload and fail. Frankly it would be much less effort, not to mention safer, to simply buy yourself a bra, Miss Potter."

Warmth returned to Harry's cheeks at her teacher's somewhat exasperated recommendation, "Understood, Professor."

"Thank you for making the sensible choice. It would have caused a major disruption for the rest of the class if you were to burst into flames."

It wasn't really funny, but for some reason Harry couldn't hold in a giggle over the absurdity of her professor's priorities. The levity lasted only for moment, but even once it had faded the veela felt infinitely better about her circumstances.'Screw what Petunia thinks, I know who I am and nobody can ever take that away from me again.'

"Keep in mind that you will be meeting with the head of the DMLE, so I suggest that you dress appropriately." The veela snapped back to the present while McGonagall eyed her workout clothes pointedly, "If you haven't heard anything from either myself or the headmaster by twelve then assume that I will be escorting you, in which case I expect you to be ready at twelve thirty sharp."

Harry glanced at her wrist, only to suppress a sigh as she realized she had, at most, a little over three hours to prepare herself. "I understand, Professor. Err...should I wear a robe?"

"No, muggle clothing will suffice, so long as you are presentable." Minerva paused to look pointedly at her tights and the younger witch nodded her acknowledgment, "Very well, you'd best be going, Miss Potter, try to relax if you can."

While the veela doubted that she'd be able to relax again until she left Little Whinging she managed a weak smile at the sentiment, "Thank you, professor, I'll do my best."

McGonagall watched her student closely as she turned to leave the alley before breaking into a run as she rounded the corner and out of sight. The animagus waited a few more seconds, until she was absolutely certain Harry was gone, before letting out an exhausted sigh, "Can nothing be simple with you, Miss Potter?"

She considered her own question before grimacing as she came to an undeniable conclusion, "Albus, you have a lot to answer for..."

The ministry of magic had something of a reputation for being a demanding and fast paced workplace, particularly for the residents of the second floor where the offices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were based. That intensity combined with the understanding that what she did mattered was part of what Tonks loved about being an auror, it wasn't just her job it was her calling.

Today was different, though. The entire floor had been on edge since the attack at the world cup, it was as if everybody was still holding their breath hoping against hope that there was no other shoe waiting in the wings. Not that there was any less hustle and bustle between the department's cubicles, just that the typical morning chatter between the aurors had been replaced by tense muttering about the orders coming down to them from the director herself. Even the typically vibrant metamorphmagus' hair had darkened to an almost jet black pitch as she reread the witness report sitting on her desk, 'Merlin's balls what were you thinking, Harry?! Taking on four death eaters...why the bloody effing hell didn't he just turn the fuck around and run away like I told him to?!'

A worried frown tugged at Tonks' lips, 'Because he thought he could help...this is the exact kind of thing he's been training for.' The realization made the auror's stomach churn as the icy dread she'd felt when she first saw Harry's bloodied body lying in the ruined clearing resurfaced, 'If he had died there it would have been my fault. I should have taken him away someplace safe before coming back to help...' She tried not to dwell on the fact that she would probably be reading a much more heartbreaking report right now if Harry had been rushed to safety.

Shacklebolt had warned her not to get too attached to Harry, back when they had been approached by Dumbledore with a request to train the boy who lived to defend himself. At the time she'd assumed it was because it would be a short assignment, but now she was starting to suspect that there was a deeper meaning to her mentor's warning.

'Does he think this kind of thing is going to happen again?' Intellectually Tonks had always realized that the only reason to put Harry through the rigorous training she had been was to prepare him for the kind of nastiness that dark wizards can put out. She had always taken it for granted that, despite Harry's penchant for trouble, his headmaster would be able to keep him insulated from any real danger at least until he graduated.

The realization that she had been naive to the point of denial left a bitter taste in her mouth. Even more so as she reflected on what little she'd heard and seen of the Dursleys, 'How could Albus Dumbledore of all people have left him with such insufferable bigots?'

A firm knock to the side of the witch's cubicle made her jump with a start that sent her tumbling off the side of her chair in surprise. It was times like this that Tonks was grateful that she'd had plenty of practice recovering from embarrassing falls, "Wotcher, Kingsley. What's the news, good I hope?" She didn't wait for him to respond before picking herself up off the floor and brushing herself off. When the seconds ticked by without any response the younger auror blinked and refocused her full attention her partner, the way that his lips were pressed into a thin grimace did little to settle her growing unease. "That bad then, eh?"

"Director Bones wants to talk to your boy." Shacklebolt muttered worriedly, "She wants to know how a fourteen year old went toe to toe with four fully trained dark wizards."

"Blimey...does she know?" Tonks felt an entirely different fear wash over her; If it came out that the two of them had been teaching a teenager restricted spells their careers would be over, dead stop. They would be lucky if they avoided Azkaban.

The taller auror shook his head slowly, "I don't think so...not yet at least. But it won't take much for her to put it together if she asks the right questions."

Tonks blew out a weary sigh and slumped back onto her chair, "How do we get out in front of this?"

"Well...we could go to the director first. It'd be better to hear it from us before she finds out from Harry." Kinglsey suggested with a grimace that the metamorphmagus mirrored.

"That's only if Harry spills the beans, though."

"Tonks, he's a kid, do you really think he's going to be able to keep the director from digging up the truth if she really wants to?" Shacklebolt retorted incredulously, drawing a glare from his partner, "Look, don't get me wrong, I know that he's smart but this is Amelia Bones we're talking about. Once she sets her focus on something she doesn't let anything get in her way. How do you think she was promoted to head our department?"

"So one of us goes to pick him up so that we can warn him." The witch whispered tersely, "He's smarter than you give him credit for, Kingsley. Look at what happened to those death eaters when they underestimated him."

An uncomfortable silence fell back over Tonks' cubicle as the tall wizard let her words sink in, "You realize that's exactly what got us into this predicament, don't you? Even if we wriggle out of being implicated the director's going to keep digging. How long do you think it'll take before she learns who Harry went to the world cup with?"

The metamorphmagus was starting to have trouble swallowing around the developing lump in her throat, "She wouldn't fire me for taking a friend to a quidditch match." The excuse sounded weak, even to her.

A deep frown etched itself across Kingsley's lips, "And then she's going to want to know how you two are friends in the first place, Tonks! If we don't come clean then what's she supposed to think about an auror taking a fourteen year old camping?"

That sinking feeling Tonks got whenever things were about to go wrong only deepened as she watched her partner try to think his way out of the trap they'd made for themselves. "You still think we should tell her." She took a steadying breath, "So, say we do that; then we're both fired, at best. At worst we get stints in Azkaban, while the death eaters that started this mess continue to run free! Does that really sound like a good idea to you?!"

Her question lingered in the cubicle for a moment, and in the silence Tonks recognized the soft hum of a privacy ward for the first time. She hadn't noticed Kingsley put it up, but he must have before he even started speaking, "You know that Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen."

"Well that's great, except that he's implicated just as much as we are in this! You're the one that keeps saying the director isn't going to stop digging, what happens when she finds out who hired us in the first place?"

"Not if one of us tell her that Harry hired you directly. You could say that you met in school and kept in touch, it wouldn't be that far fetched, and it'll be easier to convince her with a half truth than an outright lie. She might not even be too upset about that sort of arrangement."

'He's going to throw me under the bus...' The realization struck the younger auror hard, she felt like she might be sick, "You expect me to take the flak for this..."

Shacklebolt refused to meet her gaze, choosing instead to focus on a particularly frayed section of the carpet, "Only one of us has been seen in public with Harry, and if You-Know-Who is really coming back Dumbledore is going to need connections in the department." He muttered guiltily before furrowing his brow, "I warned you not to get too attached before we ever met him. You should have listened to me."

Tonks bristled at her partner's accusatory tone, "If I hadn't been there for him then you would have broken him." She hissed back furiously, "Have you even talked to Dumbledore about this yet, or did you just come up with this all on your own?"

Kingsley set his jaw as he met her glare, "It was his idea, Tonks. He promised me that he'd protect you from prosecution, but he can't afford to lose both of us. He doesn't have as many ins with the ministry these days as he used to."

The younger auror fumed at the dawning realization that she was being left out to dry by both her partner and Dumbledore himself. 'Merlin, he really is a piece of work! If I agree then I'll probably lose my job, but if I don't then that'll be the least of my worries...shite, is this what Harry has to put up with all the time?' She sighed heavily before shaking her head, "I already hate myself for this, but I'll do it. And for the record, Kingsley, you're both bastards."

Her soon to be ex-partner grimaced at her words, but nodded, "I know, Tonks. I'm sorry."

A/N: This is it for now, as I said there's more to come and hopefully much quicker than this chapter. Thank you for your time and I hope you've enjoyed yourself!