Memories: Again, everyone I am so sorry for last chapter! This one should be better. Everyone knows that they have the right to flame me if they wish, right? Just a little recognition.

Sarika: Stop annoying the potential reviewers with your whining and do the disclaimer, Memories.

Memories: (sighs) Yes, Sarika, as ever, your each wish is my command. I do not own anything that is familiar from JK Rowling's Harry Potter is not mine.

"Spell."

"Speech."

/Parseltounge. /

'Thoughts.'

(Author Notes)

:::

Philomel stumbled and almost tripped again, unused to wearing a skirt and stacked heels. "I really don't like those Portkeys." she mutters.

"Severus! There you are! Where is Philomel and who is this lovely girl that seems to be dressed like you?" pipes up Dumbledore, looking up from a puzzle of lemon drops. Severus just rolls his eyes while Philomel blushes silently.

"This is Philomel. I got her new clothes and I do not want to know what is popular right now so this is what she will wear. Better than what those heinous muggles had her wearing. And on that subject, Albus—" Severus begins but is cut of by a wave from Dumbledore.

"Not now, Severus. Now, Philomel, my dear, I have the perfect way to keep your glamour running for long periods of time and still have it hold up under scrutiny." Dumbledore holds out a thin silver necklace with a raven on it as a pendant. "Put this on. The necklace was once your mother's; Lily's parents got it in celebration of her being a Ravenclaw."

Philomel takes the delicate necklace and laces her hands behind her neck, ignoring her familiar's hiss of dismay. A slight tingle runs through her body and she gasps.

"Interestingly enough, the glamour seems to have changed your clothing as well, Philomel; or should I say Harry?" says Dumbledore with a slight snicker in his voice. Dumbledore then waves his wand at a chair and transfigures it into a mirror. Philomel peers curiously into and gasps at her appearance.

Severus looks at the reflection in the mirror with a slight sneer. "Albus, you made her look like Potter. Don't tell it was because of that comment when I first saw her."

Dumbledore smiles happily and replies, "Of course not, my boy! It's just that James was the only one I could make her look like. Lily was quite feminine, if you don't remember."

Philomel's once long hair is now relatively short and sticks up everywhere. It parts to reveal the pearly lightning scar in the middle of her head. Philomel's eyes are a little smaller than her female form and Philomel can't help but notice that she is also a little taller. The winged snake peeks at the image and hisses at her reflection.

/That'sss not my missstresss! Ssstay away from my missstresss, ssstranger! / Philomel giggles momentarily at her familiar's antics.

/That's me with a glamour on to change the way I look. It's a mirror and it shows our reflections. The human is me and the snake is you. / corrects Philomel. Dumbledore seems to finally figure out that there is a tiny winged snake around Philomel's neck when she hisses in Parseltounge.

"Oh, you have a familiar! Is that a Sirrush or an Ophies Pteretoi? Both are such a rarity these days…" he gushes like a little boy. Both Severus and Philomel stare incredulously.

"What are you talking about, Professor?" asks Severus. Philomel looks down at her familiar.

Dumbledore looks at both of them with that insufferable twinkle in his eyes. "A Sirrush is a dragon/feline/eagle hybrid. Now that I can see it better it's rather obvious that it is an Ophies Pteretoi, or winged snake. Did you know that both of those magical creatures were bred to protect? The Sirrush guarded the palace and the winged snake guarded date palms."

Philomel is looking rather thoughtful and starts to pet her snake. /How would you like to be named Sirrush? /

The winged snake immediately wends around Philomel's fingers and lovingly rubs her wings against the fingers. /You've finally named me missstresss! Sssirrusssh isss a pretty name and I'd be honored, missstresss! /

Dumbledore smiles and asks, "Have you named it yet?" Philomel turns a neutrally happy gaze to the Headmaster.

"Yes—"

Philomel gasps at the sound of her voice, it is deeper than her feminine one and she swallows heavily before continuing, "Yes, I named her Sirrush. She likes it."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkle in mirth and even Severus is smirking slightly. "I see that you have found out the other part of the glamour. We can't have a boy running around with such a beautifully feminine voice like yours."

Philomel nods but reaches up to take off the raven pendant. Once it's off, the glamour disappears into a swirl of smoke. Philomel shakes her head and runs her unoccupied hand through her long hair.

"Thank you for the compliment, sir, but it will take me awhile to get used to hearing myself like that."

Dumbledore smiles understandingly before raising his wand. "These are spells to pin up your hair, remember we talked about that this afternoon? Trois tresses." Philomel's long tar black hair immediately twists itself into three separate braids that hit her hips now. Once that is done, Dumbledore pronounces another spell, "Cheville en haut." Philomel's braids fly up and pin themselves into three topknots, leaving her bangs to frame Philomel's face.

Philomel bows her head slightly, unused to the weight. "Do you have spells for everything?"

Dumbledore nods, saying, "Sometimes, I think we do. But you'll need to remember those spells; you'll be doing them yourself."

Severus bends his head minutely to Dumbledore, before leading Philomel out of the Headmaster's office.

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

The next week, after Philomel has had time to adjust to the new identity, comes the time for her to venture into the wizarding world as Harry Potter. Sirrush was concealed as a bracelet, due to her vehement refusals to being left behind. Philomel was to wait in London as Harry and meet with Hagrid there.

Severus dropped her off. "Philomel, people will be very anxious meeting you and Hagrid is quite large and somewhat unaware of strength. Do not be afraid if he hugs you; just remind him of the necessity of breathing." he reminded Philomel, before whisking away.

A few moments later Hagrid came up to Philomel. "Yer Harry Potter, right?" he asks suspiciously. Philomel looks up and nods. "Harry! It's been so long!" Philomel squeaks when Hagrid hugs her tightly.

"Can't breathe…"

Hagrid drops her sheepishly and says, "Sorry, Harry. I don' know me own strength. Anyways, come wit me." He turns and leads Philomel to the Leaky Cauldron. "'Ere we are, The Leaky Cauldron! Right through 'ere is Diagon Alley."

Hagrid opens the door to the Leaky Cauldron and walks through it with Philomel following hesitantly.

As soon as Hagrid steps through, Tom, the bartender, asks, "Hagrid! Your usual?"

Hagrid replies proudly, but good-naturedly, "Can't Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business." Hagrid puts a hand on Philomel's shoulder and her knees begin to buckle before she locks them.

Tom peers at Philomel and recognizes her scar, which is left in plain sight. "My gods, it can't be—is this—?" Hagrid nods proudly. "Harry Potter…what an honor."

Philomel is swarmed by wizards and witches, all wishing to shake hands or say something to her.

"Harry Potter, I've always wanted to meet you…"

"Such an honor…"

"So proud…"

"I can't believe I got to shake your hand…"

Philomel was quite shocked, thinking quickly, 'Professor Snape said that I was famous but imagine all these people so thrilled to meet me.' She does not show any outward shock when a trembling man comes up to her and sticks out his hand; Philomel is still reeling from all the attention.

"P-P-Potter, c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you." says the man, shaking Philomel's hand. "I am P-Professor Q-Quirrel, your D-D-Defense A-Against the D-Dark A-Arts teacher."

Philomel tilts her head and draws back her hand, discreetly wiping it on her slacks; Quirrel's hands were quite sweaty. "Pleased to meet you, sir. I look forward to your classes this year."

A few more people come up to Philomel before Hagrid pulled her through to the entrance way of Diagon Alley. After a few confusing minutes Hagrid managed to tap out the correct sequence with his umbrella. Then he led Philomel to Gringotts; but not before he stopped and read the warning on the marble doors out loud.

"Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, Harry. Goblins are vicious creatures." Hagrid said, before steering Philomel to the same goblin that had helped her the week before. "I'm here with Harry Potter and Dumbledore sent me to get you-know-what from vault you-know-which."

The goblin raises a fuzzy eyebrow at Philomel and scoffs, "Well Mr. Potter, it appears you have a cousin. Might I suggest that you ask Professor Snape how she has a key though." Philomel just narrows her eyes at him then rolls them. The goblin looks a little suspicious before he calls Griphook over. "Two more visitors to the Potter vault, Griphook and to vault you-know-which."

Griphook leads Hagrid and Philomel to a cart. "This cart will take us to our destinations, Harry Potter, sir."

Philomel frowns somewhat but gets in the cart, with Hagrid following reluctantly this time. Once they were well on their way and Hagrid was suitably occupied trying not to lose his breakfast, Philomel leaned over and asked, "I thought that there has been no customer so far worthy of being polite to, Griphook; what changed?"

Griphook jumps and the cart sways menacingly. "I've only said that to your cousin! How would you know that!"

Philomel shrugs and pretends to be checking her nails. "Did you really think I wouldn't know about a family member? Philomel always sends me letters. Just answer the question, please. Is it because I do match the description of Harry Potter?"

Griphook snorts and immediately tries to deny the accusation. "We would never favor someone just because of their name!"

Philomel smiles and says, "Good, because Philomel and I wish to be judged on our character, not our first nor last name. We trust that the goblins have good judgment on this matter?" Philomel jokingly quirks an eyebrow, making sure that Griphook knew she didn't mean any offense. Griphook laughs.

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

After Philomel and Hagrid had retrieved some money and a small package from their respective vaults, they went first to Ollivander's, yet again. Inside it was just the same as before, the same smells and everything. When he hears the bell Ollivander comes out.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Potter. I've been waiting for you." Ollivander says softly. Then Ollivander's eyes flick to Hagrid, who squirms uncomfortably. "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid, pleasure to see you again. Your wand was a sixteen inch oak wand, was it not? Shame it was snapped."

Hagrid blushes a dark crimson before nodding. Philomel noticed that he gripped a pink umbrella tightly but didn't question it.

Ollivander turns back to Philomel. "Now, Mr. Potter…Your wand hand, please?"

Philomel nods and holds out her right hand, having found that she preferred writing with that hand while she had the glamour on. Ollivander starts to measure her again and then leaves the tape measure to itself before going to look for wands. Many, many wands later Ollivander hands her a familiar wand.

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Give it a wave, Mr. Potter."

Philomel raises it and feels the same feeling that she felt with her first wand. She waves it gently and a piercing birds-song comes out. Philomel can't help but think, 'That melody, it's like my lullaby. I can only assume that this lullaby is an important part of my life and/or magic.'

Ollivander is musing aloud, a pleased smile lighting his face, "Well Mr. Potter, this is the second time this summer that that particular song has been part of someone. How, may I ask, do you know this song? It is quite unusual for something of this magnitude to be such a big part of two unrelated peoples' lives. But then that leads one to the thought that perhaps you and she are not so unrelated. You do look quite alike and she felt a connection with that wand as well. Hmmm, I wonder…" Ollivander taps a finger against thin lips before a sly twinkle comes into his eyes. "Yes, they would do that. And Miss Evans always did like Shakespeare."

Philomel freezes when Ollivander mentions Shakespeare, considering almost desperately, 'Hermione mentioned Shakespeare when I asked her! He must have written something with my lullaby in it. But which play did he put it in?' Ollivander smiles slyly.

"Mr. Potter, you must know this; it is quite curious." Philomel tilts her head to show that she is listening. "You wand has a core from the exact same phoenix as the wand that gave you your scar. Normally, a magical creature does not give more than one wand core. I assume that you'll try to find out as much as you can on sister wands, though, I'm sure. Seven galleons please."

Philomel sighs and pulls out the appropriate amount of change, then woke up Hagrid.

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

After Hagrid left on an errand, Philomel highly doubted that but didn't protest, Philomel went on to find her school supplies and robes. She smiled shyly at everyone who commented on her scar but was skittish when people started to touch her shoulders. Finally she ducks into Madame Malkin's for school robes. Inside she is lead to the same footstool as before. Lo and behold, Draco Malfoy is there once again.

"Hello, you're going to Hogwarts as well?"

Philomel nods then says politely, "Yes. My name is Harry Potter, what is yours?"

Draco's eyebrow arches at Philomel's name but simply replies, "Really? My name is Draco Malfoy. Have you thought about what House you'll be in? I'll be in Slytherin; my entire family was. I expect, with your history, you'll be in Gryffindor." Philomel can tell that Draco is trying to make a good impression, though she thinks his approach is rather pretentious; she holds no illusions on her influence.

"Oh, I don't know. Ravenclaw sounds better to me. At least there people are willing to plan ahead before charging into something1."

Madame Malkin comes back with a few robes Philomel's size when she has the glamour on. Philomel takes them with a slight bow and a thank you. While she is preparing to walk out Draco calls out, "Harry, I'll see you on the train?"

Philomel turns back and dips her head, saying, "Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy. In any case, see you at school."

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

After Philomel had gotten all her school supplies and was about to go back into the apothecary's to see if they had any potions' books, Hagrid comes back with one hand behind his back.

"There yeh are, Harry! Been lookin' for yeh. Have yeh got all yer things?" asks Hagrid. Philomel nods and glances toward the apothecary's. Hagrid doesn't notice and continues, "Look what I've got yeh for yer birthday, Harry!" At this Hagrid pulls a cage with a small dun2 colored bird inside it from behind his back.

Sirrush, who had been quiet for the entire trip hisses quickly at the intruder, /Keep away from my missstresss. You will not hurt her asss long asss I am here. / The bird just gives Sirrush a yellow stare. Philomel nearly panics and calms Sirrush down with frantic petting of her wings.

"That's a nice bracelet yeh have there, Harry."

Philomel nods and whispers a polite thank you but nothing more. Hagrid starts to lead her back to the Leaky Cauldron. Philomel spares one more glance to the apothecary's before following Hagrid.

:::

Thank you everyone who has read this and reviewed, I never expected so many people would like it. By the way, both the Sirrush and the Ophies Pteretoi are legit mythical creatures and an explanation of the Ophies Pteretoi will be in my profile. The spells are both French: "Tresses Trois" means three braids and "Cheville en haut" means pin up. If anyone finds my French lacking, please send me the correct way. The tiny bird that Hagrid got Philomel is a nightingale; I thought it was hilariously ironic, given what Philomel means. See my profile for a link to explanation of this.

A major problem with Gryffindors in my opinion, humble though it is when compared with the great JKR. I think that Harry would not have this major guilt problem had he been sorted into Slytherin. I mean really, when, besides the sixth book with Draco, have you seen a Slytherin so beat up with guilt? It's like a Gryffindor's chronic disease.

A variable color averaging a nearly neutral slightly brownish dark gray.