Author's Note: This particular part may have been the quickest produced chapter since the third chapter's original draft. The muse has been good. At this point I've got just about ten scenes left in this story... well nine, as one of them got written early out of sequence.

I'd like to thank the following people for assisting in the writing of this chapter: Matt Arnold and Starfire Wolf.

This chapter was updated on July 31, 2018


Chapter Thirteen Condition Reverted

Dudley had been attempting to get in shape. His father's heart attack had scared him, especially when the doctor had cited his father's weight as a complicating factor. He'd started eating a lot healthier, and ever morning he got up at five twenty-five to jog on a four kilometer course through the neighborhood. At first it had taken him a long time, and he'd cursed himself for starting such a long path. Now it was starting to feel easier, and he managed to get it done in just under thirty-five minutes. He'd already lost an inch around his waist and seven pounds.

Since his father's death, Dudley had been trying to change. If it wasn't for what he'd seen just before his father had died, he might not have tried, but those scars on Harry's back had kept coming to mind. He'd heard Snape's words about what he saw in his father's mind. It made him feel so sick. He'd been in the parlor after his mum had called for the ambulance, and heard his father's mumbles about what he was going to do to everyone, including Dudley.

Dudley had often been told that he was just like his father. He wasn't sure he wanted to be just like his father anymore. His father had been a bigoted, child-abusing, bully, Dudley could see that now. He wondered why he hadn't seen it before. Was he such a self-centered, spoiled child that he couldn't see what was in front of him? Why had it taken his father's death for him to see it?

He wondered if he was doomed to be just like his father. Would he be so focused on being normal that he couldn't see the magic in the world when he grew up? Dudley didn't want to be like that. He'd occasionally been scared by his cousin's magic, but after Harry had explained how accidental magic worked, he'd thought back to those times and realized that he'd probably brought most of those scary events on himself. He'd talked to Harry about magic, in general, and wished Harry would have been able to show him some of the things he could do, and see some of the things he had seen.

He'd laughed when Harry had told the tale of Norbert, the baby dragon, but he'd also found himself envious. Oh what he would do with a dragon. Away at Smeltings he'd discovered the works of Anne McCaffrey, and been hooked to the point that he'd missed breakfast and been late to class after staying up late to finish that last chapter of The White Dragon. True, real magical dragons were not like Ruth, and he was not Jaxom, but idea of riding dragons wouldn't leave him.

As he reentered the house, he headed back up stairs for a quick shower, passing Harry who had apparently just gotten up. "Good Morning Harry."

Dudley Dursley wasn't exactly sure how you were supposed to act toward your cousin. He'd tried the best friend model, over the phone, but once Harry had arrived, it was just a bit awkward. It hadn't helped that he kept being reminded of the first time he'd seen his cousin as a girl. It had also been the first time he'd seen a naked girl, and much to his embarrassment, the memory had been featured in way too many of his teenage dreams.

It hadn't helped that last night Harry had just worn a towel between the bathroom and his bedroom. Of course, he'd done the same. They'd always done the same, actually. That being said, Dudley knew he was a fat boy, way out of shape, where as Harry at the moment was a gorgeous girl, who had wrapped his towel around his body like he was a boy, not a girl. With that long red hair, perfect athletic figure, and those green eyes ... Dudley had never realized how captivating eyes could be. It was his cousin though, so he'd tried not to stare.

"Good Morning Dud," Harry replied, before he stretched and yawned. That caused his cousin's breasts to push out, and he could tell she wasn't wearing a bra at the moment. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Half a grapefruit and tall glass of orange juice, but I better take a shower first," Dudley said. He slid into the bathroom and dropped his shorts and underpants before starting the cold shower that he needed for more reasons than one. Why did his cousin have to make such a good looking girl?

After the shower was done, Dudley joined Harry in the kitchen, sitting on a stool next to the counter while Harry looked over the kitchen. Somehow seeing Harry in his element, pulling cards out with various recipes on them from the recipe box that his mother had recently added to the counter, made him seem more like family than a hot girl who happened to be the first and only girl he'd seen naked as a teenager.

"So, Dudley, I promised you an apple pie," Harry said. "It looks like we've got all the ingredients, so if Aunt Petunia doesn't mind."

"What would I not mind?" Petunia asked as she entered the kitchen, her hair still up on curlers.

"If I baked an apple pie," Harry said. "It will only take about fifteen-twenty minutes to prepare and I don't think it would interfere with removing the cupboard while it baked.

"Please, let him bake it, you know how good it is!" Dudley said. He'd been reminded of it when Hermione Granger had accidentally dialed Privet Drive instead of Spinner's End to thank Harry for the pie he'd sent home with her on his birthday. That's when he'd realized that he'd forgotten to call Harry back on his birthday. Harry had been out when he'd attempted to call in the morning.

"On the contention that you do not eat all of it," Petunia said, before switching to looking at Harry. "And I want that recipe. It wasn't in the cards I found in the cupboard."

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry replied in the same tone Dudley had always heard him use to respond to an order from Dudley's parents.

His mother frowned at the tone. "That's not an order Harry. I know cooks are supposed to have a few secrets. Lord knows I never got my mother's beef stew, and your mother had a blue berry tart that she made that she refused to tell me ever."

"Oh," Harry said. Dudley had never seen that particular expression on Harry. It was a mix of puzzled and surprise. Then the expression changed to an uncertain smile. "Wait a moment." Then Harry sped out of the kitchen. From the sound of the stairs he took at least three at a time going upwards. There was a sound of wood hitting wood came from upstairs, followed by at least three books dropping to the floor.

Then Harry returned to the kitchen in pounding of feet that Dudley had only heard before as Harry tried to escape his friends hunting him. The red hair swung around Harry's face as he came to a stop, a hand written card in the hand outstretched to his mother. Dudley could see the title. "EP Secret Blueberry Tart."

"Is this it?" Harry asked. "I found it in the fourth year transfiguration book that she left at Professor Snape's."

"It might be," his mother asked, with an expression that Dudley generally only saw on his mother when he did something especially well. "What do you say we make it this evening? I always liked to have it with the evening meal."

"That's a lot of dessert though," Harry noted. "You have the twelve inch pie pans, and I'm probably only going to be here for two more days."

"We'll eat it soon enough," Dudley's mother said. "Now, I'd like some sausage and eggs this morning, and make sure you have enough of them for yourself. You're a growing teenager, who shouldn't be trying to loose weight. Put some more meat on those bones."


Ginny Weasley woke up in her room after getting the best night sleep she'd ever had. In fact she'd woken up naturally just as the scent of her mother cooking breakfast reached her. She stretched as she sat up on her bed, accidentally knocking Captain off his perch on one of the bed posts. She hadn't needed to hold her stuffed kangaroo when she got to sleep last night. She hadn't even had to get some warm milk to make her sleepy.

She took her bathrobe from the hook on the back of her door, and put it on over her sheer nightgown, part of the complete set of clothes she'd received as part of her treatment for her cover as one of Snape's nieces. She hadn't expected to get night clothes, but as the Professor had said, it wouldn't have looked right to skip that when the cover for the purchase was that her and Harry's clothes had gone up in a fire. The bathrobe wasn't from that purchase. She hadn't worn a bathrobe at Spinner's End.

Down the spiral staircase she pranced. She was sure it was going to be a good day at the Burrow. "Good Morning Mum," she said joyfully as she entered the kitchen.

"Good Morning Ginny," her mother said, pulling her in for a brief hug. "Did you sleep well?" Her favorite breakfast of sausage, eggs, and toast was quickly plated, and handed over.

"The best," Ginny replied, before digging in. The Prophet was already on the kitchen table, and she looked at the front page. Apparently Hogwarts had announced that they had gotten rid of a curse they had found on the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professorship. Some cursed items had also been found, related to You-Know-Who. Dumbledore was suggesting that perhaps a group should be put together to make sure such items were collected and taken care of. He was planning on nominating the curse breaker who had broke the curse for an Order of Merlin.

"Hey firebug," Ginny heard her oldest brother say as he came up behind her, messing up her hair, just as she turned the paper over so she could read below the fold.

Ginny stood and hugged her brother. "Bill, I didn't know you were home," Ginny said, before letting him sit down beside her.

"Been here all summer, actually," Bill replied. "Bit of a disappointment not having my favorite younger sister around to get in trouble with, but I understand she got an opportunity to spend most of the summer with her crush, the Boy-Who-Lived, and couldn't pass it up." Ginny giggled, and Bill placed an arm around her, before he continued softer. "I know what happened at school this year, and I'm glad you got help to deal with the aftermath of possession by You-Know-Who."

"How did you find out?" Ginny asked. She was sure her mum and dad wouldn't have told, even though Bill was her brother. That left Ron blurting it out.

"I overheard Ron asking where you'd gone," Bill said, "and I know what a horocrux does. I've had to get rid of a few since I became a curse breaker. And don't blame Ron for telling tales. If it wasn't for him, the hunt wouldn't have begun."

"The hunt?" Ginny asked.

Bill tapped on the copy of the Prophet, and directed her attention to his picture, probably from his time as Head Boy, above an article that had been below the fold. It was titled, "Gringotts Cruse Breaker Handles Cursed Objects"

"Oh," Ginny replied, before hugging him again.

"Now, since you have been spending some time with the Boy-Who-Lived, firebug, I assume you got that kiss you've been wanting?" Bill teased.

"No, and I really should have got one when he saved me in the Chamber of Secrets," Ginny said, trying to sound serious. "But he promised me that he'd give me one for my birthday ... so don't stop him." Kissing Harry hadn't exactly been on her agenda at Spinner's End. She had got that one promise out of Harry, though, unintentionally, due to an offhand comment while Doctor Chalice had both of them together eating ice cream sundaes after both of their sessions.

And the rescued girl was supposed to get the kiss from the hero after she was rescued. It was in all the stories. Harry had admitted that he would have tried waking her with a kiss, if she hadn't woken first, too.

"Well, I got a bonus for my work, and I've kind of splurged a bit to get a new broom," Bill said. "And Mum, I did put a lot into my vault, but my old Cleansweep Five got destroyed. So I got a Firebolt. Want to try it after breakfast, Ginny? Madam Hooch seemed to think you could handle it."

Ginny was sure that her smile was very wide as she answered, "Oh yes!" She'd read all about the Firebolt in the copy of Which Broomstick that one of the Slytherins had left behind at Spinner's End. It could go from nought to one hundred and fifty miles per hour in ten seconds, and could stop on a sickle. There was no way she would turn down riding that broom.


The Cupboard under the stairs had been completely empty when Harry first looked at it. It was strange to bend down into the cupboard and see nothing inside. Harry remembered when his head hadn't even been tall enough to hit the top of the door. Now that door was going away. Aunt Petunia had told him that she would understand if he took out the wall rather explosively, but would prefer if it were removed carefully, as the hardwood floors went under the partition wall, and might be usable.

Harry had very mixed feelings about the cupboard. It was his place of confinement, but it was also his refuge. He'd often been slammed into it, locked in it, but he'd never been ripped out of it. There were drawings under the stairs that he'd personalized his space with, some of which he thought were quite good. And of course there was the one just to the right of the door, that read "Harry's Room" denoting it as his space, no others. And now it was going to go away. True, he now had Dudley's second bedroom as his own, but it really wasn't his space.

So it was with great care that he removed each part of the partition. The hinges were detached, the removed pin shooting up to nearly hit the ceiling when just a little more force than expected was required. The tongue and grove paneling was removed, section by section, revealing two pieces of artwork that he'd made deep within the cupboard, as well as the studs. One was of Merlin and a child Arthur, based on a movie that he'd once snuck out to watch, the other of Mary with a baby Jesus that shared Harry's scar.

He tried to hide them under the other pieces, but no sooner had he turned around to remove the last piece, then his aunt said, "Those are great drawings, Harry. I'll have to have them preserved."

He turned around and in a soft tentative voice, asked. "Really?" He looked up at his aunt with disbelief. Aunt Petunia had never complimented him on his work before. His teachers had praised his work, but never his aunt, to the point that by the time he was nine, he'd given up on trying to make the detailed fancy drawings in crayon. These two had been the last two he'd smuggled home and hidden for his own enjoyment. His vision wavered as tears filled his eyes.

"Really," Aunt Petunia said, pulling Harry up into a hug. "You're quite an artist."

Harry found himself crying into his aunt's shoulder, as she held him tight, rubbing his back as he let out long held back emotion. His aunt did like him. It wasn't a dream or some words said in the middle of trauma, but she could actually compliment him on something he made. He wasn't just there to be a beast of burden, to cook, and take abuse. He could be creative. He could make something that people liked, and not just be an object to hang whatever abuse or anything on, regardless of what he actually did.

Once he pulled back, something was different though. In fact for just a moment he was out of balance. Looking down, he discovered that his breasts were gone, and with a cool breeze up the skirt he'd put on in the morning, he could tell that he had his parts back instead a hole where they had been. Looking upwards, he caught a strand of black hair instead of the red he'd had as a girl. Harry Potter was back.

"It looks like your time as a girl is over, Harry," Aunt Petunia said softly. "Do you want to go upstairs and change?"

"Can you call Professor Snape?" Harry asked, standing up straight and having to adjust his stance slightly. "He needs to make sure the change back was right. I'll be in my room."

Harry wasn't sure why he called it his room. His room was being taken apart, and the room he slept in had always been Dudley's second bedroom to his mind. When he got to the top of the stairs though, and turned towards that bedroom he noticed something he hadn't noticed when since he got home. The door was plan, and missing the cat flaps and locks. Instead there was a simple sign, gold on Gryffindor scarlet, that said, "Harry's Room." He closed the door and discovered that a mirror had even been put on the back on the door.

In the mirror, he looked at himself. The messy black hair was back, maybe just a little bit longer than it had been. It covered his scar rather nicely. As a girl the scar had been a lot less of a scar. You had to look for it, and Harry hadn't really tried to hide it much. He took of the blouse and the no longer necessary bra. He was glad he didn't have to were that anymore. He tossed it in his trunk, because there was no way he was going to let Dudley see it. It was prime teasing material, and Dudley may have reformed, but there would be teasing from his cousin, again, once a new normal was set. And that wasn't going to be set while Harry had 32Bs.

Harry flexed his muscles a bit. Quidditch training might not be something that really gave you a lot of exercise, but he'd followed the Chaser's routine for increasing upper body strength. He though it had given him just a little definition, which was good.

Harry sat down on the bed to remove his shoes and socks. He knew that he'd have to be completely naked when Snape made his examination. From the way the shoes fit, he figured he'd lost maybe a size, size in a half in his feet. He folded up the socks and placed them on the bed, and straightened the shoes from where they fell.

He stood, and down went the skirt, fully revealing his naked male body. It was so nice to be male again. He heard the crack of apparition, so he put the skirt away, picked up a towel he'd left in the room that morning, and put it around his waist, just as someone knocked on his door.


Professor Severus Snape had decided that it would be a bad idea to appear in the parlor of Number Four Privet Drive in the same outfit as he had the day that he'd taken Harry Potter away. So he'd gone for a brown tweed jacket with black trousers and a red bow tie. He thought it was something that made him look quite a bit less like what he did in the magical world. People remembered outfits more than they did people.

Like the first time, he'd appeared a bit of distance away from Number Four and walked to the Dursley's residence, noticing that there had been a few changes. Number Four looked a bit less straightened and actually much more fitting in the neighborhood. There was a small pile of white painted wood out front, to his eyes it looked like paneling and studs had been removed from somewhere in the house. He rang the door chime.

Petunia Dursley opened the door. "Severus," she began. "I was hoping you'd come soon. Harry's up in his room, having changed back about ten minutes ago." She moved back to allow him to pass, entering the house. As he did so, she commented, "a bow tie, Severus?"

"Bow ties are cool," Severus said in a dry mono-tone, much like he used on students who were not living up to their potential. Then he turned, going up the stairs, not bothering with any further talk. He had a job to do and he had always disliked Petunia Evans. He knocked on the door labeled "Harry's Room."

The door opened revealing an almost naked male Harry Potter. "Come in Professor," Harry said, in a very polite tone that Severus had grown used to over the summer. It was a bit strange to hear it from the boy in front of him though. He entered and closed the door.

"Drop the towel, Potter," Severus said firmly. "It will interfere with the spells I need to do to ensure that the potion is out of your system and that you have fully transformed back."

Potter dropped the towel, and Severus noted that he appeared to be more developed than he'd been when he'd been transformed into a girl. That wasn't unexpected, as girls were more developed than boys at thirteen, and that had been noted as a side effect of longer term usage. He made a note to have Poppy follow up on it. He was a couple inches taller than he had been when he left Hogwarts, and his shoulders had broadened a bit.

Rotating around Harry, he noticed that the scar, which had seemed be barely visible as a girl, was back and a bit red, as if it had been rubbed raw. That was probably due to the potion. It hadn't been pure genetic suppression, having been designed to hide Harry. The scars from his uncle's abuse had not changed either way. There were some topical potions that might help reduce those that he'd have to talk to Poppy about. He cast a spell to get a deeper scan, to make sure that Harry had turned all the way back.

There was still a slight hormonal imbalance, but even that was resolving itself. Severus figured that would completely clear with just a little more fluid replacement. Even with that, he wouldn't have known that Harry had been a female from the little clues left.

"It seems you have completely changed back, Potter," Severus said formally. "You have grown a bit, and are quite a bit more developed, but that was to be expected. Your hormones may vary over the next couple of days, as your body returns to normal. It may overcompensate for a bit. Do not be surprised if your voice breaks or other signs of puberty occur. You have had the talk?"

"Not as a boy," Harry admitted.

Severus looked down at the still naked boy. He probably wasn't the best person to give it, but it would be advisable for him to have it before he went to the Burrow, especially given what he promised Ginny. "Put some clothes on, Harry," he ordered. "Then we'll talk about what you're about to go through. Perhaps I can stop you from making too much a fool of yourself like every other dunderhead teen boy I have had the misfortune of teaching."

It was probably not something Severus had done before, but perhaps he could make sure that Lily's son didn't make as much of a fool of himself as his father or to be perfectly honest, he had. Severus took a seat on Potter's bed, and waited for him to finish dressing. His clothes were quite worn and didn't fit at all. The pants were too short now, as well. Fortunately there was still a bit of money in the clothing fund that had been provided for Potter for the summer. It wouldn't do for Lily's son to go back to Hogwarts in the same ill fitting clothes that he'd been wearing for the past couple years.

"And Potter, we will be going shopping for a new wardrobe for you," Severus said, before continuing dryly. "Especially since you promised Miss Weasley a kiss since you rescued her." Potter blushed and avoided looking everywhere. It seemed that the idea of kissing a girl was appealing to him. That was a good sign, given the summer. He was done getting dressed. "Now, Potter, sit down and I will explain the mysteries of puberty."