Author's Note: It looks like the muse is on this story at the moment, as scenes are coming rather quickly to it. I hope everyone has been enjoying the result.

I'd like to thank the following for assistance with this chapter: MoKR, Matt Arnold, and georgy grl.

This chapter has been updated as of July 30, 2018


Chapter Twelve Departing the End

Doctor Cherita Chalice looked over her notes on her two cases for the summer. She'd told young Snape that his charges were ready for reduced treatment, and it was incumbent upon her to make sure that her treatment was properly documented in the young Gryffindors' medical records. She would be visiting Poppy in just a few days, after the two had left Spinner's End to spend the last three weeks of their Summer at the Weasley's.

She was the only one that knew the actual identities of young Snape's "nieces" outside of his household on Spinner's End. It had been a quite thorough disguise, though Cherita had been quite concerned, in fact was still concerned, about the gender change given to Harry Potter. Potter had enough identity issues with being the Boy-Who-Lived with out adding Who-Hid-As-A-Girl. In a way, though, it had helped him a bit by allowing him to find himself without anyone impressing their views of him on him.

Potter had never really had a chance to develop on his own. He'd been abused from his toddler days on, mainly by his recently deceased uncle, with some abuse from his aunt and cousin. Cherita believed that his aunt and cousin's abuse was in the main either projected by the uncle's orders or the result of imitating the parents in the case of his cousin. She was a bit worried about the fact that as part of his cover, Potter would have to spend a couple more days at Privet Drive. She'd tried to prepare him for dealing with encountering those secondary abusers, and hoped that without the big brute who had beat Potter there, there wouldn't be any more instances.

The fact that Harry had been having regular phone calls with his cousin, Dudley, was encouraging. Apparently Dudley had somehow ended up taking over what had been Harry's job of cooking dinner. Harry had treated Cherita to some rather amusing stories of his cousin's mishaps in the kitchen. It seemed that the oven, like a lot of ovens, ran just a bit hot, and Dudley hadn't adjusted for a few meals that he'd tried outside of Harry's cheat cards.

Harry was a good cook. Cherita had been treated to Harry's apple pie. She was sure that if not anything else, two days of Harry's cooking would assure much better behavior on the part of the remaining Dursleys. Still, Cherita intended to visit Harry once he left Privet Drive just to make sure.

Harry Potter wasn't her primary patient, and he definitely wasn't the patient who had needed the most this summer. Cherita had come out of retirement to deal with the aftermath of a possession, and of a horocrux at that. Of course she hadn't known that it was a horocrux until she'd been treating Ginny Weasley for several days. When Albus had finally come to Spinner's End, she'd given him quite a blistering for it. Albus had been most contrite about it. He'd also asked her, for the fortieth time, if she'd take her practice to Hogwarts, at least for the year.

She was strongly considering it. Just from the treatment she'd given Potter and Weasley, she'd identified a half dozen other students who could use treatment of a mind healer. It was a shame that Hogwarts had as much a hard time getting a mind healer to even sign up to work at Hogwarts as it had getting a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor to last over a year.


Ginny looked forward to going back home, unlike Harry, who was not sure he really wanted to ever go back to Privet Drive. She didn't quite understand why. Vernon Dursley was dead, after all. Still, he'd already finished packing, and his announcement of the fact had ended her excuses for not packing yet.

Ginny Weasley had never before had an issue fitting everything in her trunk. When she'd packed for Hogwarts there had been noticeable room in her trunk. She'd thought that was normal, until she'd seen what the other girls in her dorm had. She'd had the three sets of plain black work robes (new! girls robes were different than boys robes and couldn't be handed down from Ron!), her pointed hat, dragon hide gloves (sent to her directly from the source by her brother Charlie!), and her winter cloak with silver fastenings, that all students required.

Everything else was where her clothes differed. Her two white shirts were actually boys shirts, originally purchased for Fred and George. She had three skirts, bought second hand, that might have been black once, but now were gray, and some gray trousers for when it got colder. She had three jumpers, lovingly made by her mother, and lots of warm socks. She hadn't had a bra, unlike Wisteria, who flaunted the fact that she already needed one on day one of her first year. She had week and a day's worth of perfectly serviceable panties, though she'd discovered that pink wasn't the best color to have.

Her clothes were positively sparse compared to her dorm mates, but she had enough to wear. Wisteria alone had nineteen, nineteen! blouses. Hortense had enough panties that she'd claimed that she didn't have to have them washed for a month. But what had really made Ginny jealous was what her muggleborn dormmate Lauren had. Those tightly fit genuine Levi stone washed jeans had been coveted by all the girls in that dorm room.

Now, on her way home from Spinner's End, for the first time, Ginny was having to pack carefully. She was sure everything would fit, but everything had to be placed properly, especially the books and the potions vials. Ginny was quite proud of her potions work with the Professor this summer. She'd known she had been pretty good with potions, but like a lot of her first year, she'd been unsure if it was her work, or the result of her possession. Now she was sure, really sure, that she was good with potions. Apparently good enough that the Professor was going to talk to her parents about something special. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was apparently serious, and because she was good.

Ginny was well aware that none of her brothers like Professor Snape. That was a shame, because his summer potions tutorials were great. It was so different from Hogwarts. The smaller groups really made things easier, and Ginny had enjoyed even working along side the dunderheads in Slytherin, as the Professor called them, but only after they left. The Professor then admitted that there were a lot less dunderheads at Hogwarts than he let on, and even those could sometimes show him a flash of something that led him to wish they'd be that way much more often.

Ginny shifted a t-shirt over, one with a dragon who had a fork and bottle of ketchup in his hands with the simple word, "Cruchy" on under the image. That covered her two remaining bras so she wouldn't be teased by Fred and George when they opened her trunk. They weren't supposed to, but if they spotted them now, she'd be able to claim that they were looking around in her trunk, and they knew that Mum would make their lives miserable if she could claim that. She closed the trunk, and sat on the lid so she could fasten the two leather straps tightly. There was no way she'd be able to take everything to Hogwarts that she had in that trunk now, but she certainly was going to make sure that all four pairs of her Levi jeans made the trip. They were good, strong, and she liked the way she looked in them. She just hoped she wouldn't outgrow them too soon.

She was now ready to go home, and just in time as she heard her mum's voice greeting the Professor. She'd be home within the hour. Harry would leave just after her, and as soon as he was a boy again, would be joining her at the Burrow, just in time for her birthday. There was no way that Harry would miss her birthday party. He'd promised.


Harry Potter appeared along side Professor Snape in the parlor of Number Four Privet Drive. He hadn't wanted to return, but the Professor had insisted that changing back to being a boy there was the best place for it to happen. He had managed to secure a promise to go to the Burrow within a couple days of becoming a boy again. Promising to attend Ginny's birthday party had been amazingly successful at setting the matter.

It was different appearing there, now that Harry knew that Vernon was dead. Aunt Petunia's white sofa was covered with a scarlet slip cover and placed on the opposite side of the room, which Harry thought strange. Vernon's chair was gone, replaced with a rocking chair that Harry knew used to be in his Aunt and Uncle's bedroom. The telly was angled a bit different, and there was a flower arrangement on the mantle that had never been there before. It looked like the flowers were fresh cut from the front garden. The lace on the end tables had been dyed to match the scarlet of the slip cover. It looked almost like a different room.

Through the archway he could see that the leaf had been taken out of the dining room table for the first time ever, and it had been turned a bit before being covered by painter's drop cloths. Looking back at the parlor, it appeared that someone had already taken a paint brush to those walls, covering the striped wall paper that Harry knew had been his Uncle Verno's choice with a full coat of goldenrod paint on all walls save the one with the fire place. There was a smell of fresh paint in the air.

Dudley poked his head around the corner. "Hey Harry," he said. "Sorry about the mess. Mum wanted to change things around so it doesn't remind her of things. I'm just setting up to do the dining room. Mum wants it ready to paint by the time she gets back from the grocers."

"Let me put something old on and I'll help," Harry replied.

"Remember, stick to dresses and skirts, loose clothing," Professor Snape ordered. "No panties, unless you want to be crushed. You should be changing back in eight to thirty-two hours, but I could be off, and you don't want to return to being a boy with tight clothes on below. It's quite possible that your growth as a girl will carry over when the potion ends. Call me as soon as you're a boy again so I can check to make sure the potion has left your system."

"Yes Professor," Harry replied. Professor Snape nodded, and then disappeared with a crack. Harry headed upstairs with his trunk to the room he'd spent just one night in thus far in the summer. There wasn't much change, save that it looked like someone had put the sheets from the guest room on his bed.

He opened the trunk and pulled out an old gray t-shirt. As a boy it probably would have been long enough for him to not wear anything else, but as a girl he was four inches taller than he had been as a boy. It might be long enough if he was standing, but not otherwise, and he didn't intend to give Dudley another free view of his privates at least as long as he was still a girl. So a quick search through his skirts brought up a tan one that he wouldn't mind getting paint on. Not that he thought he'd be wearing them again soon, but he wanted to keep his new clothes as nice as he could, even if they were girls clothes.

As he pulled up the skirt, he heard the car pull up in the driveway below his window. Looking out the window, he spotted his Aunt Petunia opening up the boot. They must have really been down on groceries if Aunt Petunia had chosen to fill the boot instead of the back seat. He walked down the stairs, calling out, "Dudley, Aunt Petunia's back from the grocers."

Out the front door he went. He didn't bother to ask, it was one of his long time expected duties to help take in the groceries. He was surprised though, when his aunt put back down the bag she was taking out of the boot and hugged him. Aunt Petunia had never hugged him before, but here she was, arms around his back, pulling him into a nearly as tight hug as Mrs. Weasley did.

"It's good to see you Harry," Aunt Petunia whispered, before letting go. Then louder, she continued, "Help me bring this in, Harikleia, and if you can get Dudley to join you, it would be most appreciated."

"Hey, I'm getting better," Dudley said, stepping into the sunlight from the house. "The drop cloths are down and I think we're ready to paint."

"Good, we'll start on it as soon as all the groceries are put away," Petunia said, entering the house with the bag full of dairy products. "Harry, do you have a color that you'd like for your room? I know you won't be here long this summer, but Dudley and I are repainting the rest of the house, so we might as well do yours."

Harry followed behind with a bag full of frozen meat. "Why are you repainting?" he asked.

"I needed to redo the parlor, because, well, never mind, and once we painted over most of the wall paper, I started to notice how dingy it was in most of the house. Paint's cheap, moving isn't."

Harry looked around the place as he went out to get another bag. Every picture with Uncle Vernon in it was gone. Some of them had been replaced with ones with just Petunia and Dudley. He got another bag and went back in, looking at the entryway from a different perspective. There was a set of three photos in frame across from the cupboard under the stairs. Before Uncle Vernon had occupied the center spot, but now Aunt Petunia had taken the place, and where she had been was replaced with Harry's school picture from the year before he went to Hogwarts.

Harry stopped, staring at the first picture of himself that he'd ever seen hanging at Privet Drive. He had always got a brand new uniform for the picture, as it wouldn't do for him to look like a vagabond in his hand-me-down from Dudley ill fitting clothes. His glasses had actually been new at the time, and he wore a rather nice deep green polo shirt. Opposite Aunt Petunia was Dudley's picture from the same year, but Harry barely noticed it, his eyes focused on his own picture. It was part of a family grouping together, something he'd never felt part of.

Before he wouldn't have let himself cry, looking at the picture, but after his time on Spinner's End, he wasn't holding back anymore. A tear ran down his cheek. A hand suddenly rested on his shoulder, and Aunt Petunia said softly, "That's the way it should have been, and will be from now on." She gently herded him into the kitchen. "Now let's get this up so we can be done painting before dinner."


Petunia stationed Harry in the kitchen to put up the groceries. To be perfectly honest, the kitchen had been arranged more for his use than anyone else's. It only took a look for her to get Dudley to join her in taking care of bringing in the rest of the bags. As she passed back through the entryway, the edge of her gaze caught the cupboard under the stairs. She'd already cleaned it out. There was nothing in it anymore but an expanse of hardwood flooring. It was her intention that there wouldn't be a cupboard under the stairs when she was done.

Ever since Petunia had apologized to Harry at Vernon's funeral, she had focused on making sure that her nephew would have a chance to feel welcome in her house. Getting rid of Vernon's picture throughout the house was her first step. It was not one that she'd taken just because of Harry though. Vernon hadn't just abused Harry, though Petunia did not think she could admit to anyone what had happened to her when she hadn't followed Vernon's orders. There was a reason Dudley was an only child, and it was not because Vernon hadn't tried, but because of other things he'd done. She could have had three more children if it wasn't for him.

The next thing she'd done was to get rid of the sterile white throughout the house. She wanted the house to be warm and welcoming, not the formal entertain the bosses and clients that Vernon had insisted on. So on went the scarlet sofa cover, a purchase years before that she'd gotten a bruised rib after. The goldenrod paint had already hit the parlor, and would soon hit the walls of the dining room, though there it would only be on top. She'd chosen a warm brown that matched the cupboards in the kitchen to go below the chair rail.

She'd repainted the master suite herself, not even letting Dudley see her do it, and she was not exactly proud of the results. She'd moved the bed, which hadn't been the most painless thing she'd ever tried, and replaced the bedding. Petunia was not going to sleep under that blue willow patterned quilt. She was never warm enough under it, and she hated the pattern. If it wasn't for the cost, she would have gotten rid of her dishes too. It was very fortunate that the mattress had been replaced barely a month before Vernon had died.

Her next task, she decided, starting tomorrow they were taking out the cupboard under the stairs. That meant they'd probably have to put off painting the area below the chair rail, but there was no hurry on that part. She put the last bag on the counter top. "Boys," Petunia said, despite the fact that Harry was her niece at the moment, he was still a boy. Dudley had certainly told her that enough. "We'll just do the top this afternoon. Dudley, make sure Harry knows how to paint and the mark to go down to. I'll take the door wall, and you two can take the other. We'll have to get the ladder to do the archway."

Petunia looked around, and couldn't see where it had gotten to. It had only been a day since they'd finished the parlor and that side of the archway. "Dudley, where is the ladder?" she asked. Dudley had insisted that she stop calling him the nicknames, stating that he was the man of the house now, and it wasn't right. For the most part, she was remembering to do so.

"In the garage," Dudley replied. "Oh, Mr. Polkiss said he'll pay twenty pounds for Dad's old chair."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," Petunia said. She so wanted to get rid of that chair. The black leather monstrosity was the first thing she'd moved out of the parlor. "Harry, tonight I want to take a new family picture, so before we start dinner, change into something nice."

"Aunt Petunia, I'm not likely to change back until late tonight," Harry replied. "I'll be a girl in it."

"We'll do another when you change back, though we might have to get you a few new clothes first," Petunia considered. She was sure that the hand-me-down shirt Harry was wearing was one that Dudley had ruined a couple years back. It had looked good on Dudley when it was new, but the gray shirt with the juice stain looked entirely different on the female form of her niece. It was loose enough so it wasn't really stretching across her breasts. A rather awful peach-ish tan skirt peaked out from under the skirt. "And that skirt better not be in the picture. Something in the greens if you've got it. Dudley, shirt and tie, the one from your school uniform, not the bow tie."

"You know, Dudley, this year's Gryffindor tie is very close to yours ," Harry said, as they began to paint. "Professor Snape gave me the new one as a birthday gift. I still have to get my uniform, though couldn't exactly get it as a girl. I have no need for another set of white blouses and a skirt."

"I should hope not," Petunia said, carefully cutting in the paint around the edge of the wall. "Though I expect you to be properly attired as a girl." She caught Harry blushing. It was obvious to her that Harry knew way more about girl things than any boy should, even without recalling the phone call that she had gotten from Professor Snape.

"Just don't look up my skirt," Harry replied.

"We know better," Petunia said, before silence descended upon the group. It didn't actually take long to paint the upper part of the dining room walls the dining room. There was after all only one full wall, no wall between it and the kitchen, and the other two walls had openings of various sizes.

Soon enough both Harry and Dudley were dismissed to change. Petunia changed as well, putting on a burgundy blouse that Vernon hadn't liked. Dudley was already back on the ground floor fiddling with the camera in the parlor. There was a place on the book case opposite her rocking chair that had long allowed the family to take pictures with the timer. There were so many of them in the photo album, with Vernon sitting in his chair and Petunia and Dudley posed around him. She supposed that they could have had Harry take the picture, but Vernon didn't want him to touch the camera. It was almost enough to make Harry take this picture, but this was one of the new family pictures, and Harry was family.

Petunia took her seat in the rocking chair and waited for Harry to come down. As soon as she came around the corner into the parlor, Petunia's jaw dropped. When Harry had been transformed at the beginning of summer, she'd clearly looked a lot like her mother, but was through the haze of memory, and Petunia had thought that it was an illusion. Now, with the white blouse, Gryffindor tie, and pleated black skirt, only her glasses made her look different than her mother. She was silent for a moment as Harry smoothed down her skirt in the front.

"New glasses, Harry?" Petunia asked, noting that he had gold frames instead of the black ones that she'd picked from the charity bin. Harry nodded. "Right side of me, Harry. Dudley, stop fiddling and set the timer. You've done it before."

"Yes Mum," Dudley replied, before racing back to her side. He took a position to her left, and placed his arm around her shoulders. The camera flashed three times in quick succession. "Hopefully one of those are good."

"I'm sure one will be," Petunia said, getting up to pick up the camera. "Now, I'd like a couple good pictures of each of you ... perhaps on the steps to even up the heights a bit." Harry was about four or five inches taller than Dudley as a girl, though she was sure that Dudley would pass her, and Harry would drop back down when he was a boy again.

With a couple more pictures it was time to make dinner, and to Petunia's great surprise, she was pushed out of the kitchen. Dudley and Harry were going to cook a meal together for her. She'd had a few meals cooked by Dudley when she was sick with grief, and they hadn't been half bad. Still she'd taken back over the kitchen as soon as she could. It was nice, however, to have a son who could cook, even if it was by the grace of a few note cards and a phone call to his cousin.

As they cooked, she decided it was time to make another announcement. "Tomorrow, Harry, we're removing the cupboard under the stairs."