Hermione had always thought that Harry was a singularly odd individual. Her friend (her closest and, some would say, her only) had blown into her life like whirlwind, barraging her with questions on that first plane flight over and drawing her into increasingly complex pranks throughout that year. At first, one would think that Harry was the consummate prankster, that he took nothing seriously – certainly Harry seemed to cultivate that impression. Hermione knew better, though; his carefree demeanour hid an intelligent and calculating mind.
It was that escapade with the Polyjuice Potion, though, that showed that Harry had secrets. At first, when he had mentioned the Polyjuice Potion, she had thought it would be just another of his pranks. However, the fact that he stole most of the good Polyjuice – enough, if Hermione had calculated it correctly, for a full 2 days of disguise … She thought, at first, that it would be used in another prank shortly thereafter, but years passed without further mention of the Polyjuice. When she asked Harry about it, finally, he had simply told her that he couldn't tell her, and that she would probably never know.
That didn't sit well with her, as Harry well knew, and she kept a close eye on him afterwards.
XXX
The next time Hermione noticed something was off, it was the beginning of third year. Harry had had an internship at the Potions Guild that summer, a fact which he had mentioned on a few occasions, but not which stood out in her memory. Certainly he was looking forward to it, she thought – Potions had always been one of Harry's best subjects, and he was easily the top in their class for it. Still, for someone as excitable as Harry was, the Guild internship was a subject he raised only on a few occasions, although Hermione understood that it was a rather prestigious thing.
She had gone out of her way to get a copy of the newsletter with his research in it, and had been somewhat surprised to see the nature of his discovery. It wasn't that she believed Harry was incapable of such discoveries – she always knew to look behind his carefully careless personality. It was more that, well, it wasn't anything connected to Healing. Harry's interest in potions was deep, yes, but he was most interested in potions as it related to Healing, not this sort of methodological research that he had presented. It was surprising.
More surprising still was Harry's reaction when she asked him about it. "It was just a bit of fun," he had laughed, then pouted when she, well used to his diversionary tactics at this point, wasn't swayed. He promised her that he would give her a full set of his research notes, more complete than in the Guild newsletter, but she only laid off him when he, quite seriously, told her he didn't want to talk about his Guild project.
She didn't understand the nature of his project, although she prided herself on her keen research ability and intelligence. Even having read the more complete notes he provided her, the most she understood was that his technique was an extension, of sorts, of conscious imbuing – the imbuing of a whole spell rather than a stream of magic. The few times she asked him about it, he simply repeated the theory as outlined in his paper, in nearly the same terms. She supposed that there were only so many ways to describe magical theory, but combined with his avoidance of the topic as much as possible, it was decidedly odd.
She learned, with time, not to ask him about it. But she still remembered.
XXX
She thought she had discovered his secret just after the New Year, in their third year. Harry Potter, or Harriett Potter, was a girl. Or, really – a trans boy. She was honoured to be one of the few in his circle who knew about it.
It answered so many questions: why his letters were always addressed to Harriett Potter, why he never let anyone see him in any state less than fully dressed, maybe even the Polyjuice in first year. Perhaps he was using it to experiment, on the weekends she didn't see him, with a male form. And his secretiveness – for now, Hermione realized that Harry was secretive – that was easily explained by the stigma still attached to being trans. If there was one thing she had realized as a witch, it was that the Wizarding World was, if anything, more conservative than the Muggle one, and that alone gave Harry plenty of reasons to keep his biological sex a secret.
It didn't quite explain the Guild thing, but then, perhaps he associated his Guild internship to being a girl, since he had not hidden his biological sex during that period, or something like that. For a time, Hermione was content to leave it at that.
XXX
It wasn't until Harry took her to the alleys, or shortly thereafter, that Hermione realized there was more to it.
The Harry she knew, quite simply, was not the Harry that met her that day, or that summer. It wasn't anything that this Harry said – taking into account Harry's obvious reticence about his illegal potions brewing, Harry acted as she had come to expect. It wasn't anything that Harry said.
It was more what Harry did, that day and on following days that summer, and on the things that Harry hadn't told her before.
Hermione was Harry's best friend – while both of them got along well with their classmates at AIM, Hermione was the one who really knew him. There were things she didn't know, of course – the Polyjuice, the internship, the fact that Harry was a trans boy – but his interests, his personality, his very character, she knew. And the Harry she met that day in Diagon Alley was, simply put, not the same person as the Harry she knew.
The Harry that she knew would never have kept something like the Maywell Clinic a secret from her, even if he needed a place where he could be himself over the summer. The Harry she knew would have been far too excited about the prospect of charity Clinics in general to keep from mentioning it, even if he didn't necessarily tell her about his involvement with the Clinic. And the way Harry acted that day, having broken a law to help a patient at the Clinic, it was clear that Harry was involved at the Maywell Clinic – and both of them being so dedicated to Healing, it wasn't simply surprising that Harry never mentioned the Clinic. It was outright suspicious.
Which brought her to the Clinic itself, and the people who worked there. Healer Hurst, and, more particularly, her son, occasionally referenced Harry in casual conversation – enough that it was obvious that Harry had been close to them for years. And yet Harry hadn't once mentioned either Healer Hurst or Leo Hurst to her at AIM.
For the rest of the summer, Harry would drop by the Clinic every now and then, but nowhere near as often as she expected the cheerful Healer-in-training to visit. It didn't make sense – Harry was devoted to Healing, but he appeared to be occupied by other pursuits all summer. And not just this summer, but the summer previous, as well.
In fact, Harry had shown far more excitement about the internship he had arranged for his cousin, Rigel Black, than he had for himself, or for the internship had done the year previous. Hermione knew that Rigel would be going to the Darien Gap community in Wizarding Colombia, where they had serious problems with infectious diseases – Harry's area of interest. But she knew next to nothing about Harry's own internship at the Potions Guild, and even less about Harry's plans for this summer. She wouldn't be surprised, in fact, if Harry had actually arranged the internship for himself, leaving his cousin Rigel out of it entirely – he had been so enthusiastic about it!
Wait. She backtracked on her thoughts. What if Harry had arranged the internship in Wizarding Colombia for himself? It would explain why he had been so excited about it, and it would explain the differences with the Harry she had met over the summer. If the Harry she met over the summer was not the Harry she was friends with at AIM, it would explain why she had not heard about the Maywell Clinic, or Healer Hurst or Leo. It would explain Harry's reluctance to meet this summer, because it wouldn't be Harry who knew her, but a stand-in.
And if this was an ongoing … thing, this would also explain Harry's ongoing reticence about his Guild internship last year, because the Harry she knew would not be the Harry who did the Guild internship. Harry could not explain his Guild internship project, because he simply hadn't done it.
The more she thought about it, the more compelling the thought was. So say the Harry she met over the summer, this summer, was not the same as the Harry she knew. And say that the Harry who did the Potions Guild internship was also not the one she knew. Then who would it be?
Who other than a certain Arcturus Rigel Black? Hermione had never met Harry's cousin, but she knew that Harry had an exceptionally high opinion of him – he was brilliant, apparently, especially at Potions, but he also sometimes thought about being a Healer. Rigel, too, as Harry often told him, was almost his only friend before coming to AIM – so who else would be able to sham as being Harry for her benefit?
There were things, still, that didn't make sense, but one thing was clear: Hermione had some research to do on a certain Arcturus Rigel Black.
XXX
It was September, and rather than the cool autumn breezes that would have been sweeping across England, the air at AIM was still warm. It was easy, enough, for Hermione to convince Harry to go outside over lunch, and if he was suspicious that she led him to a copse of trees near the edge of the school, away from their classmates, he didn't show it. Harry was observant, though, and Hermione knew that underneath his carefree attitude, he had picked up on her tension.
"A bit far for lunch, 'Mione, don't you think?" he asked lightly, as she transfigured the nearby leaves into a comfortable blanket.
Hermione looked him over carefully. He looked pretty much as she expected, and, more importantly, sounded right. This was the Harry she knew, she was fairly certain – on the plane trip over, he had been reading a book on quarantine containment, inspired by Rigel, he said, and over the past day or so, in classes, it was the same Harry – same attitude, same carefree nature, same undivided devotion to Healing in general. He even pulled a prank their first night back, to welcome the first-years, he had said, though it was somewhat tame by his standards – just surprise fireworks over the dinner buffet, a prank which he himself described as "uninspired".
Well, there was no other way to approach the topic, so Hermione just barrelled on.
"Are you Harriett Potter, or are you Arcturus Rigel Black?"
His face stayed relaxed, breaking into a grin, but Hermione had caught the flash of panic in his green eyes. "What makes you say that, 'Mione?" he laughed.
Hermione listed it off, counting on her fingers. "First, it's the internships. You've been much more interested in your cousin's internship than your own – you told me almost nothing about your Guild internship, even though I got the newsletter it was published in just to discuss it with you. But you were so interested in Rigel's Healing internship in Wizarding Colombia. Second, as I told you, I volunteered at the Maywell Clinic all summer, and I barely saw you even though I know you were in the lower alleys almost every 's not like you to avoid a clinic of any type, and it's suspicious that you never mentioned it to me before, even though you clearly knew about the Clinic before. The way that Healer Hurst and her son talk about you, it's obvious that they know you fairly well, but you never mentioned it. I know it must be nice to have somewhere over the summer where you can be yourself, but that explanation only goes so far – especially when it seems that most of the alleys know that you're actually a girl, anyway.
"Third, when I thought of those things, I did some research on your cousin, Rigel. I went to the Ministry records, again – Arcturus Rigel Black is the only son and Heir to the House of Black. His mother is listed as deceased, young for a witch, which means it was either illness, accident, or foul play. I couldn't find any news reports in the Daily Prophet around that time for the last two, which would be expected given the Black family's prominence in wizarding society, which logically means it was illness, which lends itself well to an interest in Healing – and infectious diseases, specifically." She glared at him, and Harry – or maybe Rigel? – looked at a loss for words.
"And if you were actually a boy, it would explain why you are so insistent that you are a boy – because if you and your cousin switched places, it would be easier for both of you to pretend to be boys. And, and… it wouldn't make sense for Harry to be here and pretend to be Rigel over the summer for the internship, so… I think you're actually Arcturus Rigel Black, here to take advantage of the best Healing program in the western hemisphere, and your cousin Harriett Potter is taking your place at Hogwarts, where she actually has to pretend to be a boy but, more importantly, pretends to be a pureblood. Nothing else fits the facts as well." She jutted her chin out stubbornly, almost daring him to challenge her reasoning.
He wasn't looking at her, but was instead lying back, staring into the trees, an uncommonly grim expression on his face. She prodded him impatiently in his side, demanding an answer.
"I'm thinking," he snapped. She withdrew her hand in surprise. Harry never got angry, particularly at her; though on the other hand, having essentially accused him of either blood identity theft or aiding and abetting in blood identity theft, she shouldn't be surprised. She thought, in his case, it was more likely the latter, but this wasn't like brewing an illegal potion, or even stealing Polyjuice as they had in their first year.
Still, wasn't his very reaction confirmation enough?
"I'm not going to tell anyone," Hermione tried, tentatively. "Don't lie to me, please, Harry. I can't say I approve of what you might have done, but I can't help you if I don't know the truth. I don't like that you've chosen to avoid blood prejudice instead of confronting it, but if that's what you've done, then I'd rather know, so that I can help you – or at least, I'll know enough not to put you in danger by accident."
Harry started laughing, a slightly harsher sound that Hermione was used to, but a laugh nonetheless. He sat up and grabbed her hand, executing an awkward bow over it. "To be technical about it, I wasn't the one avoiding blood prejudice. I just wanted to go to the school with the best Healing program in the western hemisphere. You're the cleverest witch of our generation, 'Mione. Arcturus Rigel Black, at your service."
XXX
AN: In my head, this is followed shortly thereafter by Hermione tackling Archie and asking if that's what he really looks like, and him dropping the disguise and Hermione being shocked about it. Of course, I also think I might ship Archie/Hermione, so… there's that. But that wouldn't be for a few years anyway. As always, constructive criticism welcome!
