Another Cousin

After an interminable amount of customs paperwork they left the ministry and Sirius apparated them to a clump of bushes between a bus stop and a petrol station, then led the way uphill and into a residential section. Not as monotonous as Privet Drive, but definitely suburbs. Significantly more-well-to-do suburbs than Privet Drive. Mini-mansions, smaller than Hermione's parents but still ridiculously large. And basically no back yards.

"Alright," said Sirius, "my cousin Andromeda, her muggleborn ravenclaw, and their daughter live here. I would like to induct them back into the wider House of Black, but don't have any idea how they'll think of the proposal, so … be on your best behaviour."

"Do you really know enough about 'best' behaviour, or about my behaviour," said Harry, "That you could tell the difference?"

"Yes, I could," said Sirius, "But I don't mean pureblood 'best behaviour,' although you might as well show off that you know how to follow those manners, but I specifically meant, not criticising them or their non-pureblood way of life. On the other side, don't criticise your parents or my parents for proving what's wrong with pureblood best behaviour."

Harry shrugged, "live and let live, got it, no criticism."

Sirius nodded, and knocked on the door.

.

The woman who opened the door looked like the middle sister between Bellatrix and Narcissa, dark brown hair disappearing behind her shoulders, and eyes that looked at you, instead of through you. No hint of crazy, and no hint that she presumed guile was the point of life. Harry was immediately at ease. But then he'd been at ease around Nim and Aunt Narcissa too. They were both exactly what they advertised: an angry leashed predator with a chip on her shoulder and something to prove, and the mother dragon behind Draco Malfoy: alternately preening, hoarding, and giving advice of the same to her offspring.

The expression worn by the woman before him now reminded him more of Hanna Abbot, except apparently she'd gone out of her way and against her parent's wishes to marry a ravenclaw and a muggleborn, so she had quite a spine under the gentle exterior.

Harry thought he'd like her a lot.

"This is him then?" she said after Sirius finished his introduction, "Nice to meet you, Harry."

"Nice to meet you also, Cousin Andromeda," said Harry, and ducked his head the exact correct amount, as if she hadn't been pushed out of her family, and as if he hadn't already claimed a portion of his lordship duties.

She raised an eyebrow that was at once appraising, approving, and mocking, "Narcissa got to him first, I see."

Sirius cleared his throat, to cover a laugh and an, 'Obviously.'

That sounded like we aren't talking about Bellatrix. That was fine, I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about Bellatrix.

On the other hand Andromeda seemed very alert, somehow he doubted it would take her long to differentiate between Bellatrix' training and Narcissa's.

"Well don't stand on ceremony," she said, "Come in and make yourselves comfortable."

They followed her into a sitting room, and then waited awkwardly while she offered refreshments before sitting down so that they could also sit.

Except all of that was interrupted by a dash of footsteps and a surrounding grapple before Harry could turn to assess or draw his wand or anything.

As soon as he established that he was helpless by means both magical and boxing and would have to fall back on kung fu, and that her stance definitely wasn't prepared for that, and this was probably meant as a hug, and he only needed to defend himself if he didn't want yet another cousin treating him like a pet. She seemed the exact size of Bellatrix and just now he really didn't mind if the 'cousins treat each other as pets' ethic extended to her right away. Except … he did have other boundaries, and he'd rather she take him seriously about them and he didn't want to let enough disrespect to stand between them for that to become a problem later.

"You must be the cousin that Uncle Sirius was telling us about."

"Likewise," said Harry.

A second's pause while she processed that, then a giggle.

"My name is Harry," he said.

"Tonks," she said, "Nice to meet you."

"I'd say the same, except, the only part I've seen is hands," said Harry and threw his arms down and forward, starting fists while also twisting back and forth. She wasn't expecting him to be trying to break out, she was expecting him to be trying for a look at her face and only dodged his gaze, not prepare for his coming attack on her arms and balance, "and a vague impression," He leaned forward, "of a pink—

She was only just realising that he'd loosened her hold and leaned forward with him to try to hold on when he switched to the next move of the escape sequence. Which is to say he leaned back and when she lost her balance away from him, he pivoted in the air. She had let go of him, but not early enough to not be dragging him down with her. Damn it.

Best to take advantage of the mistake.

He made falling on top of her seem like his own idea by returning her hug immediately.

"Hat," he finished, then realised: it wasn't a hat. "Hair then," he mused, "interesting."

Her eyes flashed and she rolled until he was beside her instead of on top.

"Hello, Cousin Harry," she grinned, her eyes and hair changed colour, ever so slightly. For a moment he thought it was just a shadow from Sirius or Andromeda moving across the window light. But the change continued.

"Hello, Cousin Tonks," said Harry.

Somewhere behind him Cousin Andromeda sighed. "Her name is Nymphadora Tonks, just to be clear."

She'd specifically introduced herself by her last name, but also defied the distancing effect of doing so, by starting with an embrace not a hand shake or a nod.

The young woman laying on his arm made a face, and Harry imagined several directions teasing about her name could go, and that she was used to it, and not in a good way, and decided not to go there, or not directly.

"That leaves not nearly enough to the imagination," said Harry.

"And you think I'm all about the imagination?" said Nymphadora Tonks. Too long a name regardless of her tastes.

"The pink hair," said Harry.

"Yes?" said Tonks.

"Tells me that you defy my expectations," said Harry, "so the question only remains, your imagination, or…"

"I don't take celebrity requests," she spat, with just enough of a hip thrust as to leave nothing to interpretation.

He returned his attention to her face to find it an exact mirror of his own. Except the scar seemed to be colour only, no depth, but still a creepily accurate imitation of his face.

Right, he was a celebrity, and he'd sleep easier knowing that there wouldn't be a string of fans bragging that they'd slept with him.

He sat up, getting off her arm in the process, freeing her to also sit up.

Actually

"You have my permission to wear that face," said Harry, "if you lose the scar, and let it … be your own age, and … call me little brother, at least in your head."

Her eyes flashed back from scorn, to concern, to care. The scar disappeared and a streak of pink hair appeared down the side, almost as if to match Aunt Narcissa's blond streak.

She pushed her now messy hair behind her ears, smiled again, then hopped to her feet and offered Harry a hand. He put his hands up pretending as if to take it, but then stood up hand-less.

She seemed to recognise the gesture, not as a rejection of her help, but as a declaration of enough combat training that he didn't need constant supervision.

"Show off," she growled with a smile, not less concern, just much more relaxed.

It was surprisingly easy to understand her expressions when they were stretched across his own facial features.

"Right," Tonks announced to the room, "I'm going to show my brother around his new house."

Andromeda sighed and waved them away.

Tonks turned and led the way, into the corridor and up a flight of stairs, through a sitting room of a completely different character, smaller and brighter mostly, and into a smaller corridor, a bathroom on one side, she flicked on the light and glanced in, perhaps to check the count of towels, then looked away and opened the three bedrooms around the other side, one obviously lived in, but not recently. There was still a dart board on the wall, and a heavy fabric strap hanging on a peg board, based on the plastic end, it might be a piece of a book bag.

"Guest rooms," she said, "Pick one if you want."

Harry shrugged, she smirked at him and led him back through the sitting room to another corridor, to point at a closed door, "My room," she said, "in case you need anything," Her voice lower than Harry's, though not by much, just enough to intrigue Harry what his own voice might sound like in a couple years.

She continued on down the corridor opening more bedroom doors, and giving rapid introductions about cousins on her father's side and which guest rooms they always chose and that he likely wouldn't see them until Christmas.

"Wait, back up," said Harry.

"What?" he said. He. Tonks had taken permission to wear Harry's face entirely differently than Harry had meant it.

Or … how did I mean it?

That's why Tonks didn't like her name? It was too restricting. Probably also gave people exacerbated expectations that she/he didn't feel like living up to, down to. (Like 'veela are all women' / No, they just had awesome vestigial pectorals.) Fine. Whatever.

She/he would tell him all about that whenever she felt the need, probably at length, Harry cared, but he wasn't interested. He didn't want his first impression to be, 'hyper alert and therefore uptight' or 'hyper interested in blow-by-blow arguments won regarding the topic'.

He just didn't equate his soul with the body he was wearing at the moment. His animagus form happened to be male, but he'd heard of that not being the case.Come to think of it, that deer he hadn't chosen might have been female. He hadn't paid enough attention to the snake to guess.

Or did I?

Tom hadn't liked his name either.

Not the point right now!

If he wasn't going to question how far past her body her gender identity extended, he would ask the other question that mattered.

"New home?" said Harry, "Christmas? How long are we staying?"

"You're staying the rest of the summer," said Tonks, "unless you absolutely hate it here, because Sirius absolutely hated his house at your age, and doesn't want to subject you to it until he's cleared out the dark magic and spruced it up a bit."

Harry blinked, "Just to be clear," said Harry, "he asked permission for me to stay here, but didn't tell me that?"

"Wanted to wait until you'd seen the place for yourself, and shown a definite preference about us. Didn't seem to me that you could get more blatant than, 'call me little brother in your head' at least not until Dad gets here and … well Dad is nice, don't get me wrong, but he's not Uncle Sirius."

Tonks stopped and stepped forward to hug him.

"Sorry," sobbed Harry.

"Don't be," said Tonks, "He should have told you, that we were auditioning to take care of you for the summer."

Harry nodded.

"What did he tell you?"

"That he was auditioning to be your Head of House, in case having an explicit place inside the Pureblood family structure could be an advantage or safety net to any of you."

She snickered, "Well there is taking advantage and then there's having insurance," she agreed. Then rubbed his back, and pressed his cheek into her shoulder.

Female again.

Her hand trailed down his neck, "Are these veela feathers?" she said, "They smell like veela feathers."

"Yes, they are," he said.

"How do you have veela feathers in your barrette, why do you have a barrette, where did you find feathers from two different veela?"

"I just spent three weeks in France with the Delacours."

"How did you manage that?"

"Fleur, the big sister, cashed in a favour, forcing me to give sex tutoring to her little sister. Apparently sex tutoring happens younger and is a more delicate process for part veela. I think there were additional favours between Sirius and their parents."

Tonks took a deep breath. And let it out. Male again. "I don't know how to feel about that," he said.

Harry shrugged.

"How do you feel about it?"

"It was … hard work," said Harry, "not the sex, though that was a lot of very careful exercise, as you'd expect. The hard part was … the point wasn't the sexual activity or how to do it safely, the way it is for humans tutoring about that. The point was … playing house, again not the physical activities and skills but the psychological skill of negotiating tasks and roles and spheres of authority. It was … eye opening."

"How so?"

Harry shrugged, "my muggle aunt and uncle argued a lot," (and the loser would take it out of my hide,) "but he brought home the money and she kept the house." And made me keep the yard. "The Weasleys argue hardly at all, mostly about what the rules had been or should be changed to, but … Mrs. Weasley is LOUD when she thinks someone needs to hear her opinion and might not otherwise, he brings home the money too, but she also gardens for some of their food. My muggleborn friend's parents … they work together and cook together and clean in tandem, the Malfoys invest in tandem and plan their politics together even if the nature of their politics is to implement separately and sometimes with the appearance of working cross purposes. And they argue, when they've let me hear, only about Dumbledore and his power-base, and whether it's worthwhile or acceptable to let him keep it for another month or year or whatever."

"What's your point?"

"I was supposed to be teaching her how to cooperate and therefore negotiate in an adult way instead of in a kid's way, but I'm not sure I know the adult versions of those things yet. So I've been doing a lot of thinking and remembering." I might have learned more about cooperating than I taught her.

She nodded, "and the sex?"

Harry shrugged, "Sex is sex."

"Even with veela?"

"Even with part-veela."

"And specifically those part-veela?"

Harry grinned.

Tonks smirked.

"I can go a week or a bit more without wanting sex, usually," said Harry. Which is a different thing than how often my body craves release, a simple progression of physics, once all my hormones negotiate how much semen should be produced.

"Usually," mouthed Tonks and smirked harder.

"But I think my snuggle withdraw will be lots worse this week than it was the week after school let out."

Her face blanked, then her eyes narrowed.

"You have a snuggle friend at Hogwarts," she whispered.

He nodded.

She smirked then shrugged, "and you're wearing veela feathers."

He nodded.

"If those aren't to advertise, 'I'm horny, please shag me,' I don't know what would."

Harry shook his head, "veela aren't particularly horny I don't think. Their magic just affects some people that way, but then, their body shape and apparently their smell affects some people similar ways."

She grinned, "and how does it affect you?"

"Not at all," he said.

She blinked.

"I think it's cute when they change one hair in a hundred to feathers and go about their day as if nothing is unusual." He ran his finger along the single lock of dark pink, among her locks of currently black hair.

"You like that?" she said.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Is there anything else I should change?"

"What happened to 'I don't take requests'?"

"I don't take celebrity requests," she said, "I'll take inspirations wherever they might come from, as long as they make me feel positive, not negative."

"Alright," said Harry. He took a deep breath, "I think you'd do better mentally modelling veela behaviour, if you assume they're not particularly more horny than yourself."

"But I am more horny than average," she said, "and I can tell. Though I'm usually practised enough at tracking down willing partners that I might actually turn down requests more often than average."

"Paradox of Choice."

She shrugged and gave a wicked grin that matched Bellatrix's enticing beg so closely it made his teeth hurt.

Harry blinked and looked away. "Black blood," he said, "the lot of us."

"Oh, that's right," she cooed, "So I should ignore the feathers and predict your level of horniness from your family tree?"

"My general level, Probably, yes," said Harry, "My specific level today, on the other hand…"

"Yes?" she said, "that's what the feathers advertise?"

Harry shook his head, "The feathers advertise, that today I'm feeling lonely for friends that I left in France, or for snuggle friends in general, or that I never had sisters of my own specifically."

She smiled more gently now. Probably she understood, if she also had lots of cousins and no siblings.

Then her grin morphed back to enticing.

Harry relaxed, this might not be horrible, "But I don't expect I'd be able to stop or even mildly discourage you from figuring out how to turn my momentary loneliness for snuggles into an avenue of your own sexual gratification."

...-...

The finding of Leona

Content warning: Gender bending, Gender bent sex, Anal sex, Safety tutoring about anal sex.

Tonks smiled wider, no longer Bellatrix's sly grin of enticement, now Bellatrix's full grin of greed and dominance. Usually seen when Hermione or Hedwig gave Bella permission to be on top.

Harry looked away again, and tried to think whether Pad and Parv had left him specific instructions about this sort of situation.

Regardless of what he'd told Neville and Parvati about not wanting more girlfriends than one. It wasn't that. He hadn't minded sharing Hermione and Nim with each other. He hadn't minded being shared by Padma and Parvati. He didn't mind all four of them helping him take care of Luna and Susan. Susan needed to make up her mind without peer pressure getting in the way. And Ginny was the odd one out no matter which way he looked at it.

And Padma had wanted to share with Parvati. And Parvati didn't want sex until … Didn't want … He never had gotten around to asking Nim for lessons how and if that request was to be met safely.

He turned back to Tonks, "Would it bother you any, if I told you that I have a girlfriend back at Hogwarts, or maybe … a candidate girlfriend, depending on how you count certain things."

She raised an eyebrow, "it didn't bother you when I said I have such an over sufficient supply of desirable partners that I even turn down some?"

"No," he shrugged, "doesn't bother me, Black ancestry again, probably."

She nodded, "Why did you bring it up?"

"Candidate girlfriend wanted to try butt sex sometime, and I haven't yet had the option to research how to do that safely."

She shrugged, "plenty of lubricant, slow and gentle as you learn what she wants."

Harry nodded, and I haven't taught her to use the Cruciatus to communicate her pain instantly and automatically. I probably should not.

"You don't just want to know how to do that safely," said Tonks and turned male again, this time with a nice tan, and impressive muscles.

Harry nodded.

"You want to know enough to show her a good time."

"Very much so," said Harry.

The man dragged Harry the several steps back down the corridor and into a room that was decorative without being overly gendered. Among lots of photos of relatives and fellow students, there were eight Quidditch posters of at least three teams, displaying players of both genders. The comforter on the fourposter bed was zigzag yellow and black. A Hufflepuff tie was on display proudly on one bar of the canopy, There were dark pink things that had no business being dark pink, but there were things in blue and green that were equally bizarre.

But some of it was colour coded in a way only a Hogwarts student would think of. For instance the book case was a muggle thing but very very blue. And the mirror had a green frame.

"Were you a hat-stall also?" he said.

Tonks stopped pulling and looked around the room, "No, just had friends in every house." He turned to assess Harry, "you didn't take any time at all to get sorted."

"That's not what I remember," said Harry, "I remember the hat saying I would do well anywhere."

"I think it tells everyone that, just as small talk before it gets started."

"No one else I've talked to said that," said Harry, "Anyway it pushed me various directions until I gave it enough data points for it to decide that I really didn't want to be stuffed into slytherin with Draco."

"It needed to see fear and how you dealt with it, in order to put you in gryffindor?" she said, "and a social fear was sufficient?"

Harry shrugged.

"Doesn't that just figure. The Black's lack of fear of death wasn't enough to get me into gryffindor, which was previously where I'd expected to go."

"That's a thing?" said Harry, "It's not just me?"

"No," said Tonks, "It's not just you. We are supposed to have gotten it from a muggleborn Irish princess or some such, but it latched into the family magic so hard that it's still with us today."

Harry blinked, "Say that again?"

She smirked, "You don't believe any of the stories about Blacks being purebloods even before there was a statute of secrecy to define what was a mage or a muggle or a squib?"

"I … never really thought about that," said Harry, "and that was a very long time ago."

"It's a very old family," said Tonks.

"Aren't they all?" said Harry.

"No," said Tonks, "Everyone's genetics are the same age, but a family is an abstract concept, like a country or a city, it will last as long or as short as it is useful to enough people for them to choose to continue it."

"Oh," Harry let his breath out, He hadn't ever thought of it quite like that. And it seemed like that adjustment to the definition allowed Lion's-Keep to be real.

"And," said Tonks pulling on his arm again, "you distracted me from shagging."

"My humblest apologies," said Harry, "that was a horrible mistake!"

"Prat," He muttered, "just take your clothes off already."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Unless you prefer me to do it?"

But Harry had noticed an empty chair to fold things over, and was already down to his shirt and drawers, whatever mages called these things, he really should have paid more attention to Susan's tour of such things.

He turned back, to glare at Tonks, who'd started with at least one fewer layer, (muggle-safe travelling robes), and was also down to shirt and panties. (Which looked silly crammed full of engorged wizard.)

"Last garment is the partner's prerogative?" suggested Harry.

The young man with black and dark pink hair raised an eyebrow, then nodded, "leave the shirt on."

"Alright," said Harry and removed his boxers / drawers.

Tonks copied him and threw back the covers, "In or on or against the side?" with several waves that hinted positions that Harry should assume. Except he didn't really know enough to interpret them.

"I know what I'm doing, you don't," said Tonks, "I can teach you anything you want, but the one you'll start out teaching her will be on her back with her feet in the air, so you can see each others' faces."

Harry frowned, he was vaguely sure Parvati wanted a posture that a horse would find natural. But seeing faces, and not in the dark would make things emotionally more comfortable and arguably safer.

"Or a mirror," said Tonks.

Harry nodded, "Definitely a mirror."

"Alright," said Tonks and waved her wand at a wardrobe across the room, causing it to unlatch and swing open, revealing a mostly-organised array of clothes, full of bold colours, and on the back of the door, an almost full length mirror that now faced the bed.

Harry approached him and the bed and found the centre of the mirror. He climbed onto the bed, crouched, and waited for further instructions.

He felt a wand tap-tap-poke his butt, at the same time Tonks muttered, "emundationem olefex," and held the spell until Harry felt the pressure in his butt build to unbearable, and he feared a small explosion, but the substance she'd conjured was too liquid for that and seeped out all on its own, running down his scrotum and legs. He looked and sniffed, but it was clear and scentless.

"Transfiguration spell," he said, "inanimate to inanimate, totally safe, just remember to vanish it, not cancel the transfiguration."

"You'll have to show me the wand motion later," said Harry.

"Yes," he agreed, "Lean forward, put enough weight onto your hands that I can move your legs around one at a time."

"Alright," said Harry.

Tonks gently moved him around onto all fours with his feet angled in, his back curved slightly, and Tonks kneeling between his shins.

He explained to Harry that the 'feet in' helped relax parts of the butt, and other parts of the posture also relieved pressure inward where Harry wouldn't want it.

"Are you ready," said Tonks, placing his hands around Harry's waist.

"As ready as I can be, for a first time."

Tonks grunted, then held back, "The point of this exercise, if I understood correctly was for me to be you, and for you to be your girl."

"In theory," said Harry.

"I should warn you that butt sex feels different from inside a girl body to inside a boy body."

"Doesn't surprise me," said Harry, "But … will that inform technique any?"

"Yes, a little, as a male you'll probably most appreciate certain amounts of pressure directed to certain parts of your anatomy, as a female she'll probably most appreciate … I'm going to call it the echos of the waves of pressure from sliding near the more distant parts of her pleasure bits," said Tonks, "I can show you the techniques for each, and describe them, but—" he sighed, "I expect you to be memorising the techniques, and cooperating with your partner about what she wants, not necessarily guessing from what you enjoyed to what she'll want."

"Well yeah," said Harry, "Sex is usually like that. But … what was that sigh for?"

"Eh? Because showing is easier than telling, but as you're not a metamorphmagus. I'll be doing both."

"I'm not," agreed Harry, "But I know some living-to-living transfiguration."

"I doubt that you have the correct ones to—

Harry sat up and drew his wand and got ready to shoot himself in the left hand with the transfiguration Nim had taught him to use on Hedwig.

Except he altered the starting position to his own shape, (a shape now well embedded in his mind by all his practice with the animagi transformation), and he changed the ending target to not have blond hair.

And then his eyes fell on his wand holster and he knew better than to try anything that complex near where dragon hide could siphon off the power and leave it too unstable to complete its work. He took off the holster and put it aside, and after a second's thought he took off the Spider Queen's amulet also.

With the result he was standing beside the bed and looking Tonks in the eye when he finally cast the spell and found himself looking up into Tonks amused gaze from another four inches down.

"Impressive," said Tonks, "where did you learn that?"

"Your aunt," said Harry, "Though I'd heard rumours elsewhere that it was possible."

Tonks nodded, "Get on the bed, sister; your lessons are waiting."

Harry grinned and climbed onto the bed, resuming her previous position, on all fours, in front of the mirror. From the looks of it he'd been distracted when he'd finally cast, the hair she wore now was mostly black, but there were streaks of Hedwig-silver blond and of purple. No wonder Tonks was amused.

And Tonks resumed his position, and … ugh that wasn't at all what Harry had expected that to feel like.

It wasn't bad, and there was definitely stimulation of the things … of the female parts that … of…

"Um, slow down a little?"

"I didn't think I could go any slower and it still have the desired effect."

"I'm not wanting the desired effect yet, I want to … err explore this shape some too."

Tonks snorted but moved more slowly, "your first time as a girl?"

"Yeah."

"You were aroused before you changed, but … do you need to start over and work from the beginning?"

"For butt sex, as over-lubricated as you've started it, I think I won't care. But next time I might change before I undress, and take things in a more normal order."

"Sounds appropriate," said Tonks, and began moving again, slowly at first, "Tell me if I get too fast."

"No, you're fine," said Harry, "it's nice, very different, but nice."

Tonks started humming to his rhythm.

Then the rhythm crossed some threshold and it became laborious to breathe, "That's-s no-ot so good-ould," said Harry.

Tonks slowed down a lot.

"Oh, faster than that," said Harry, "Just not quite as fast as what you were just doing."

"Hmm," hummed Tonks and sped up again, too fast again.

Harry shook her head, and Tonks slowed down, more gradually this time.

"Good," said Harry, and realised that the more she wanted was a more she could have, if her arms and balance were strong enough.

She re-balanced onto one fist and pressed the heal of her hand against her clit. For two seconds that was enough, and then it was very definitely not enough. She tried rubbing, but it wasn't nice, too much pulling. She looked down and saw the sheen of oil along the inside of her leg. She wiped that up onto her fingers and tried again.

Excellent. Most excellent.

Exceeds expectations.

Harry let out a moan that had been intended to be a completely different noise, not that she could concentrate on what she'd intended to say. Only that immediately after: She recognised it from other girls she'd pleased. And that should mean to rub just a little harder and …

Her back arched and her hands flew in the wrong direction and she landed on her face. And she couldn't plan what she wanted, only react to accidentally stopping the sensation, and both hands returned to her clit and, after a moment she was rubbing again with her wet hand while her dry hand was behind it helping, pressing in. Except it didn't need quite that much force. Just …

"Good girl," Tonks was saying, "are you alright?"

Harry couldn't speak, could barely breathe around the lump that wasn't a normal lump in her throat and the spasms shaking her belly.

Then those were past and she could just pant and pant.

"I'm alright," she managed.

"Your first time indeed," said Tonks, "More sensation than you were prepared for?

"I've reviewed memories of what it felt like," said Harry, "I was prepared for the sensation, I wasn't prepared for … lizard brain taking control away from monkey brain."

Tonks chuckled, "I've never heard anyone call it that."

"I might be off by a brain layer or two," said Harry, "but never mind, do you want me to get back in position?"

"Do you want more, you greedy little girl?"

Harry shivered, "Quit it with the gendered talk, I'm a mage, and an animagus, and currently aroused and confused and in a body I'm not used to, the dirty talk isn't helpful, just tell me what you want, or what you expect me to want for myself, either in general, or while wearing this body specifically."

Silence, then, "Does it turn you off?"

"No, maybe? Mostly just confuses me more," said Harry, "I … only meant to ask what you wanted, I wasn't trying to beg for more. I'd have said that differently."

"Yes, I'd like to finish," said Tonks more quietly, "It doesn't have to be in the same position, if you want to also experience some others."

"Probably the one you suggested I start with if there are no mirrors handy."

"Roll on your back," he said and helped, "Scoot farther from the edge."

Harry obeyed.

"Put your heals on my shoulders," he said, and knelt around Harry's bum in a way that seemed obvious immediately after, and then they were fitting together again.

Harry found it was easier to pet her clit from this angle. On the other hand she also wanted to be balancing on her elbows to change the angle where Tonks' thrusts were compressing and rubbing.

Harry tried to do both by turns, but it wasn't very satisfactory, and then Tonks climaxed and pumped her butt full of sticky smelly semen.

"My nose is definitely different in this configuration," said Harry.

"Built according to some spell crofters' ideal instead of your own genetic defaults?"

"I guess," said Harry, "Are you done?"

Tonks panted and shrugged, "Do you want me to be done?"

"Kind of I don't," said Harry, "But I think that's just an effect of what stage of climax I was getting to when you stopped. I can wait until tomorrow or the next day for you to want more, or for anyone who normally relies on me, to notice that I'm back in the country."

He frowned, "Just how many people am I sharing you with?"

Harry shrugged, "total ever, or currently likely to make free with my person?"

"Current," said Tonks.

Padma, Hermione but only if she returned single, maybe Luna, after her birthday, maybe Parvati, Nim if he could find her and rescue her, but they hadn't found her, not with the relic tracker, not with apparition or portkey trackers. And she was getting harder and harder to wake up. Harry suspected they had her in an enchanted sleep, not under stasis. Allowing her to starve to death. Which would take longer for an animagus wearing their smaller form, but still inevitable.

There was still nothing he could do to help.

He pushed the brooding away.

"One, I think," said Harry, "but four more have options that they rarely redeem."

"Do you not know how to break up with them?" said Tonks, "or are you some kind of slut?"

"My animagus form is a cat," said Harry, "a genus notorious for being polyandrous, as well as polygamous."

"My animagus form is a human," said Tonks, "and we are sluts."

Harry laughed.

Tonks smiled down at her, then pulled out and lay beside her.

"I said, I have options, so no pressure," said Harry, "That means, what do you want?"

Tonks grinned, "I wouldn't mind more fun, but this body assumes that since it's seeing one girl, and it just pumped her full of baby juice, that it can rest now."

"Um?"

"I could switch back to girl shape, and its laziness would be irrelevant. Or, one way to trick it into wanting to go back to work," said Tonks, "is to show it another girl."

Harry blinked, "Oh, I … never thought of that, Grab me my wand and tell me what I should change."

Tonks narrowed his eyes.

Harry backed off and lay back again, "What do you really want?"

"I want you to want me, not 'Tonks look like me but with a streak of white' not 'help me learn how to please my girlfriend,' not 'do you mind if I try being a girl this time,' not …" he sighed and rolled on his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Good," said Harry, "That's what I want too."

"It is?" said Tonks propping herself up on one elbow and staring down with purple hair.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Are you sure?" she said.

"Yes," said Harry, "Bodies are weird and confusing, sex is a fun thing that they can do, but it's just," she shrugged, "god that was fun and I want to try it again," she shrugged again, "But it's just seven to twelve minutes of pleasure and then back to everyday responsibilities, I mean … Quidditch games usually last longer than that, but they still end, then the points you accumulated are barely relevant after. But … you know. It's friendship that matters in the end."

...-...

Naming Leona

Content warning: Gender bending practice.

Tonks grinned, "Alright then, what else do you want to do?"

Harry shrugged, "Shower, dress up in each other's clothes, do each other's hair, terrorise the neighbourhood." She frowned and looked at her hands, "this body … seems never to have been abused, I wonder how much of a bully I'd have been otherwise."

"The fuck?" said Tonks.

Harry gritted her teeth, "Get me my wand, I'm going back to being myself for at least half an hour before we try this again."

Tonks narrowed her eyes even further but rolled over and rolled back with Harry's wand.

"Vanishing spell first, before any untransfigurations that might get away from you," said Tonks.

Harry obeyed, and cast the vanishing spell she expected to be correct on the lubricant that was everywhere, then the appropriate finishing spell on himself, and liberally used the cleaning charm that he normally used on semen.

"Are you alright now?" said Tonks.

"Not entirely," said Harry, "But … much more relaxed, try hugging me and see if my visible reaction is fawn or flinch, or if I can keep both entirely mental?"

She frowned, very concerned now. But she helped with the experiment.

He didn't flinch, and after he verified that flinching was the reflexive reaction he'd had to quell, he returned the hug.

"Looks like fawning to me," she whispered gently, "which tells me you're alright?"

"No," said Harry, "That was keeping both under mental control, and deliberately choosing to hug you. And yes, that means I'm alright."

"Good," she said, "What just happened?"

"I realised I was wearing an anonymous face, and could do anything I wanted, with no repercussions that could track back to me, and I really thought for a moment that abusing people's expectations might be fun."

"It is fun," said Tonks, "but outside of when those expectations are themselves abuse of you, it is an attack, and not justified self defence."

"Oh," said Harry, "Oh, Merlin! That wasn't the kind of permission I should have heard already."

Tonks giggled, "So who needs to be pranked first?"

"No," said Harry, "Just no, Let me process for a couple days first."

Tonks shook her head, "The first thing we do, is like you said, you change, but this time in front of a mirror, change into whoever you really want, not a mix of your own features and mine and your girlfriend's or whatever that was, then we dress you up in my clothes, and show you to Mom and Sirius."

"We just established that pranking them was not called for.'

"Oh, yes," said Tonks, "we're agreed on that, but we also established that you cannot yet be trusted without the adults responsible for you knowing what trouble you are capable of getting up to."

"Oh," said Harry, "Fine, yes, that would be better."

"Good," said Tonks, "And remember neither the inspiration nor the desire is a crime, only the action can be a crime, or if you're from one of the stricter sects, the decision to act is the crime, even if you are thwarted before your act succeeds."

Harry shivered and nodded.

"If 'knowing that you'll be caught' is enough deterrent to never commit the crime, then by all means, keep witnesses handy."

"Right," sighed Harry, "Speaking of declaring capabilities, Um … Has Sirius remembered to mention that I'm an animagus?"

"Registered?"

"On parchment yes, but they want me to come by for pictures later, I guess that should happen this week."

"Yes, it should," said Tonks, "What animal?"

"Lion."

"Male?"

"Very," said Harry.

Tonks giggled hard with her nose wrinkled up and her tongue part way out. It was extremely odd, and somehow endearing.

"Show me?" she said.

Harry looked around, "outside, would be better," For all that this house looked like a mansion from the outside, for all that it had six bedrooms on this floor. Her room wasn't very big. None of the bedrooms had been very big. Only the sitting rooms. As if the house were intended to mimic dorm life … as if whoever designed it hadn't liked any house they'd lived in until Hogwarts, or university, and built from that inspiration.

"Alright," she said, "now or after your formal presentation at lunch?"

Harry smirked, "after lunch, you haven't shown me your clothes."

Tonks smirked, "you haven't shown me your ideal female form."

Harry shrugged and walked around the bed to the mirror.

He practised.

He practised making herself as much as possible like himself, which ended up weirdly like Bellatrix actually.

She tried making herself as much like each of the girls who'd let him see them naked (or merely in no more than minimal pyjamas).

She tried mixing and matching, until she ended up with a well muscled, yet well marbled, body-shape like Susan's, but the Patil's skin colour, and straight blond hair, down to her waist, with a streak of Weasley red, a streak of Malfoy green, and a streak of ravenclaw blue. And eyes an even bolder green than his normally were.

"Well?" she said turning to Tonks, "Which bit of crazy should I tone down, or do they work together as well as I think they do?"

"You look like … a punk rocker I know," said Tonks.

"A what?"

"Muggle thing I'm exploring," said Tonks, "You like dancing?"

"Sure," she said.

"Good," said Tonks, "Something else for me to introduce you to later."

"Alright," grinned Harry.

"Is there a name to go with this persona?" said Tonks.

"Something like Hari Sher Tonks?" said Harry, "Or Black or Granger or Patil for that matter."

She frowned, "First name. Keep this simple. Yes, posing as my little sister is fine, or stick with a vaguely defined cousin is fine too, is there a first name you want?"

Harry shrugged.

"Was there a girl's name that was almost yours, in your parents' journals?"

"Not that I know of," said Harry, "my grandfathers were named after English kings for quite a ways back, not so sure about their daughters, My Mum and her sister were flowers, Grandmum Dorea was a Black, so …" he shrugged.

"So any of the queens," said Tonks, "or anything star related."

Harry shrugged, "Leona?"

"Hmm," said Tonks, "Arie? Ariah?"

"No, those sound like little french quarter-veela who cannot say their h's."

Tonks shrugged, "Leona then, or Leanne?"

Harry shrugged, "you can call me Leanne, but tell people my name is Leona?"

"Sure, Leona," said Tonks, "Now, get dressed before you catch your death of cold."

"Mages don't die of colds," said Harry/Leona in exasperation, "we take pepper-up."

"Never mind that," said Tonks, "not twenty minutes ago you were so aroused by the thought of borrowing some of my clothes, I thought you were about to promise sex and your first born for the honour."

"Not promising my first born for anything," said Leona, "but sex for clothes sounds like a contract we could negotiate."

"There," said Tonks, "By the official definition, you are a slut."

"Not yet," said Leona, "show me the clothes first."

So they went through clothes.

Starting with underwear, of course.

She appreciated the aesthetics of the muggle panties, but for comfort and practicality, she eventually re-donned her own wizard drawers.

Tonks didn't really seem to mind, though she did mention that Leona might only be objecting to Tonks' underthings not being quite her size.

Given that what she'd chosen instead was even more baggy, Leona didn't believe that. But she didn't argue, they moved on to bras, shirts, specifically tee-shirts and tank tops that fit, skirts, dresses, skinny dresses, (not enough movement, no thanks), duelling kits, then back to jeans and skinny jeans, (look great but movement issues again). Tonks grinned enticement again, "Try these," she said and handed Leona a pair of black cut-offs looking well used.

Leona took them dubiously, but tried them on. Skinny jeans again, but cut just below the knee. So there was less loss of movement.

"Tighter, yet better," said Leona, "But still not great."

Tonks looked her over critically, "Roll them up once, they're supposed to stop just far enough up to not restrict the knees."

Leona rolled them over once, and danced a few steps, and tried several dodges.

"Merlin, Tonks," said Leona, "May I have these?"

Tonks made eyes at her, "Will I see you in them often?"

"No," said Leona, "I was thinking of owling them to Susan."

"Susan?"

"Bones," said Leona.

"Susan Bones! Only if it is done in a completely anonymous, deniable, and untraceable way," said Tonks, "My boss's boss's step-daughter … wait how old are you? And I thought I was the reckless one."

"Like a month and a half younger than her or something," said Leona.

"And I just fucked your brains out sodom style," said Tonks, "What was I thinking?"

"That I asked you to?" said Leona, "Why is this a problem now?"

"I'm over eighteen," said Tonks.

"We're both between fourteen and twenty-one," said Leona, "If we're counting muggle style."

"We're not counting muggle style," said Tonks, "You're fourteen?"

"I'll be fifteen at the end of July," said Leona.

Tonks shrugged, "And Susan Bones probably already is?"

Leona shrugged, "But I'm like a year and a half older if you count which ways which of us have been orphans."

Tonks blinked, "is that really a thing?"

"Yes," said Leona, "We think of her as my little sister, though we would totally shag once she's old enough."

"Who's 'we'?"

"She and I," said Harry, "our friend group."

"She's not the girlfriend that you were alluding to earlier?"

"No."

"Oh," said Tonks, "I think I'd better not let you send those to her. Though I will show you where to buy more, in case things change."

"Alright," said Leona, and looked down at herself, and then in the mirror, "I think this is a complete outfit, would you like to do my hair?"

Tonks stared at her, then smiled somewhat sadly, "yeah, alright, what do you want?"

"Something completely different than my usual," said Leona with a shrug, "surprise me."

"Alright," said Tonks thoughtfully, "as a muggle, the only way for your hair to be like that is bleach and dye."

"Plausible," agreed Leona,

"(Which I keep around in case muggles come over expecting me to have all the apparatus they'd need to look the way they see me looking.)"

"Good to know. Shall we go to my room for my hairbrush?" said Leona.

"Yes," said Tonks, following along, still calculating. "With that skin colour, the options … depend on which ethnicities we want to evoke."

"All of them, and none of them," said Leona, "You said it's less rude to maintain maximum flexibility of expectations from the beginning, rather than lull them into a false sense of security?"

"I didn't say that, but, yes exactly," said Tonks. "Hmm … I think, Corn rows then," said Tonks, "But not too small, and…"

"Not in my face," said Leona, "and not so tight that there's nothing left to swing down my back."

"But you're fine with several small braids?"

"Yes," said Leona.

.

When Tonks let Leona look in the mirror, her hair was done in cornrows out from her part, then back along her ear to her neck, then falling free, with the pattern continuing inward in concentric rectangles until the last pair of braids only ran straight back. And all terminating with a bead and a knot, the beads were transfigured of alternating jade and ruby. And clicked delightfully when she swung her head.

Best of all, her patches of colour were spread out fairly evenly among at least two braids each. Leona added the finishing touch by attaching her veela hair clip just back from the top of her head, so the feathers trailed down the back, just where they should.

And since they were back in Tonks' bedroom to retrieve the hair clip, Leona pushed the rest of her 'Harry' clothes into his belt pouch and strapped that on. And her wand and holster too.

After which the discussion turned to: what Tonks should wear and what if anything they should do to her hair, to compliment the effect of Leona's ensemble.

.

When Sirius knocked on the door, Tonks was in plaid slacks and a tank top, and a different wand holster than before, which almost matched Leona's, except older and more worn, which somehow did not evoke 'poor' so much as it evoked 'bad ass in used clothes, not wannabe in brand new clothes' and Leona was styling Tonks hair into ringlets, with some smelly prehistoric ringlet potion that Tonks was partial to. She insisted that its effects were non-permanent and completely safe. (And that No, it wasn't expired.)

Leona privately wondered if an accident in an experiment to make its effects permanent was what had happened to Snape's hair, but she kept that to herself and dutifully helped her new step sister with her look.

"We're decent," called Tonks, "You may come in."

The door opened and there was Sirius.

Leona's prepared words died on her lips, Hello Papa, do you like my hair,Merlin, Padfoot, the look on your face, instantly became, Damn, Potter, you didn't tell me your godfather is hot!

Also, Since when does a half hour old persona have sarcasm and a sex drive so different from mine.

And, That's our father/godfather/uncle don't look at him that way. And, but he's old.

And, But we look at Nim that way, and she's older.

She turned her eyes away and resisted the urge to bring her hands up to cover her blush.

And, But as our thrall, Nim was under our influence to a similar extent that as a child we were under hers. We are under Sirius influence and protection and want it to stay that way for several more years. And the fraction of a fraction of political influence we might have more than him as the boy-who-lived doesn't compare to godfather and Head of ally House, and regent in role even if not regent by law. And him as man-who-was-exonerated, might be overshadowing our fame in some circles.

And, That's your fame Potter, thank god, and not mine.

And why the hell am I relating to a new persona as if to a familiar instead of as if to an animagus transform? Which ought to be what it was.

Because, as we almost quizzed Tonks on earlier, gender identity can extend into the soul, even if there's no reason it must.

And the Harry Potter body is male, Sher is male, Hedwig and Nim are not, all of them interface to Harry the soul at a similar level and shape, and ask Harry the soul for trivia and wisdom and value judgements just the same. It's a simple categorisation error, for Harry the soul to make.

And in all the cases he'd be held responsible for all their actions, while nominally under his control, he'd better learn to keep them under control.

Hence the current predicament.

"—My step sister Leona," Tonks had been saying.

"Leona?" muttered Sirius.

Tonks continued, "Leona, meet my cousin once removed, 'Uncle' Sirius, Lord of Black."

Harry/Leona nodded and kept her eyes and head down.

"Leona, Lion, Richard … Harry, of course," calculated Sirius aloud, "Merlin, you're blushing hard. I don't know how she put you up to that, or how many glamours it took … but … it's an impressive effect, I very definitely didn't recognise you and would have passed you on the street without knowing better."

Leona nodded and looked at him.

"Or, stopped and tried to chat you up," amended Sirius, "if I were still your age of course," he shrugged, "Whatever blackmail she has on you to make you do that, you don't have to, say the word and we're out of here."

Leona's mouth just opened and closed on its own, she had no coherent sentences to untangle from all the other words bouncing through her head.

"Merlin, you're blushing even harder, it must be juicy."

"Shut up, Papa," said Harry, "Just … be quiet, I … I'm not blushing about being a girl, it was … kind of my idea anyway, dressing up was anyway."

"Oh, god you're crying," he said and rushed to the edge of the bed and held her shoulder, "I'm always sticking my foot in," he said, "I'm sorry."

"Comes from having four of them," said Leona, and looked away again.

"It's just glamours right?" said Sirius, "nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It's not just glamours," said Tonks, "you cannot braid glamour hair."

"No but you can make a glamour of braided hair," said Sirius and slid his hand across her scalp and returned to her shoulder, "Then you're either breaking the laws of magic and I want to know how, or Lily Potter has out-pranked the rest of the marauders combined."

In other words, Sirius was almost ready to believe that Harry had been a girl all along, but hidden it until now.

That was frightening, and amusingly probable actually, lets see, how many people could Harry count who had definitely witnessed enough to guess his gender.

For sure Petunia Dursley, probably Madam Pomfrey, possibly Professor Snape, probably whoever had changed his nappies from the time that Lily had died to the time that Petunia had found him on her front step, which from the sounds of it might or might not include Hagrid and Professor McGonagall.

But none of them were here, and almost certainly would not have been consulted until start of school, if then.

Yes, amusingly plausible.

"That is for me and my partners to know," said Leona, "and you to beg to find out."

Tonks cackled until she had to slump back onto her pillows for air.

Leona's blush was gone now, righteous anger for the win. And now she had him on the defensive, and he'd probably stay out of her love life for … probably until she was seventeen or graduated or whenever. Perfect. Now she just had her own behaviour to adjust.

She overcame the urge to draw her wand and cancel the transfiguration. (The last time she'd gotten overwhelmed enough to try that Tonks had grabbed her wand away and said, "you're in my skinny jeans, don't change size and bust a seam. What's gotten hold of you this time?" And so they had sat on the edge of Tonks bed, and stared at hot very capable Quidditch players, and resisted the urge to pet themselves. Though Tonks hinted that she didn't understand why not, about the petting themselves.

But it had helped Leona feel better about her control.

And remembering it helped Leona now.)

The inspiration was not the action. A mistake without mens rhea was not a crime of commission, and mens rhea with no action wasn't anything. Unless your sect taught that covetousness or lust were a special case. In which case you took that up with your priest, or with your therapist, not with your policeman.

Leona took a deep breath and looked up, and saw a man wearing a desirable body, instead of a desirable target that happened to have a friendly soul inside.

"Sorry, Padfoot, I'll be alright now I think."

"You sure, Sher?"

"Yes," said Leona, "I'm sure."

"I thought for sure it was pronounced sher."

"Really Sirius?" said Leona, "you want to add sher / sure to the catalogue of running gags, compared to Sirius / serious they are pathetically easy to tell apart."

"Hmm," said Sirius, "I guess you're right. Anyway, it's time for lunch. Andromeda says wash up and come down."

"Good," said Tonks.

"Yes, Papa," said Leona.

"Are you sure about all this 'papa' stuff, Leona?"

Leona shrugged, "maybe it will wear off with more time and distance from my stay in France. And my jealousy of my hosts there. Or maybe it will stop completely when I'm not trying out a female persona, or more to the point, when there's more source material on the top of my mind than just Gabrielle and Fleur."

Sirius rolled his eyes, not in mockery, but … perhaps in thoughtful reconstruction of her calculation.

"Probably," agreed Sirius, "and you just convinced me that you're Harry, and not just coincidentally carrying a lot of his knowledge."

"Thanks," said Leona, and patted the back of his hand, before climbing around him and to her feet.

.

At the dining room door, Leona froze. Sirius patted her shoulder, kissed her forehead, and edged around her.

"What the hell are you smirking about, Sirius?" said Andromeda after he'd taken a seat, "If you've greased my chair or enchanted it with sound effects, I'll feed your dinner to the dogs."

"Yes, Dromeda, I'll behave, (today)."

"Good," said Andromeda, "what did you do?"

"Professional courtesy, requires me to keep my mouth closed, and allow you to enjoy the surprise for yourself."

"Harry did Nymphadora's hair, just like you warned us earlier?"

Sirius stared at her, deer in the headlights, then pouted and nodded.

"Fine," sighed Andromeda, "You did tell them to come to lunch?"

"Yes, of course," said Sirius, "I may be a hungry stray, but I wouldn't take food out of the maw of growing cubs."

"Right," sighed Andromeda.

"Good way to lose a hand," muttered Sirius.

Tonks got tired of waiting and shoved Leona forward past the door frame and into sight from the dining room.

"That's … um… a bit more than doing each others hair," said Andromeda.

"Does it look OK?" said Leona tentatively, (as if she didn't know she'd attract (or repel) the eyes of half the boys in her cohort, mage or muggle,) the half that took the time to look at crazy and admire what they saw.

"Well!" said Andromeda, "who's idea was it anyway?"

"I did the dye," said Leona, "Tonks helped with the bleach, and the braids, I'm … not so good at making them small."

"Right," said Andromeda, "And the tan?"

Leona shrugged, "What tan?"

"Did you have a glamour over what you picked up in France?" said Tonks.

"Oh, that," said Leona, and shrugged.

"Sit down and lets eat," said Andromeda.

.

Once the food was served and blessed and the familiar task of stowing it away had commenced, (Yay for simple English food, not so yay for the grease), Andromeda turned to Leona, "Harry," she said, "are you a girl?"

"I don't understand the question," said Leona.

"You do know what a girl is?" said Andromeda.

"Oh, sure," said Leona.

"And what a boy is?" said Andromeda.

"Yes," said Leona.

Andromeda raised an eyebrow.

"Men grow beards unless they try not to, women grow," she patted her chest, "whether they want to or not," she looked up for approval, then looked away and muttered, "unless there is not enough to eat."

Andromeda dropped her silverware with a crash.

Leona jumped up to dash from the room.

She hadn't meant for a repeat of the first evening at Malfoy's. But it felt like … it felt like the kind of honesty that required registering an animagus form, or an ability to self transfigure.

Before she'd gone a full pace a hand caught her arm and spun her back and caught her and picked her up. And when she'd adjusted to not being in charge of her own balance. Tonks held her close, and picked up Leona's knees and sat down again. She settled Leona in her lap, and held her even closer, "Gryffindors don't run from danger," she whispered, "and Hufflepuffs don't run from family."

"I can run toward danger all day," said Leona, "It's facing eyes that I have a problem with."

"What?" said Andromeda.

"I don't like being famous," bit out Leona, "And I don't like people watching what I'm doing, except when I'm rescuing someone, and they're watching for where they can jump in to help."

"Oh," said Andromeda.

"Or teaching them how to defend themselves, That's fine. People watching me to rescue me, that …"

She curled in on herself. Tonks squeezed tighter.

But then, the only times he really had to face that was … Hagrid, Hermione, the entire Quidditch stadium, twice, Severus, Hermione again, Draco's parents …

The one time he'd had multiple people all look at him with concern, and about starving punishment. Draco had taught him to flea. Except that hadn't been meant as an instruction for dealing with the situation, it had been meant to stave off boredom.

Drat, he needed to recalculate a lot of things.

But what other examples did he have to work from? Neville? That was a long time ago.

Susan, confronting them about … feeling excluded. She hadn't run, she'd figured out what was going on, said her piece, stood her ground, waited for them to understand the problem and what she wanted, waited for them to accept the change, waited for them to accept her as she was instead of as a gemino of any of the rest of them.

What did Harry want?

Sex tutoring as a girl. But he could put that off until Hermione … unless Hermione came back betrothed, which seemed only mildly possible, but it had been long enough for anything to happen. And Nim was asleep and harder to wake up every time he tried.

Mostly he wanted to feel secure that there was someone to snuggle with, when he wanted a snuggle.

And to know if Tonks was the choice this summer.

Aunt Andromeda thought Tonks was a girl. And she thought Harry was a girl

Harry really didn't mind staying a girl for a while, maybe the remainder of the summer. It was a small price to pay compared to no Dursleys. On the other hand … there were Weasleys and Luna to think about.

And yet, that was a lie of the same magnitude and opposite polarity, as having a whole girl persona and not registering it.

Then the thought formed of having an anonymous persona or lots of them, and rather than using them to get away with everything mean that ever took his fancy (because it couldn't be traced back to him), instead using it to do anything remotely normal that he wanted in public and no one staring at him because he was not obviously Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived.

He'd have to think about that. It also made the muggle girl persona completely irrelevant, he was already anonymous in the muggle world, it was only in mage society that he was famous and stared at.

Except that he'd started all this to learn what his girls would like in the absence of Nim's help, and to have a way to screw around without it counting as cheating, and … ugh that thought didn't even make sense once he put it into words.

By normal definitions of cheating it didn't change what counted, and Padma had made it clear, she didn't care what happened inside Lion's-Keep, and she liked him helping veelas attain adulthood. Or at least, she was proud that he'd been asked to help a particular veela attain her adulthood.

And none of the others had bothered to claim him in deed, and only Parvati had tried to claim him in words but hadn't demanded the deed. Ginny and Susan wanted him in word at least, but they were … they didn't feel old enough. Susan certainly was shaped big enough, like Neville had been, like Leona was right now.

Maybe it was time that he admitted they were as old by the numbers, as Hermione had been when she'd asked for what she wanted. But he'd made those numbers up based on Hermione, the only girl he really knew at the time, and she was an outlier in accomplishments and tight ethical analysis.

He might have been unfair with the others.

.

"She seems completely catatonic," Tonks was saying.

"You blocked her physical retreat, and you didn't expect mental retreat next?" said Andromeda.

"No, I … and nothing she just said made sense, she didn't go through all the trouble of fixing her hair to get stared at, and then say she has a phobia for being stared at."

"That's not what he said," said Sirius, "He said being the centre of paparazzi type attention is merely annoying, but being shown concern is overwhelming. Being stared at for having crazy hair is something he has complete control over, he can dye it back to black and goes on with his life as if nothing has happened."

"Sirius," said Andromeda, "Do you want to try again with female pronouns maybe?"

"No, I don't," said Sirius, "I will continue using male pronouns to discuss Harry in the abstract, and female to discuss this Leona persona he came by somewhere, until he notifies me of a different preference."

"Are you adamant about that?" said Andromeda.

"Yes, it is standard animagus etiquette, the additional form gets its own names and pronouns, unless the mage states otherwise, friends allowed to be in the know, are often but not always permitted to use form name as a term of endearment, at least in private," said Sirius, "Harry is an animagus, which is how I know he isn't a metamorphmagus. Whatever he's doing now," Sirius shrugged, "it's got to be either temporary or … intended to be temporary, whether or not he knows how to reverse it, (or wants to), is a different question and can be left for another time."

Andromeda huffed, "you're sure about that?"

Something is wrong with Andromeda, Leona realised. She cannot face or comprehend something about gender, not sure what. And then she remembered the narrative of documents Nim made Harry show Neville. And Nim's dementor dreams and boggart.

Andromeda had been abused too, at least until Nim had rescued her, (if Nim even had been able to do that, if that part hadn't been a lie. Some of those documents certainly had been forged). Harry's abuse left him prone to intense feelings about food providers, kindness in general, and concerned attention. Andromeda's abuse had made her unable to hear her offspring tell her that she wasn't entirely female, and repeatedly that she didn't like her name.

Poor Tonks.

Poor Andromeda.

Nim, I wish you were awake, and could give me advice.

"No," said Sirius, "I am not certain, but I am significantly more certain of that, than that Lily Potter risked her own life and the happiness of her family to prank the world about the gender of her newborn."

"What?" said Andromeda.

Sirius opened his mouth, then narrowed his eyes and closed his mouth, "I am not at liberty to discuss it, but regardless of James' sense of humour, for strategic reasons, Lily would not have gone along with such a prank, just to amuse James."

.

The discussion became more and more heated, and less and less about Leona/Harry, until finally Leona relaxed far enough to get up and return to her own chair and her own lunch. Tonks shot her a small encouraging smile, and also went back to eating.

Eventually the conversation turned to summer schedules. Andromeda was already on vacation. Tonks' vacation didn't start until she finished training. Ted's 'vacation' had already been eaten up by days when nothing was needed in the office but he could take time off whenever he wasn't due in court, as long as he kept his responsibilities taken care of, just that no more of his time off would be paid this year.

Harry needed to visit the ministry for his animagus photos, and Diagon to pick up his armour.

Tonks wanted to take Leona 'clubbing'. Which apparently meant dancing in an environment where there were enough drunk adults that no one would notice that you didn't know how to dance yet. Apparently one of Tonks' favourite activities.

Andromeda had things she was planning to accomplish with her vacation, and had already started with disassembling a coffee table and scouring all the paint off.

Apparently there were potions for that, more toxic but less smelly and significantly more biodegradable than their muggle counterparts. However that worked.

From the looks of the lived in parts of the house, and the discrepancy between them and the common rooms that weren't actually used, Leona suspected Andromeda wouldn't mind help with the housework while she tried to stay busy all day with her art projects.

Given the reactions of the Malfoys, Grangers, and Delacours to Harry's offers to help with housework, compared to the Dursleys and the Weasleys, Harry knew better than to offer, when he could just do what seemed to need doing while no one was paying attention.

Also Leona unlike Harry, didn't seem at all inclined to get pinned down by a long term offer to help. Interesting.

.

By and by Sirius left.

Tonks got on the phone and called several friends, apparently about tracking down a favourite band and what restaurants they'd be at in the near future. Because 'My cousin Leona' really ought to get to see them 'live'.

To get distance from that conversation and all the coded gossip and who knew what all, Leona went to her room, removed her hair clip, and added an imperturbable to her hair, and took a shower.

Half because she wanted to wash off the stench of her earlier panic attack, and half because … she wanted to touch herself. Not that she wanted or needed or craved sexual touch or climax or anything. Only that she'd been in this body for a couple hours now, and wanted to explore it.

In the end she did not pet herself to climax, but she did explore the range of sensations she could expect from her chest and her limbs and her nether regions.

She also found bits of instinct that seemed intended to guide her to seek out skin, especially naked people, especially with real live penises for pleasure instead of, or in addition to, her own fingers. She had not embedded that in her self-vision when she'd modified this body to suit her tastes, so she had to suspect that it was either a normal part of the female experience, or was embedded in the spell's arithmancy where she hadn't deciphered it.

Which didn't seem impossible, it was a very complex spell.

The relevant guiding principle she had from her life as Harry told her to 'take no action unquestioned.' All the more so when she knew the action was from the influence of others, whether it be the command of the Dursleys, or a bodily instinct, or the suggestion of a book (sentient or otherwise), or a familiar, or a professor (wielding the Imperious or confundus, or just a stern glare).

So … it was a suggestion to be suspicious of, not that there was anything wrong with those activities, but it was a different group of suggestions than his male body normally gave him, and therefore it would take time to adjust to it going on in the background.

When she'd gotten out of the shower she ended the transfiguration, which only switched the location of her red and green streaks. Right, unless badly designed, or badly cast, or including a locking effect that specifically blocked that: transfigurations stacked. And living-to-living transfigurations by reputable designers had safety interlocks to ensure against them being reversed in the wrong order, nor broken nor removed nor dispelled in any way other than letting them reverse their effects. Anything transfiguration related that did not have that safety feature probably counted as a curse or a healing charm.

Several dozen living-to-living untransfigurations later, she was Harry again, black hair, lightning bolt scar, need for glasses (damn it). At least there was one unsolicited change which Harry hadn't found disorienting, mildly helpful even.

.

After a nap and half an hour of study, Harry switched back to Leona, just for the fractional reduction in eye strain.

Tonks came and found her reading, checked the subject matter, muttered something complimentary about good study habits, and wandered away and came back with parchment work of her own, and sat very very close to work on it.

It felt like something Gabrielle would do, except Tonks was eight inches taller than Leona instead of eight inches shorter than Harry.

She didn't mind the closeness, it was the … looming height that bothered her.

"Can you be any shorter?" said Leona.

"Can you be any taller?" said Tonks.

"Sort of," said Leona, "But I have to trade away other things for it."

"Same here," said Tonks.

"I don't mind if you're fat," said Leona.

"I mind," said Tonks, "and I'm not getting in your light."

"Not in my light actual, just … in my … space."

"You want me to sit farther away?"

"Closer actually," said Harry, "just I need to be able to see."

"The window and the door toward downstairs?" asked Tonks immediately, as if it were the logical meaning of Harry's very vague request.

"Yes, that."

Tonks nodded, and stood up, after several seconds of assessing and pacing, she levitated an arm chair out of the way, then levitated Leona, couch and all, ninety degrees into its place, then put the arm chair where the couch had been, and resumed her position next to Leona, this time close enough that their thighs and elbows touched, instead of only their knees.

"Thank you," whispered Leona.

"You're welcome," whispered Tonks.

Leona shivered.

Tonks patted her knee, then resumed her examination of her parchments.

At one point Leona glances over at it. It seemed to be lecture notes from a class … possibly on the psychology of criminal behaviour when there are police around.

.

...-...

{End Chapter 3}

A/N: This isn't really supposed to be a chapter break, but I try to keep my ff dot net chapters a reasonable size and this chapter was not.

A/N 2: I apologise to my early readers, for not realising that gender bending was a thing that my cis readers might need a content warning about. I've added a note at the beginning of the story and, I will try to label the appropriate sub-chapters such in the future, but given my apparent mental block about that, I'm hesitant to predict how well I'll do. Feel free to notify me if I slip up again.

(What is this strange anger, some sort of non-binary privilege or something?)

No really, I don't believe in trigger warnings, but I do believe in accuracy in content labelling.