foreword

So as I'm sure everyone knows by now. J.K has decided that she's all about inclusion, as long as it's not trans people. Also, gay people only exist stereotypically, and retroactively when she's called out for lack of representation.

Now, as one of the countless 1000s of children who childhoods were defined. At least in part by the Harry Potter novels, I could respond to J.K by yelling out in frustration. I could go on and on about how my former heroes have let me down.

But instead, I've decided to go with the fun option. Re-writing the Harry Potter series with a fuck-tone of trans and other LGBT characters.

And to be clear this is not a fanfiction as I no longer a fan of J.K. Instead we're going to call this a Not a Fan Anymore fiction a NafaFic. There that works.

Chapter ONE

Harry pulled out a silver fang-like needle from the dark wooden draws. Which sat below the large silver mirror in a room just behind Dumbledore's office.

Harry poured a vial of green liquid into the top of the needle and pricked the end into his elbow. Harry moaned a little in delight as he felt the venom seep into his veins.

It was an old routine for Harry. Whenever he and Dumbledore were alone, a sharp needle prick, a vial of Fugere. He tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet into the nearby fireplace. The headline on the cover 'Harry Potter the Boy who lies' flashed across the page one last time before disappearing into the flame.

Harry stared at that page angrily. It was now January and Harry was once again in Dumbledore's rooms. The old wizard was sprawled out across the king-sized purple bed.

'You know you could have defended me.' Harry hissed.

'Harry, enough. It was months ago' Dumbledore said.

'I serious, it's not easy for me. Everyone thinks you just left me, and let everyone think...'

'ENOUGH! I'm tired Harry and I don't want to discuss this.' Dumbledore snapped. Harry sighed, he knew there was no winning this argument.

He pulled another green vial from the draw. He watched with morbid fascination as the liquid poured into his vein. The world became hazy and distant.

'Slow down Harry' Dumbledore said, snatching the needle away. 'I'm leaving tomorrow, but I wanted us to have tonight at least'

'You're leaving again!' Harry yelled. 'No, I told you I need you here!'

SMACK

the sound of the older man's hand hitting Harry's face echoed for a second.

'Pull yourself together! That is over everyone knows now about Voldemort's return. He will mobilise his forces soon and I don't have time to spare. And yet I've chosen to spend my time with you. Can't you be a little more grateful' Dumbledore snapped. He looked Harry's naked body up and down 'Turn around' he whispered.

'Sir I don't think I want to do this tonight' Harry said, Dumbledore pushed him down onto the desk. 'Sir I'm really not...'

'Shut up' Dumbledore muttered.

'Albus, I say Albus are you awake!... there's something I really need to talk to you about' Slughorn's voice called out from the office.

'Damn it, Horace' Dumbledore hissed, he quickly pulled his robe around him. 'Stay there Potter' Dumbledore said sharply. 'Ah Horace, what can I do for you at this late hour' Dumbledore's voice carried through the now-closed door.

Harry lay there for a moment, belly still pressed against the desk. His brows pulled into a tight scowl. He quickly slipped into his robe and stuffed the needle and as many vials as he could into his pockets. His eyes darted to the closed door, then to the window. He knew the room well enough to know there was no other exit. He picked up his wand.

'Accio' he whispered. Harry stood there for a minute, his pulse thrumming making him dizzy as he waited, staring out into the empty black night. Finally, his broom swooped in under the windowsill.

Harry grinned as he jumped onto the broom and flew away. The Fugere hit Harry as soon as he got up to speed. It was like time stopped, a part of Harry knew he wasn't fit to fly but he was just so desperate to get away.

Harry made it less than 100 feet before the broom lurched forwards suddenly and Harry went spinning through a glass window. He lay in a heap on the floor for a few seconds. He knew there was blood trickling down his face but he couldn't feel anything at first, just a fuzzy warm sort of haze.

Then all of a sudden it started to hurt. Harry grabbed for the Fugere, if he was high enough he couldn't feel anything. He injected another vial. Harry couldn't see the room he was in, but he knew it was spinning now. He staggered along the hall and into a nearby bathroom. Hands shaking as he reached out for a wall, something to steady himself.

He stopped, he heard something.

Crying.

'Draco?' Harry said.

Draco's head snapped up, he shot a spell at Harry, Harry ducked almost completely losing his balance. Harry fired back without thinking. Spells flew back and forth, the air lighting up with flashes and snaps.

Harry fired spell after spell, not even sure what he was doing.

Draco collapsed to the ground with a sudden scream. Blood gushing out of various deep slashes. Harry gasped in shock. He wasn't sure if it was even real. Harry collapsed onto the floor next to Draco. He slipped another vial out of his pocket. Hands shaking as he did so.

A tall imposing figure appeared behind Harry

'Potter' Snape said darkly, he pushed Harry out of the way leaned over Draco's bleeding body, and softly muttered a counter curse. Draco coughed and sputtered, staggering onto his knees.

'Is that Fugere' Draco said a look of fear crossing his face.

'No Draco it's a blueberry scone.' Harry said with a smirk.

'It's Quaerentibus Fugere. Potter that shit's dangerous!' Draco said as struggled to his feet. Swaying back and forth a little. Dizzy from the blood loss.

'It's fine, I'm fine' Harry said as the vial slipped from his fingers smashing onto the floor. All of a sudden Harry's entire body went limp. He laughed quietly to himself. Then everything melted into a black haze.

'Potter! Where did you get that?' Snape snapped as he pulled a half-empty vial from Harry's hands.

'Potter! Potter' Draco yelled...

three weeks later

Harry held back a yawn, fidgeting a little in his chair.

'It's like, I have so much pressure on me right now. To like get good grades and everything else... and I guess I didn't know how else to handle it' Daphney's voice rang out.

'Well, Daphne that's what we're here for. To give you the tools you need to...' Harry sighed, louder than he had intended. The therapist glared at Harry. 'To help you to cope with these difficulties.' Daphne nodded. 'Harry, you seem eager to make yourself heard'

'No thank you Madame Brookes' Harry said quietly.

'Harry you've been here for 3 weeks now and you've barely said a word. You need to start participating' Madame Brookes said.

'I'm good, Thanks' Harry said tersely. Madame Brookes scowled.

'Potter this is group sharing, we need to contribute as a group.' Madame Brookes said in her shrill voice.

'Well, I not going to sit here and talk about the burden of having two healthy living parents if that's what you want.' Harry snapped back.

'Potter we understand it must have been difficult to lose your parents, but please don't minimise other people's struggles.'

'Struggles? oh please,' Harry said chuckling a little as he did. Madame Brooke sighed.

'Potter, see me in my office after group' Madame Brookes said before turning her attention back to Daphne. Harry rolled his eyes, he tried to tune the rest of the meeting out. After several weeks in rehab, Harry had concluded that therapy was bullshit, and Snape and Malfoy had talked him into the biggest mistake of his life when they had confronted him about his drug use. When given the choice, he should have gone with prison it would be less hassle.

After another half hour of sharing and crying and other things that made Harry feel a little nauseous, the group meeting ended. Madame Brookes went around the room and thanked the other patients, when she was finished she glared at Harry then stomped off into her office.

Harry trailed in after her, dragging his feet on the dingy off-white floor tiles.

'Right Potter, so you've been here for what... 3 weeks now?' Brookes said, picking up a bright blue quill. She began to scratch out little notes onto the page in front of her.

'Erm yes,' Harry said.

'And so far, you refuse to talk about your drug use or your plans for after rehab or any issues in your personal life that may be a possible trigger for drug use'

'We that's not exactly...'

'No, no Potter, that wasn't a question' Brookes said without looking up from her notes. 'So why don't you want to talk?'

'I... I just don't think there's anything I or you could say that would help me. And besides, I like it better when my private matters stay private and not on the cover of the daily fucking prophet' Harry said bitterly.

'Harry you know everything said here is confidential.'

'No Madame Brookes, everything I say to you is confidential. Everything I say in group sessions will be a headline by morning.'

Brookes' eyes narrowed to slits. 'Alright, you don't wanna do group therapy. That's just fine.' Brookes handed Harry a brown folder. 'This is a new reform project, you will either be a part of it or You can do a year in jail.'

'And what if I want to stay here?' Harry asked without looking at the folder.

'Potter please, you've been here for almost a month, you've made no discernible progress. Pretty much the only thing you've succeeded in is upsetting the other patients. Plus I don know how you're doing it but you're clearly still using.'

'That's a fucking lie!' Harry yelled. 'I've been depressingly sober since I got here'

'Potter you've thrown up 4 times this week and you won't let anyone near enough to examine you. So I don't know how you're getting the Fugere in here but clearly this program isn't helping you. And quite frankly you're a threat to the sobriety of the other patients.' Brookes said she opened the door with a wave of her wand. 'Look if I were you I would take the new program. It'll be a lot easier than prison. Now get out of my office'

Harry staggered out of the office, he flicked the file open, he groaned as he realised that it was almost 50 pages of fine print. He flicked his fingers sharply casting a quick wandless spell which dropped the information from the file straight into his mind.

'What' Harry said as the words raced through his mind.

Experimental correctional program. Designated Co-operative Rehabilitation, the program hopes to offer a more affordable alternative to current correctional methods.

'Blah blah blah' Harry muttered to himself as he skimmed past pages and pages of innocuous details. Ending on a note that Harry did not expect to see. He rushed back to the office. 'Erm Madame Brookes'

'What Potter?'

'Why the fuck does this thing say that I'm supposed to spend time with Lucius Malfoy?' Harry yelled.

'Language Potter' Brookes said with a glare.

'But he's in prison' Harry snapped

'He's getting out'

'Why?'

Brookes sighed. 'I don't know Potter someone decided that he and you would make good candidates for their new project. Personally, I can think of a 100 wizards more deserving of the opportunity, but I guess it helps to know the right people.' Brookes said slamming her desk draw shut. 'Look Potter, you're only 16 and you don't have a lot of options left.'

Harry scoffed 'Yeah, I don't really see how spending time with Malfoy counts as an option.'

'Potter, it's Malfoy or prison pick one.