Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter One
In Which Something Changes.

	Harry Potter woke up that morning just a little bit late, and so
decides to abstain from his normal morning masturbation, even though it might
make him a little cranky.  That decided, he walks up to the urinal, and
reaches through his fly, and finds, in the words of the old, well, a little
bit, muggle song, `that Mister Happy was missing.'

	Now this had never happened before, and was a little disconcerting, so
he retires to a stall to investigate.  Sitting on the toilet, he assertains
that, unlike the song, it hadn't been cut off, and, so far as he could tell,
he has a full set of the proper girl-bits.  Smooth curve of pubic mound,
covered in curly black hair.  Thickish outer labia, thinner, softer, inner
labia, which stick to his fingers rather like the head of his penis had, when
he pulled back the foreskin, just slightly damp.  A little stiffish foreskin,
no, prepuce, no, hood, over his clit, which started soft and floppy, but got
hard as he thought about it. A little bit back of that, there was a little
knot? that he thought ought to be his urethra, and towards the back of his
labia, a tight little depression that might be a vagina.

	Being a normal, if quiet, self-contained, and almost pathologically
cautious, teen-age boy, he thought this was kind of neat, because otherwise
he'd have to panic, and then everyone would be in his business, poking fun,
and generally being horrible.  Besides, if he just sucked it up and drove on,
in army terms, either things would go back to the way they were, or he'd get
used to it.  Panic averted, he decides that since he was already in the stall,
he might as well have his morning masturbation anyway, just to see what was
different.  Of course.

	The usual technique, being just grab the penis about the foreskin and
stroke back and forth, didn't seem like it would work very well, since his
clitoral hood just didn't seem like it would stretch that well.  He pinches it
gently and gives it a tentative pull.  Well, it stretched quite a bit, but it
wasn't a terribly nice feeling, so he let it go.  Hmm.  He slips his index and
middle finger between his labia, cupping his clitoris in the little crease
between the two of them, and rubs gently.  It clung, shifting in little jerks,
as he strokes back and forth.  He keeps rubbing, as it was a sorta nice
feeling, and he expects it will dry out a little, and then slide much more
easily.  It does, and he starts rubbing more firmly.  "Nice", he thinks.
After a few more strokes, however, his fingers brush a damp, slippery warmth,
somewhat like motor oil.  He stops, and rubs some more onto his fingers, and
brings it up to smell.  It is clear, and smells nothing like motor oil, and is
very slickery.  He rubs it between his two fingers and thumb, pondering,
then, "Oh, right," and curls his fingers, extends his thumb, and licks a
taste of his lubricant from his thumb.  He ponders a moment, and decides that
it was, altogether, a nicer taste than Cowper's Fluid or semen, and slips
his fingers back between his labia, sweeping to lube his clitoris firmly, and
then goes back to the firm rubbing he had used earlier.  It was nicer now, the
lube almost seeming to magnify the sensation.  Moments later, with the usual
quiet, almost strangled, gasp, he comes.  That, he decides, was quite nice.

	He wipes his fingers on some toilet paper, urinates, dabs at himself
to catch any drips, then pulls his boxers back up and leaves the stall.  He
washes his hands, his face, steps back to see if anything else had changed.
His hips are still narrow, his waist still the same boyish shape, his breasts,
he peeks down his shirt as he walks back to his room, still defined by the
pectorial muscles under them, nipples still tiny little points.

	If he's still like this in a week or two, he decides, he'll talk to
Madame Pomfrey or Professor McGonagall about it.  With his problem dealt with,
he gets dressed and heads down to breakfast.



Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Two.
In Which No One Else Notices.


	Harry watches Proffesor Umbridge with the firm intensity he finds
somewhat disturbing.  He doesn't like her.  In fact, he rather doubts anyone
likes her, but he has found that watching Delores Umbridge is rather
satisfying.  The way she rather jiggles when she moves, the roils of fat
shifting with her, her little toad-like smile.  Harry is rather sure that he
hates her.

	So why, he wonders, does he keep having her appear, either willing or
not entirely unwilling, in his masturbatory fantasies?  He knows it isn't
because he finds her attractive, although she would be much more so if she
wasn't so horrible.  He rubs his hand, and if she didn't wear such atrociously
ugly clothing.  Well, all right, there is _nothing_ he can find, other than
the bare fact of her being female, that would make her attractive.  That is
what he finds disturbing, when she shows up, on her back, knees drawn up by
soft little hands to either side of her breasts, her flesh sloshing as she
rocks her hips to meet his thrusts.  He really doesn't like what it says about
him, that he so enjoys that fantasy.

	He rather hopes that it's only that, in those fantasies, he's in
control, that her supplication is sweet.  In his other fantasies, he's rarely
in control, whether it is Hermione binding him to the bed, then exploring him
with gentle fingers, a smile on her features, then when she gets to his
crotch .  .  . Generally that one falls apart, there, as she rushes off to
find a book, leaving him bound unhappily on her bed, half exposed, for the
last week or so.  He'll have to tell her, eventually, or it will come out on
its own, since his breasts are ever so slightly bigger, and his hips slightly
more curved, already.  Later, though.

	`Potter!' Umbridge has noticed his drifting attention.

	`Yes Professor?' He replies, glancing at the notes his dict-a-quill
had taken.  There is nothing he didn't expect, having forced himself, over
the last weekend, to read the text.

	`What did I last say?'

	`"Potter!"' he quotes, smiling, managing a fair copy of her sweetly
snide tone.

	Someone giggles.

	`Before that,' she says, miffed, `As you well knew.'

	`You were talking about possible legal consequences of using a
defensive spell, which can include fines, corporal punishment, jail time, or
imprisonment.  Use of a debilitating spell when a less damaging spell would be
more appropriate can be a criminal offense,' Harry says.

	`Good,' Umbridge says.

	Harry raises his hand.

	`What, Potter?'

	`What is a debilitating spell, professor?' Harry asks, `If someone
draws a wand on me, and attacks, is /Stupefy/ appropriate even if I don't know
what they are attacking me with?  What if they merely try a physical attack?'

	`/Stupefy/ is a debilitating spell, Potter,' Umbridge says, annoyed.

	`How about /Petrificus totalus/?'

	`That's also a debilitating spell, Potter.'

	`So, then, what do I do if some random person decides they want to
beat on me?  Run?'

	`That's hardly likely, Potter.'

	`It happens almost every year, Professor,' Harry tells her calmly.

	`Shut up, Potter,' Umbridge says.

	Harry puts his hand down.


Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Three
In Which Someone Notices.


	Harry slips into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, hoping no one will be
there.  His hand hurts rather dreadfully, and he's so angry he feels he'll
burst.

	He slips into a stall, and sits on the toilet, places his elbows on
his knees, his hands on his shoulders, and rests his head on his crossed arms.
He thinks, for a little bit, about crying, but then decides it wouldn't help,
and blinks to clear his sight.

	He sits back, opens his belt, and the fly of his trousers, then shoves
them and his boxers down, pressing back to lift his hips and thighs.  He
pauses, pulls up his socks, then rubs along the crease between his labia and
thigh, even though it doesn't get nearly as sweaty as it used to, when it was
his scrotum pressed to his thigh all day.  He wipes his fingers off, then
begins to gently manipulate his clit, still blinking back angry tears.  "I've
gotten so weepy, recently.  Maybe it's a girl thing," he rationalizes, and
closes his eyes.  Umbridge is on her knees in her office, one of the atrocious
pillows under them.  He's leaned back, against her desk, ankles held together
by his pants, knees spread, his hands tangled in her mouse-brown hair, as she
strokes his clit with her tongue, soft, greedy moans coming from her throat,
her thighs clamped together as her hips rock, her hands cupping his buttocks,
then the tip of her tongue slips into his vagina, and he moans, his fingers
continuing to stroke his clit as he slips the first knuckle of his other index
finger inside.  She reaches around, and brushes his clit with her fingers,
resting her head against his thigh, a small, satisfied smile on her face, her
body quaking, `So nice,' she murmors, and he comes, hard, a squeek escaping.

	After a few moments he opens his eyes and pulls his fingers away.

	`I've never had a girl do that in here before,' Myrtle says.

	Harry sqeeks, and covers himself with his hand, clamping his thighs
together.

	Myrtle looks a little more solid than normal, less whispy, but is
still quite squat, her glasses glimmering in what little light there is,
`However did you become a girl, Harry?  It really oughtn't be possible.'

	`I don't know.  I just woke up one, a week ago,'  He looked at the
ghost suspiciously, `And how do you know I wasn't?'

	`'Cause I've looked,' she smiles at him.

	`What?  When?'

	`When you're in the bath, silly, or sitting in a stall in the
Gryffindor's boys room, when you don't think anyone's around.'

	`What?' Harry thinks he might about die of embarrassment.

	`It was interesting, in a slightly scary way,' Myrtle says.

	`What do you mean?'

	`Well, it was rather large, and I don't see how it could be
comfortable to have something like that shoved up inside.'

	`Well, not dry, certainly,' Harry says, remembering his own cautious
explorations with his fingers.

	`Let me look,' Myrtle says, suddenly.

	Harry shakes his head, and clenches his thighs together tighter.

	`I've never seen,' she pauses, `A girl's parts, not really.'

	Harry looks at her, `Not even your own?  I took a mirror with me to
the bathroom, the first evening I had them.'

	`Weren't you worried it would talk?'

	`It's a muggle mirror, they don't.'

	`Oh, how nice!  Let me see,' she says, almost whining.

	`Promise not to talk about it?'

	`Promise!' Myrtle says, smiling.

	Harry thinks that she looks almost pretty like that, and spreads her
knees, placing her hand on her thigh.

	Myrtle settles cold, ghostly hands on Harry's knees.  He shivers,
making a `Brr,' noise, and then they are warm.

	She leans in, then looks up at him from between his thighs, `I can't
see,' she frowns a little, `It's all closed up.'

	He places his fingers on either side of his labia, and pulls them back
a little, `Better?'

	She glances, looks up, smiles, `Much,' and leans in closer.  `Wow,
it's so pretty.  It looks so soft,' she smiles up at him, `May I touch it?'

	Harry firmly contemplates saying no, pulling his pants up, and running
away.  He also contemplates having Myrtle crying after him, whining about how
he hates her, and wouldn't let her touch, and just how horrible that would be,
and finally just how pretty she looked, her ghostly shape between his knees, a
smile on her face, asking to touch him.

	`If you're gentle,' he says.

	Warm translucent fingers trace the lubricated edge of his outer labia.
He shifts forward on the seat, and she takes one of his inner labia between
her fingers, stroking back and forth along its length.  She runs a fingertip
back and forth along the almost smooth curve of it.

	Harry lets out a little gasp.  Myrtle smiles, and runs one finger up
between his labia, pressing it just a tiny bit into his vagina, getting
another gasp, then a moan from each of them when she feels his clit throb
under her finger.

	She rubs small circles about his clitoris, and smiles, a faint glare
covering her glasses as Harry watches, shocked, pleased, a little bit awed,
perhaps.  It is much nicer than he expected.

	He whimpers, wanting her to press harder, move faster, but at the same
time, not, wanting this pleasant torment to continue indefinately.  His
fingers claw at his thighs, and his eyes slip closed, then he forces them open
again, sliding down further on the seat.

	She takes advantage, placing her hands on his thighs, and spreading
them further.  He whimpers, then shrieks, as she replaces them with her mouth.

	`Shh,' she draws back, and says.

	He nods, jerkily, whimpering softly.

	She licks his clitoris again, her lips soft against his labia, then
suckles a tender fold between them.  His hips jerk, and she loses contact with
a slurping noise.  He whimpers, again, and reaches to pull her against him.

	His hands slip through her hair, through her head, and he quickly puts
them back on his thighs, as she slips her tongue up inside of him.

	A loud moan escapes, and he is rewarded with soft fingers against his
clitoris, rubbing tiny circles, and she thrusts with her tongue, her other
hand warm and firm against one straining thigh.

	He gasps, gasps, warm chemical joy flowing through his veins, as she
presses firmly against his clitoris.

	She pulls back, pale, translucent face somehow shiny and wet, smiles
happily at him as she licks her fingers, wipes at her face, licks them again.
`Mmm,' she moans, a happy little moan, `I haven't tasted anything so yummy
before,' she says.

	`How?' Harry asks, `I thought ghosts couldn't eat anything.'

	Myrtle looks confused as well, leans in and licks a droplet of escaped
lube off Harry's thigh, then pulls back, a smile on her face, `Maybe it has
lots of spiritual energy or something.'

	`Oh,' Harry says, `May I?'

	`What?'

	`Kiss you?'

	Myrtle tries to figure out what his face is saying, worry written on
her own.  After a moment she decides it's worry, that she won't let her, that
she will, that she shouldn't.  She places her hands on his shoulders, and
leans in, presses a warm little closed lip peck against his lips, `Like that?'

	Harry nods, `More?' he asks in a small voice.

	`Yes,' and she kisses him again, opening her lips and slipping her
tongue against Harry's.

	Harry opens his lips, letting her deepen the kiss.



Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Four
In Which Ron And Hermione Are Surprised


	`Harry, you sure seem chipper this morning,' Ron greets over
breakfast.

	Hermione looks up, and smiles, `What happened?  You got back really
late last night, so I was a little worried.'

	`Oh, I had sex with Moaning Myrtle in her bathroom after Umbridge let
me go.  It was quite nice,' Harry says, smiling.

	Ron chokes on his scrambled eggs, and Harry and Hermione have to pound
him on the back.

	`Really, Harry, what why were you so late?'

	Harry just smiles, `If you don't want to believe me, that's fine.  No
one else does,' his face falls a little.

	`It's not that I don't believe you,' Hermione says carefully, `But
Myrtle?'

	`She is kinda sweet on him,' Ron says, thoughtfully.

	Hermione just stares at him, and Harry smiles, eating his fried
potatoes.
				      *
	During Double Potions, there's a minor disturbance as a ghost wafts
through the door, then she bends down low and slinks over to Harry.

	`I trashed Umbridge's office, and pitched that quill in the lake.  She
only had one of them, so she'll have to think of something else to do to you,'
Myrtle says softly.

	Harry smiles, `You didn't get cought, did you?'

	Ron's rather gape-mouthed, but turns back to their cauldron with
accrilarity when Hermione pokes him.

	Myrtle shakes her head, then slips out.  Harry checks his root, making
sure it's all sliced, then turns to Ron, `Have you added the crushed star
anise yet?'

	Ron shakes his head.
				      *
	After classes, while Harry's at Detention, Ron looks up from his
homework, `Harry and Myrtle?'

	`She is rather sweet on him,' Hermione says, `And they obviously got
up to something together.'

	`I want to go check,' Ron says, shutting his book and standing up.

	Hermione looks at him with a little bit of disgust, then follows suit.

	"Down the stairs, over, up the stairs," Hermione thinks to herself,
"For a building this small, it has far too many stairs."

	`Myrtle?' she asks, stepping into the bathroom.

	No one answers, so she checks the stalls, then walks over to the
counter and sets down, pulling out her text and laying it across her lap.

	Ron stares at her, `What are you doing?'

	`Waiting.  Pull out your work,' she tells him.

	With a grumble he does, scooching back against one of the walls.
				      *
	Some time later Harry staggers in, Myrtle's plump form at his side,
one arm wrapped about his shoulders.

	`What did she do to you?' Hermione asks, setting her work aside and
jumping from the counter.

	Ron scrambles up as well, and Myrtle hides behind Harry.

	Harry turns around, placing a hand on Myrtle's shoulder, which she
firms to support it, `They mean Umbridge,' smiles.

	`Oh,' Myrtle says, catching Harry's arm, which is trembling violently.

	Harry turns around, `Myrtle,' he brushes her fingers across his lips,
`Made a mess of Umbridge's office, so Umbridge made me move all of her
furniture to a new one.  Then back to the first one, and then to the new
office again.  She just let me go.'

	`Ouch,' Hermione says, `That doesn't seem right.'

	`Doesn't seem right to have her as Inquisitor either.'

	`She's got the mindset, though.  No One Expects the Spanish
Inquisition.'

	Harry frowns, `Surprise, that's the,' he pauses, `I don't remember
that skit at all.'

	Hermione drops her head into her hand, and shakes it.

	Ron and Myrtle look confused.


Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Five
In Which Myrtle Scares Harry

	Harry hurries into the bathroom, locks the stall door behind himself,
then raises the seat, opens his fly, and reaches.

	He remembers when his fingers hit his pubic hair.  He throws the seat
back down, shoves down his trousers, and sweeps his robes aside so he can
sit down, all to the sound of soft giggles.

	When he's finished his business, he says softly, `It wasn't
that funny, Myrtle,' but has a smile on his lips.

	`Still not used to being a girl?' she asks, settling across his knees.

	`I'm not sure I am one,' he replies.

	She slips a hand between his legs, brushing lightly over his vulva,
`Really?'

	Harry spreads his knees wider, `I was a boy for fifteen years, so why
would I become a girl now?  We haven't found anything in the library.'

	`They don't cover some things in the library,' Myrtle says, her
fingers stroking softly, wet with Harry's lubricant, `It's too easy to access
the Restricted Section.'

	`Oh,' Harry says, or maybe it was a moan, since he's doing that too.

	`You really should talk to McGonagall,' Myrtle says, and leans in for
a kiss.

	Once more Harry wonders how her lips can be so soft when her hands are
so hard, and both are as insubstantial as mist.  His hips rock with Myrtle's
shifting fingers, and wishes he could hold her while she touched him.
				      *
	`. . . We've got to do something about her,' Hermione finishes

	`I suggested poison,' said Ron grimly.

	`No . . . I mean something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and
how we're not going to learn any Defence from her at all,' says Hermione.

	Myrtle smiles, and ruffles Harry's hair, `I think that's a wonderful
idea.'

	`What?' Harry asks, and Ron looks confused.

	`You've survived more Dark trouble than anyone else in this school,
except _maybe_ Dumbledore, and teaching would be good for you,' Myrtle says,
and kisses him on the cheek.

	`What?' Harry stares at her, then turns to Hermione, who just nods.

	He turns to Ron, who is frowning, apparently in thought.  `That's an
idea,' Ron says after a moment.

	`What's an idea?' Harry asks.

	`You, teaching us Defence,' Ron says.

	`But . . . ' Harry pauses to gather his defences, `But I'm not a
teacher, I can't --'

	`Harry, you're the best in the year at Defence Against the Dark Arts,'
says Hermione.

	`Me?' says Harry, a shaky smile on his face, `No I'm not, you've
beaten me in every test -'

	`Actually, I haven't,' says Hermione coolly, `You beat me in our third
year, the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew
the subject.  But I'm not talking about test results, Harry.  Think of what
you've /done/!'

	Harry turns a little, the smile falling from his face, and looks into
Myrtle's eyes, `How do I teach luck?'

	`You don't,' Myrtle says, slipping a hand into his messy black hair,
`Luck won't help much without skill, so you just prepare them as best you can.'

	`How?' says Harry, and drops his head to rest on her shoulder.  Myrtle
rubs her cheek against his head, her hand cupping the back of it gently.
				      *
	`Cho,' Harry starts, then looks back at Myrtle for support.  She
smiles, and nods.  Harry turns back to the other girl, and continues, `Would
you come with us, next time we get to go to Hogsmeade?'

	`Sure, I'd like that.'

	`Cool,' Harry returns her smile, `We'll look forward to it, then.'

	Cho looks a little flustered for a moment, then says, `I'll see you
later, then,' and waves, fluttering her fingers as she spins and runs off.

	`See,' Myrtle says, ruffling Harry's hair, `That wasn't so difficult.'

	`No, it wasn't,' Harry turns to her and smiles, `Thanks.'
				      * 
	This time Harry got the silencing charm right the first time.

	The first time they had indulged in his bed, it only blocked some
sounds, and there's nothing quite like the gut-wrenching shock of `Harry!  I
didn't need to know you can make a ghost scream!' to ruin the moment.

	After that, Myrtle would check his spellwork before they got too
involved.

	`Good,' Myrtle says, slipping back into his bed through the spelled
curtains.

	Harry stretches languourously, already naked, and Myrtle smiles down
at him, rubbing one foot along the curve of his hip while she unbuttons her
top.  She drops it onto him, the ghostly fabric soft, nearly weightless.
Harry shivers, a soft, strangled giggle escaping as Myrtle draws her skirt
over his belly.

	She smiles, and flops her clothing over the hanger.  After losing her
knickers twice, and her bra once, and the rather insubstantial feeling while
they grew back, they'd figured out precautions against accidental loss.  So
long as her garments didn't get too far away, they were fine, but even a
little too far, and they'd start to vanish.

	Satisfied that they were stable, Myrtle flops down, as well as she
could flop, anyway, onto Harry, shifting to press her own rather modest bosom
against Harry's.  Harry smiles, and gently, pulls her up for a kiss, moving
just slow enough that Myrtle has time to support his touch before applying
pressure.  Myrtle's tongue jousts with his own, hard, stabbing thrusts
shifting to gentler carresses, then she pulls back, and Harry smiles at the
little trail of saliva that links their lips for just a moment after they
break the kiss.

	`Up,' Harry says, softly, sliding his hands down to her hips, then
urging her forward.

	Myrtle smiles, `Yes,' as Harry kisses his way slowly down her body,
the lovely little hollow between her collarbones, the gentle slopes of her
breasts, the hard sweetness of her nipples, the soft swell of her belly.
`*MMnnm*,' Myrtle moans, sharp, hands pressing firmly to Harry's head as his
tongue slips into her bellybutton.

	After several pleasant moments of that, he continues down, drawing the
ghost's eager form up.  He brushes his nose first through, an unpleasantly
shivery sensation, then between, Myrtle's pubic hair, and licks her gently,
slowly, savoring the inhuman sweetness of her lube.

	He pulls back a moment, getting a small, protesting whimper from
Myrtle, and smiles up at her, `You do know I love you, right?'

	`You never said,' she tells him.

	`I was sure I had,' he strokes her hip, `I'm sorry I didn't say so
earlier.'

	`Love you too,' she says, and shoves herself back, pressing her full
length against him, hugging him so firmly he squeeks in complaint.  Myrtle
grips him tighter, and kisses him, shoving her tongue into his mouth, moaning
happily.

	Harry's arms wrap around her, pressing against firm, plush flesh, his
eyes closed tight.

	Myrtle pulls back, smiles.  Harry shivers, opening his eyes, at the
feel of ghostly flesh sliding into his own.  He looks up, around, for any sign
of the girl.  There is none,  and the hanger is empty.

Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Six
In Which Harry Gets All Weepy

	Harry looks over his shoulder, blinks, and fat, heavy tears start to
trickle down his face again.  He pushes _Asiatic Anti-Venoms_ back, so as not
to drip on it, and closes his eyes.

	`I was wondering,' Hermione says awkwardly, `Whether you'd given any
thought to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry?'

	`No, not in the last week or so,' Harry says, eyes still firmly shut.
It doesn't stop the tears, which continue to drip from his chin.  He takes an
almost sobbing breath, but `Why?' doesn't waver much.

	`I meant, to our,' pause, `Well, my idea about you teaching us.'

	`I thought about it a bit, talked it over with,' he folds his arms on
the table, and hides his head behind them.  His fingers twitch, and the
unnerving quiet of a silencing spell surrounds him while his shoulders shake
and his fist beats with steady, silent force on the table.

	Hermione and Ron look at each other helplessly.
				      *  
	Nearly Headless Nick stops Harry in the hall, `If I had realized, I
would have warned you.'

	`Warned me about what?' Harry says, blinking reddish eyes in a blotchy
face.

	`About Myrtle.'

	`What about Myrtle?' Harry demands, fists clenching and little sparks
crackling in his hair.

	`There's a reason you don't see very many happy ghosts,' Nick says,
brushing a hand through Harry's hair, careful not to touch his skin.

	`Oh?' Harry asks, curious despite his sudden anger.

	`A ghost is here because they couldn't bear to leave the world,
because there was something they wanted or needed to do.  When they're happy,
the risk forgetting that, and just vanishing.'

	`Oh,' Harry slumps, a tired smile flickering at his lips, and turns
away, `Thanks.'

	`It's good to see it's worn off, though.  If it had held on a few more
years, you'd have to shave for the rest of your life, or just put up with
being a bearded woman.'

	Harry spins around, something that isn't quite anger flashing in his
eyes, `What are you talking about?'

	`It happens sometimes, mostly to girls, but sometimes to boys.  Their
parents really want a boy, or a girl, so they have one.  When the child grows
up, one day, they turn back.'

	`What?  Why didn't we find anything about that?'

	Nearly Headless Nick shrugs, making his head wobble, `It's wild magic,
so people don't like to talk about it.'

	`So I'm a girl.'

	`Yes.'

	`And I've always been a girl, except one or both of my parents wanted
a boy, so I was born as one.'

	`Yes.'

	`Why?'

	`I don't know.'

	`Right.  Thanks,' and with his shoulders slumped and a definite lack
of enthusiasm, Harry trudges back to his room.
				      *
	Harry looks at him, no, he thinks, _her_self in the mirror.  Same
little scar, same boyish face, same uncontrollable hair and ugly glasses.  She
sighs, takes her glasses off, washes the tears off her face, and leaves the
bathroom, trying to ignore the cold empty feeling in her belly.

	One of the twins, Harry thinks it's George, asks, `Ron, what's wrong
with Harry?  He's been all-' before the closing door cuts him off.

	`I fell in love with a ghost, who vanished on me, is what's wrong,
mostly,' Harry mutters under her breath as she walks down the hall.
				      *
	`Potter!' Umbridge calls from the front of the class.

	`Yes?' Harry asks, checking his notes.

	`Why aren't you reading?'

	`Because I reread this section last week, and it was just as
incoherent as the first time I read it.'

	`And that means you can just goof off and stare at the wall?'

	`Would you prefer I cried openly and sobbed out loud?  That's really
the other option right now,' Harry says, eyes shining, voice getting shakey.

	`Potter!  I won't tolerate this, this,' Umbridge is getting redder
with each "this", `This insolence!'

	Harry's hand twitches, and she colapses at her desk, her shoulders
shaking and fat tears rolling down her face, great gulping sobs wrenching
silently from her chest.

	Umbridge glares at the boy, then turns to Malfoy, who's watching with
something that might be glee on his face, `What are you staring at!  Don't let
that troublemaker distract you, Draco.'

Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Seven
In Which Harry Comes Out

	`Harry?' Cho asks softly, `Do you still want to go out, this weekend?'

	`Out?' Harry asks, confused, `Where?'

	`Hogsmeade?  You and Myrtle-' Cho cuts herself off too late as Harry's
face melts like an open-faced cheese sandwitch, and tears begin to trail down
his cheeks.

	`Sure,' Harry says, firming her face, but unable to stop the tears,
`I'd like that.  She was really looking forward to that,' her hand cups her
belly, where the coldness is twinging again.

	Cho notes the way Harry's curled around himself, and gently gathers the
taller boy into her arms, `Let it out, it'll make you feel better, for a
little while.'

	`No it won't.  I just can't stop,' Harry presses her face to Cho's
neck, whimpers, and begins to sob openly.
				      *
	`How is Harry?' Hermione asks Cho, when they pass in the hall.

	`She misses Myrtle terribly, but she'll live,' Cho answers.

	`Good.  Thank you for looking out for him,' Hermione gives Cho a quick
hug, and runs off.

	"Why did I say `she?'" Cho asks herself, then continues down the hall.
				      *
	`Potter,' Severous says with a strange gentleness, `I'd like to talk to
you after class.'

	`Yes, Professor,' Harry answers, looking at the mess she'd made during
potions.  It was a little bit too green, and a lot too smelly.
				      *
	`Potter,' Severus starts, `Generally I try to keep out of my student's
personnal lives, because I suck at it.  You shouldn't have messed that potion
up like that, however.'

	`What do you mean, Professor?  I frequently botch my potions,' Harry
smiles, pleased by the familiarity, and the way it doesn't remind her of-

	Severus cringes when Harry bursts into tears, then crumples to her
knees, resting her head on the table, `Potter!'

	Harry tries to pull herself together, `Professor?' she sobs.

	Severus opens his office door, and spots Hermione and Ron loitering,
`Could you please go get Professor McGonagall?  I need to talk with her and
Potter,' he says, then closes the door again.

	After a short discussion, Ron runs off.  Hermione stands and frets,
then leans over to press her ear to the door.  After a moment she shakes her
head, and stands upright again.

	Inside Snape's office, he is gazing at Harry with something like
sympathy, watching the green spread as the parchment on his desk soaks up
Harry's tears.

	`If you talk to anyone about this, and it gets back to me, I'll have a
reason to dislike you, other than that you look too much like your father.'

	Harry pushes back from the desk, and blinks, `Professor?'

	`I know something of what you're going through,' Severus closes his
eyes, takes a deep breath, catches something sliding down his cheek, and
presses it to the parchment in front of Harry.  His tear turns the parchment a
deep pink where it touched.

	Harry blinks, `What do you mean?'

	`When I was born,' Severus pauses, looks Harry in the eye, searching
for something, `My parents gave me the name of Samantha.'

	`Wha-'

	`Don't interupt.  Ask questions later,' Severus cuts her off, `By the
time I got to Hogwarts, I knew I was very cute, with this pale skin, thick
dark hair and brown eyes, and it showed.  I was sorted into Ravenclaw,'
Severus smiles at Harry's start of surprise, `Sammy Snape was a precocious
little girl, and full of herself,' a little half-smile spreads on his face,
then dies, `and I met Lily.  She was taller than me, strong, willing to put up
with a girl who got into lots of fights because she always knew better than
everyone else, even, no, especially when she was wrong.'

	`Lily?'

	`Quiet, for a little longer,' Severus chides, `I was crushing on her
from the first day we met.  Towards the end of fourth year, I finally mustered
the curage, and asked her out.  To my surprise, she accepted.  I was the
happiest girl alive, and we corresponded heavily over the summer.  When I got
back to Hogwarts for my fifth year, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I
could see my future all layed out, I'd graduate, marry Lily, and we'd live
together in a little cottage at the edge of the forest, have children, and
grandchildren to spoil, and a bowl of candy for anyone brave enough to visit
the scary old witches,' Severus impatiently wipes at his face.

	After Severus has been silent for a few moments, Harry asks, `So what
happened?'

	`The week before the second Hogsmeade weekend of my fifth year, I woke
up with something I shouldn't have had between my legs.  I was yelling and
screaming and looking for a knife so I could get rid of it when Lily used
`stupefy' on me.  When I could move again, she and Professor McGonagall were
standing over my bed in the infirmary, and McGonagall explained to me what had
happened, that somehow,'

	`You had been born a girl, even though you really were a boy.'

	`So you know?'

	`Yes, that much at least.  What happened?'

	`I just gave up.  I wouldn't talk to anyone, especially not Lily, even
though she tried.  I was so sure that it was just out of pity that I couldn't
see,' Severus closes his eyes again, `I chose a boy's name, moved into the
fifth-year boy's room.  I sucked at being a boy, and didn't really care.  My
appearance really wasn't as bad as I thought at the time, but I didn't do
anything with it, so after a while other people began to see me as being as
ugly as I felt.'

	After a while Harry decides Severus has finished speaking, `Lily who?'

	`Lily Evans, your mother.'

	`Why do you hate my father?  Because he married her?'

	`Because he was a horrible little bastard who enjoyed picking on
people, and she married him anyway.'

	`What?' Harry demands, `He couldn't have been!  He-'

	`Was always kind to small children, and animals, but anyone he thought
should be able to defend themselves was fair game.  A lot of the time, that
was me.  When I was a girl, I gave as good as I got, but I suck at being a
boy,' Severus turns away abruptly, `Now, Professor McGonagall should be here
soon, to make sure this isn't just some strange transfiguration.'

	`It isn't.  I'da changed back by now if it was,' Harry sniffles,
`Thank you, Professor.  That helps, I'm not sure why,' she stands up, `Being a
girl isn't what's got me all weeping in my cauldron,' she says, looking at the
door, `Myrtle hugged me, then vanished, a week ago.'

	`Moaning Myrtle?' Severus turns around, `Hugged you how? Wrapped her
arms around you, or actually made herself solid?'

	`She squeezed the breath out of me.'

	`I'm amazed.  Peeves barely manages to move things around, and he's a
much older, stronger ghost.'

	`Nearly Headless Nick said that ghosts are prone to forgetting why
they stayed when they're happy.'

	`Yes, but I don't think Myrtle would.  She's probably still around,
but doesn't have enough energy to manifest right now.'

	Harry starts as the cold lump in her belly twitches, `How?'

	`She should tell you what Olive Hornsby did to her, it's not my
place.'

	`Professor!' Harry cries out in joy, fresh tears springing from her
eyes, and wraps Severus in a tight hug, crying into his robe.

	Severus wraps tentative arms around her, then, his motions stiff and
awkward from long disuse, cradles her to his chest and strokes her hair.

	A firm hand knocks at the door, and Harry quickly extracts herself
from Severus's arms.

	`Open,' Severus says, and the door does, admitting Professor McGonagall
and a glance from a worried Hermione.

	Minerva closes the door, `So,' she looks Harry over carefully, `What's
the problem?'

	`I'm a girl,' Harry says.

	`I wouldn't have noticed.  It's not entirely uncommon, but fairly
rare,' Minerva says, taking Harry's hand in her own.  She squeezes it, turns
it over, presses up Harry's sleeve and traces the bones of her wrist, `You'll
be a looker when you get older,' she says, and smiles down at Harry.

	`I suppose,' Harry frowns, `There isn't anything I can do about it, is
there?'

	`Not really, no.  You can use cosmetic charms to pass as a man, but
that's a lot of work, and someone may notice anyway.'

	`Oh well.  It hasn't been too bad so far,' Harry smiles.

	`Good,' Minerva smiles at her, `Please, feel free to talk to me if you
have any questions, or need to make any arrangments.  You're not the first
student at Hogwarts to have their life turned upside down like this,' she
squeezes Harry's hand, then walks from the room, her robes swirling.

	Harry turns back to Severus, `If you were such a hotshot girl, Sammy,
how's about you teach me, and I'll try to teach you how to be a boy?'

	`You never were the best at that yourself,' Severus says, `And it's
been many years since I was a girl.'

	Harry looks crestfallen, `OK, I'll see you next class, then.'

	`I didn't say we couldn't.  Sunday night, for an hour or so?'

	`I've homework, and I'm going to Hogsmeade with Cho,' Harry notices
the way Severus's eyes have gone distant again, `But I'm sure I could be
finished by 9?'

	Severus smiles, a sardonic little smirk, but his eyes twinkle with
real happiness, `That would be fine, Harimad-sol.'

	Harry blinks, blinks again, then smiles, `I've even got a magic sword,
but it's in the headmaster's office.'

	`Go, get out of here.'

	`Thank you, Sammy,' Harry says, and gives him a hug.  He looks
completely lost for a moment, then awkwardly hugs the girl back.
				      *
	`What was that about?  You were weeping all day, weeping in his
office, and you come out all smiles?' Hermione demands, grabbing Harry and
pressing him back against the wall.

	`Two things,' Harry smiles, leans forward, gives Hermione a quick peck
on the lips, `I'm a girl,' Hermione looks surprised, and Ron gasps, `and
Myrtle isn't gone!'

	`What do you mean, you're a girl?' Ron demands.

	Harry, "Angharad Potter," she thinks to herself, "Not a bad name at
all," throws an arm around Hermione's shoulders, then wraps Ron under the
other one, and starts back towards the Gryffindor tower, `Apparently . . . '
	
Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Eight
In Which Harry Goes Out

	`So,' Cho says softly, `You're all smiles again?'

	`Myrtle's not gone,' Harry says, `She just used too much energy, and
can't manifest,' she grabs Cho's hand, presses it firmly into her belly.

	About two inches in, Cho shivers violently, jerking her hand back,
`What was that?'

	`Myrtle,' Harry says, smiling, `I think she's asleep, too, since she
mostly ignores what's going on, and feels like she's sleeping.'

	Cho stares at Harry for a moment, then smiles as well, `Wow, that's,'
her smile falters, `That must be great for you,' and she starts crying, right
there in the hallway.

	Harry gathers the smaller girl in her arms, and cradles her against
her almost non-existant busom, `Shh.  I don't think he'd want you to be sad.'

	`No, he wouldn't, but,' Cho tries to compose herself, `Why isn't he
here?  Haunting me?'

	`Because you're Cho Chang, not Olive Hornsby,' Harry awkwardly strokes
Cho's hair.

	`What has that got to do with anything?'

	`Myrtle stayed because Olive did something truely horrible to her, and
she couldn't let it go,' Cho nods against Harry's chest, `I don't know the
details, but Olive really didn't care about what she did to her, so Myrtle
never will be satisfied about it.  I think I might know what happened.'

	`What?' Cho chokes out, nuzzling against Harry.

	Harry flinches a little, `Olive was out and out horrible to Myrtle for
most of their school time together.  About a week before Myrtle died, she
started being nice, talking to her, walking with her, holding her hand.  Two
days before the basilisk got her, Myrtle was crying wherever she went.'

	`What happ-' Cho cuts herself off, `So she.'

	Harry nods, `Probably.'

	`How horrible.  That's just horrible,' Cho burrows herself closer to
Harry.

	Harry tries not to flinch.

	`What's wrong?' Cho asks.

	`They're very tender, today.' 

	`What?  Why?' Cho pulls back to study Harry's face.

	`I recently found out I'm really a girl.'

	Cho steps back even further, looking Harry up and down carefully, `So
you are.  Wow, that's two this year.'

	`Someone else at Hogwarts?'

	`No, my cousin in Japan.  She was most put out to find she's a boy,
and spend the last dozen letters whining about it.  Her girlfriend finally
managed to convince her that while she'd really prefer if she was a girl, she
wasn't entirely put off by her being a boy, and she's happy again,' Cho
shrugs.

	`It's amazing what one can deal with, when you've got someone to
help.'

	`It is, isn't it?' Cho smiles.

	Harry notices that her face doesn't get all blotchy when she cries,
and reaches out to wipe some of the wetness from her face.

	`So Cedric didn't care as much?  Enough to come haunt me?  Or
him?'

	`Valdemort?' Harry says.

	Cho flinches at the name, `Yes.  He didn't care that much?'

	`I don't think he was feeling anything but surprised, when he died.
It was really quick, and he wasn't even scared when it happened.'

	`So he's just gone.'

	`He shouldn't have been there, but he was, and he died,' Harry's face
sags, and she leans back against he wall.

	`It wasn't your fault,' Cho tells her firmly.

	`If Valdemort hadn't been trying to kill me, Cedric would still be
alive.'

	`Did you force him to come?'

	`No, but-'

	`Did you cast the Avadra?'

	`No, but-'

	`Did you use him as a shield?'

	`No, but he was there, and they killed him first, and I'm still
alive.'

	`Because you were lucky, and had the right skills to hold Valdemort
off for long enough to get out of there alive,' Cho says, `Not because you
sacrificed Cedric, not because you killed him.  It wasn't your fault,' she
grabs Harry by the shoulders, and stares into her eyes, `It wasn't your
fault.'

	`OK,' Harry says, `But it still feels like it is,' she closes her
eyes.

	`You did your best,' Cho says, then leans in and kisses the taller
girl.

	Harry jerks back in shock, banging her head against the wall sharply,
`Ow,' she says, and rubs the back of her head, smiling at Cho, `You startled
me.'

	`Sorry,' Cho says, then leans in and kisses her again, a soft, gentle
press of lip to lip.
				      *
	`That was really odd,' Harry says, slowing to a walk as she approaches
her Care of Magical Creatures class.

	`Harry!  Yer almost late.'

	`Sorry, Professor!' Harry says, joining the rest of the Gryffindors,
who, she notices, are a different clump than the Slytherins, `I had to talk to
someone, and lost track of time.'

	`Oh, look, it's Harold Potter, the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,
again!' Draco crows, `What happened to weepy-Potter?'

	`It's Angharad, Dreco,' Harry smiles, `And I found out my ghostfriend
is sleeping off an overstrain, rather than gone.'

	`Angharad?' Hermione asks, `That's not really your name, is it?'

	`It wasn't.  My birth certificate says "Harry".'

	`Ghostfriend?  What's that?  Like a girlfriend, but dead?'

	`You're not as dumb as I took you for, Dreco.'

	`That's sick, Potter!' Draco says firmly.

	`Oh?  And I suppose moaning your mother's name while you masturbate
isn't?'

	There's a moment's stunned silence, then Draco turns bright red,
starts stammering denials, and half the Slytherins start laughing, along with
a few of the Gryffindors.

	`I shouldn't have said that, Draco,' Harry says, looking down, then
back up, `But I don't appreciate being picked on.'

	Draco notices her pronounciation finally, swells up with anger, then
turns and stalks off, clenching his fists.

	`What are we studying today?' Harry asks, turning back to the rest of
class, `Bowtruckles still?'
				      *
	Harry is looking pensive, and keeps glancing up at the Slytherin
table, where Draco is glaring back at her.

	`You appologized, so don't worry about it.  If Malfoy wants to be
horrible, let him,' Ron says.

	`But,' Harry says.

	`This is the first time you've been mean back.  Maybe he'll take the
hint,' Hermione says.

	`I know, but,' Harry stares at his hands, `My father,' her hands
clench into fists, `Apparently picked on people.  I don't want to do that.'

	`Then don't,' Ron says reasonably.

	`Right,' Harry says, stands up, and walks over to the Slytherin table.

	`Malfoy,' she starts.

	`Potter.'

	`I apologize for being horrible earlier.  I will try not to let that
happen in the future.'

	`What?' Draco says.

	`I was meaner than I needed to be.  I'm sorry,' she nods at Malfoy and
walks off, leaving him staring, and the rest of the Slytherins whispering
appreciatively.

	`Wow,' George leans over the table after she sits down, `You just
stomped him good.'

	`What do you mean?'

	`Look at him!  He won't be able to live that down for weeks!'

	Harry looks.  Draco has his head turned firmly towards his plate, and
Pansy is smiling at her.  She gives Harry a thumbs up when she notices her
look.

	Harry gives her a strained smile, then turns back to her food, `I
hadn't intended that.'

	`It was a perfectly Slytherin put-down,' Fred says, smiling,
`Delivered in properly Griffindor fashion.'

	`What do you mean?'

	`Stupidly brave,' George says.

	`What do you mean?'

	`Think about it,' Fred says, `Griffindors generally aren't too smart,
or they'd be Ravenclaws, and generally aren't to careful, or they'd be
Slytherins.  That just leaves the dumb, careless, brave ones.'

	`Hermione isn't dumb,' Harry says.

	`And you're generally not careless.  You can overcome those traits,
but it isn't easy, and generally we get by just fine on foolish bravado,'
George smiles, `Don't we, Fred?'

	`Right!'
				      *
	`I never thought of it that way,' Harry says to Hermione and Ron, that
night in the common room, rubbing her scar, which is twinging again.

	`What?' Hermione asks.

	`What Fred and George said, about foolish bravado.'

	`It's true,' Hermione says, `Gryffindors do tend to pull really stupid
stunts, and get away with them.  Think of some of the things we've done,' she
holds out her hand, and starts listing, `There was the Troll, and the mess
with Professor Quirrel first year, then the Basilisk second year, then you
fought off all those Dementors third year.  You survived the Tri-Wizards' Cup,
despite everything.'

	`What are you saying, that I should wise up, and keep out of trouble?'

	`No, that maybe you should prepare more for it, because it isn't going
to go away.'

	Harry looks pensive, then nods, `Right,' she looks at Hermione and
Ron, `How?'

	`Start teaching us Defense,' Hermione is listing on her fingers again,
`Start practicing the combat magics you know more,' this is her index finger,
which she stretches back with her other hand, then shifts to her middle
finger, `Start researching and learning other combat magics,' her ring finger,
`Start learning Muggle combat techniques,' her pinky, `Learn how to fight with
a sword, Harimad-sol.'

	Harry blushes, and Ron looks confused.
				      *
	Harry is walking down a hallway.  After a few meters, he places it as
the one leading to the Department of Mysteries, in the Ministry building.
There's something off to the perspective, and something warm up ahead.  He
turns his head to get a better look -- it's right up against a door, lit with
it's own warmth, he flicks his tongue out, scared human, it turns, and he
recognizes the face-

	Harry jerks awake, clutching her chest.  She flinches, shifts her hand
off her nipple, forces herself from her bed.  She dresses quickly, shakes Ron
awake, `Your dad's in some sort of trouble, at the Ministry of Magic!' she
whispers fiercely.

	`What?'

	`Get dressed!  I'm gonna get Hermione, then we're going to
Dumbledore!'

	`Oh, OK,' Ron says, still groggy, but stands up.

	Harry rushes from the room, down the stairs, then up the stairs to the
fifth-year girls room, and pounds on the door for a moment before trying the
latch.  It opens, and a groggy Parvati stares at her for a moment before
ducking back behind the bed curtains, `Go to sleep, Lavender, we're dreaming.'

	`Oh, that's good,' Lavender says, and soft kissing noises mostly cover
Harry's advance to Hermione's bed.

	Harry shakes Hermione's bare shoulder, blushing a little at the
expanse of pale skin left uncovered by her nightgown.

	`What?' Hermione says.

	`Ahh,' someone gasps from Lavender's bed.

	`Something's happening.  Come on, get dressed!' Harry whispers.

	`Oh, yes, right there,' Harry's fairly sure that's Parvati, and that
is more information than she really needs.  She turns towards Lavenders bed,
draws her wand, and gives it a precise flick.  The rythmic gasps and
high-pitched girlish squeaks vanish.

	`That's really nice,' Hermione says, `I've been too embarrassed to say
anything to them, and they seem to think no one else can hear them.'

	`Parvati just told Lavender they were dreaming.'

	`I wish my dreams were that nice,' Hermione says, then shakes her
head, pulling her shirt on.

	Harry's bemused by the almost off-hand way she notices the lovely
curves of Hermione's bare breasts, then shakes her head and starts from the
room, Hermione wiggling into her second shoe before following.

	`I solemly swear I'm up to No Good!' Harry tells the Marauder's Map,
then taps it with her wand.  She watches it for a moment, then `Let's go!'

	`Right,' Ron says.  Hermione nods next to him, and they file out
through the portrait-hole.
				      *
	`Professor McGonagall,' Harry steps out of the shadows, leaving
Hermione and Ron under the cloak, `Something's happened to Mister Weasley.'

	`What do you mean?' Minerva looks tired, and turns to face Harry.

	`He's at the Ministry, isn't he?  Something's happened to him, I know
it,' Harry says, worried.

	`How?'

	`I saw it, in my dream.'

	`Oh bloody hell,' Minerva says.

	Harry's jaw drops, and two gasps escape the shadows.

	`I thought you were there, let's go see Dumbledore.'

	`He's not in the Castle, or on the grounds.'

	`Drat that man, he should be back by now.  Come on,' she leads the way
to her quarters.

	Minerva waves them to a seat, then has a quick conversation over the
Floo with someone they can't see, then settles into a chair opposite them.

	`Harry, tell me exactly what happened,' Minerva looks concerned.

	`I was going down a corridor, the one leading to the Department of
Mysteries, and I could smell a scared human with my tongue, see his body heat.
Once I got really close, I could tell it was Mister Weasley.  I was going to
watch, for a while.  If he got through the door,' Harry shakes her head, `That
was important, but I don't remember why,' she suddenly stiffens, shaking, `I
was a giant snake!  I could see my shadow, feel Valdemort's,' she shudders,
hard.  Both Hermione and Ron wrap their arms around her.

	`So, that was what was happening.  They're probably after that, too.'

	`What?  What are they after?'

	`You don't need to worry about it,' Minerva says.

	`Yes, I do,' Harry starts, then the fire turns green.

	Minerva quickly rushes over to answer, `Yes, right, good.  Will he be
. . . Good.'  She listens for a long while.

	`Good.  I'll let them know,' The fire dies back to being orange again,
and Minerva turns to the students, `Arthur is fine, a little shaken up, a
little bit snake-chewed, but he'll be fine.'

	`Good,' Ron says, sagging.

	`Did the snake escape?' Harry asks, contradictory feelings of concern
and anger making the question sharp.

	`Yes,' Minerva says.  She looks at the time, then sighs, `Would you
like something to help you settle, once you get to your rooms?'

	Harry shakes her head, `No, thank you.'

	`I'm good,' Hermione says.

	`Please,' Ron says, sheepishly.

	`OK,' she produces two cups of hot cocoa with a wave of her wand,
hands one to Ron, and pours a dollop of something from an ornate bottle on the
mantle into the other.

	Harry sighs, leans over against Hermione, and closes her eyes.

	`Wake up, you two, we need to get back to our rooms,' Ron shakes them
awake.

	Harry blinks her eyes at a smiling Minerva, `How long . . . ?'

	`Maybe fifteen minutes.  Go on,' Minerva helps them to their feet, and
ushers all three out the door, under the cloak.
				      *
	`Hey,' Harry says, blushing just the slightest bit.

	`Hey,' Cho answers, then grabs her shoulder, leans up, and kisses her
on the lips.

	Harry blushes redder than a tomato, and a girl in Slytherin green
whistles.

	Cho steps back with a laugh, grabs Harry's hand, and leads her from
the front hall.

	`What was that for?' Harry asks, when they finally get out of the mob
rushing from the castle.

	`Because I wanted to, and you're very cute when you blush,' Cho says
with a smile.

	`Cuter than,' Harry starts, feeling insecure, and stops herself too
late.

	Cho sobers, clenches Harry's hand tight, `Yes, cuter than Cedric.  I
never could get him to blush,' she says sadly.

	Harry stops, awkwardly pulls the slighter girl into a hug, `I'm sorry
for bringing him up,' she says, a concerned look on her face.

	`That's OK,' Cho says, `It seems to be getting easier, the more I talk
about it, rather than around it.'

	`I'm still sorry,' Harry says.

	`Don't be,' Cho says, pulling free, `Let's go!'
				      *
	`Ice cream soda, two straws,' Cho orders from the girl who stops at
their table, in the corner of Madam Rosemerta's.

	Harry looks up from their joined hands in surprise, `Cho?'

	`That's OK, right?' Cho asks, suddenly concerned.

	Harry blinks, smiles, `I was just surprised.'

	`Good,' Cho draws up their hands, takes Harry's in both of hers, turns
it over, and kisses her palm.

	Harry's eyes widen, taking on a darker green, a delicious little gasp
escaping from between her lips.

	Cho smiles, and licks between Harry's fingers, lipping lightly at the
edge of her palm.

	Harry shudders, moans, sways towards Cho-

	`Careful, dearies,' the barmaid says, `Any further, and we'll have to
chase you out,' she sets their soda on the table, smiles, `And it's always a
shame to lose such cute customers.' 

	`We understand, Mary,' Cho says, twining her fingers back though
Harry's.

	`It's nice to see you smiling again, Cho.'

	`Thank you,' Cho says with a smile.
	
Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Nine
In Which Harry is Confused.

	`So,' Harry looks around her at what the Room of Requirements changed
to, `What is this?'

	The room is large, sunlit, despite it being late at night, with a hard
wooden floor and pale walls.  A rack of swords sits along the back wall.  A
few doors lead out to other rooms.

	`A salle,' Hermione says, `For weapons training.  It's sort of like a
European dojo.'

	`Oh!  OK,' Harry says.

	`First, we're going to cover a bit of safety,' Minerva says, wearing
what Harry quickly recognizes as a fencing costume, `Then you're going to
change into practice gear, and we'll start on the basics.'
				      *
	`Ow,' Cho says, kneeding her forearm.

	`That was pretty hard, for the basics,' Harry says, taking Cho's arm
between her hands, `You were very,' she pauses, `You looked,' she pauses
again, `The saber suited you,' she finally manages, blushing.

	`Thank you,' Cho smiles, catches Harry, wrapping her left hand around
the back of her neck, drawing her close, `Did it make you,' she pauses, says
very softly, `_Want_ me?'

	`Oh,' Harry gasps at her tone, the direct look in the smaller girl's
eyes, `Yes, Always.'

	`Always?' Cho asks.

	`Always.'

	`Good,' Cho draws Harry in for another sweet, gentle, knee-weakening
kiss.  Harry stumbles backwards into the windowseat, the early morning moon
shining in on them.  Cho smiles, drawn along with, climbs into Harry's lap,
pressing her back against the glass.

	Harry's moan sharpens to a squeak when Cho gently cups her breast, the
barest hint of contact hardening her nipple tantalizingly, `Wow,' she
breathes.

	Cho kisses her, licking at her lips until they open, then plunging her
tongue inside.

	Harry's hands wrap around Cho's butt, surprised again by how soft it
feels, and she moans into Cho's mouth, her tongue trying to wrap around Cho's,
her hips jerking spasticly as Cho's gentle touch slides over her breast
through two shirts.

	Cho's other hand slips down, awkwardly starts opening her shirt
buttons, pulling her undershirt up until at last, one slight breast is exposed
to the air, goosebumps flashing across the pale flesh as Cho blows gently on
it, little nipple painfully hard.  She gives it a tiny lick.

	`Cho!' tears its way out of Harry's throat.

	*Click* the sound of a girl's heel on stone almost echos through the
room.  Harry and Cho freeze, Cho's tongue still extended, a tiny thread of
saliva still connecting her to Harry's nipple, then snapping as she jerks her
tongue back, and pulls Harry's shirt down over her breast.

	Harry takes over, buttoning her untucked shirt with shaking fingers,
staring at the red-haired form of Ginny Weasley, who has a little frown on her
face.

	`I know both of you are sexy as all get out, but anyone could walk in
here!  A little light making out in the common room is OK, but this is too
much,' A little smile drifts up Ginny's face, `So, as punishment, I get a
kiss.'

	`What?' Harry asks, confused.

	`You have to kiss me.'

	`Why?'

	`Because I walked in on you, and you didn't even notice!'

	`And that means you get a kiss, why?'

	`Oh just shut up,' Ginny stalks over, puts a firm hand on Cho's
shoulder, leans in, and kisses her on the lips, plunging her tongue deeply
into the older girl's mouth.

	Cho jerks back, eyes wide, and Ginny turns to Harry.  Harry looks left
and right, but Cho's weight has her trapped, and the hand on Cho's shoulder
has turned into a firm arm.  Harry tries to dodge, turning her head to one
side.

	Ginny laughs, `It's not that bad, surely,' catches her chin with her
other hand, and kisses her too.  Harry sits mute, trying to ignore the
pleasant sensation of Ginny's tongue brushing her lips.

	`Go ahead,' Cho laughs, `Stop squirming and maybe she'll go away.'

	`But,' Harry says.  Well, tries to say, anyway, because she found
Ginny's tongue in her mouth the second her lips parted, and it is rather nice.

	Ginny pulls back, lets go of them both, smiles, `Now don't you let me
catch you in the common room again!  I won't let you off with just a kiss,
next time,' she says playfully.

	`That was two kisses,' Harry says, wrapping her hands about Cho's
waist.  Her fingertips touch, and she brushes them along Cho's spine, suddenly
fascinated by how tiny she is.

	`That was one each.'

	Cho leans back, winks at Harry, `So, next time you want us to wrack
your body with orgasms until you can't walk?'

	Ginny blushes, badly, giggles, `Not that extreme, no.'

	`Oh, just a couple, then?' Harry asks.

	`Out!  Out of the common room!  Go hide in Harry's bed or something,'
Ginny declares firmly.

	`I should go,' Cho says instead.

	`I'll see you,' Harry says, tilting her head up and leaning forward.

	Cho smiles, gives her a kiss, then hops off her lap and saunters to
the door, her hips swaying gently.

	Harry hears a matching sigh, and looks up at Ginny, who blushes,
`What?  She has a really sexy walk.'

	`She does,' Harry says, then glances out the window, `I should get to
bed, if I want to be up for breakfast.'

	`So should I,' Ginny smiles, and starts towards the stairs to the
girl's quarters.

	`What are you doing out so late?' Harry asks, smiling.

	`Oh, I had to study with Luna a bit,' Ginny says, smiling over her
shoulder, a slight blush on her cheeks.

	`Study?' Harry smiles back at her, `What were you studying until
half-past one in the morning?'

	`Oh, we weren't studying that long, but it took a while to find--'
Ginny's mouth closes with an almost audible *snap*, and her blush races down
her neck.

	`Oh, that's good,' Harry grins, suddenly, `I'm glad you found what you
were looking for.'

	`So am I,' Ginny says, then runs up the stairs.
				      *
	Harry rolls out of her bed, disgruntled, unable to sleep, twitches of
arousal waking her up every few moments.  She scowls, pulls her robe over her
pyjamas, and wanders off to the boy's bathroom.

	No one is there, so she walks past the urinals, and takes the third
stall from the end, hanging her robe on the hook.  She pauses for a moment,
contemplating, then shoves her bottoms down around her ankles, sits down on
the toilet, and opens the buttons of her top.

	She gathers up a little lube, circling her nipples with light touches,
carefull not to apply too much force to tender breasts.  Who might help.  Hmm.

	Cho takes her left nipple between her lips, smiling up at Harry as she
does, licking it lightly.  Harry moans softly, and bright copper hair obscures
her view, Ginny's tongue stroking the hardened nub of her other nipple, her
hands resting on Cho and the wall, a little moan squeeking from Harry's throat
as her hips jerk.

	A pale hand wraps in Ginny's hair, pulling her back with a little
*pop*, another hand pulling her head around, pale hair obscuring the view as
Luna kisses her, `Mine,' Luna growls, then turns to Harry, `No, you can't
have her, even in your dreams,' leaving one hand wrapped around Ginny, she
places the other on the center of Harry's chest, leans in, and kisses her
hard, nipping at her lips.  She smiles, `No hard feelings, right?'

	`Right,' Harry says, noticing that Cho's hand has slipped between her
legs, exploring her folds with tentative fingers.  

	`Good.  Have fun,' Luna smiles, then drags a giggling Ginny from the
stall.

	`So cute,' Cho says, then licks Harry's nipple again, her fingers
starting a quick, easy stroking of Harry's clit, `But you're so sweet, too,'
she breathes, her breath spreading quick and cool over Harry's breast.  With a
smile, she kisses a little trail of kisses down toward's Harry's -- 

	`Ahh!' a sharp, muffled gasp escapes Harry's lips, and she opens her
eyes, taking in the dark outline of her robe on the door, `That was kinda
nice.  Luna walking in was really rather strange, though,' she tells herself
softly.
				      *  
	Harry opens his eyes, looks out his bed curtains at the window,
groans, and sits up.

	`Harry,' Ron says, `You'd better get up now if you want breakfast.'

	`Fuah,' Harry replies.

	`Right.  Get up.'

	`Moving, I guess,' Harry wanders out of the room, rubbing his scar,
which is twinging badly.

	He walks up to a urinal, stops, walks to a stall, closes the door
behind her and sits down.  She stares at the wall for a moment, before a
slightly panicked expression flashes over her face, and her hand presses
against her belly.  A strange warmth in her belly button surprises her, and she
presses her fingertip against it, then carefully prises the whispy ball of
grey smoke out, holding it between her fingers, `Myrtle?'

	It jerks in her fingers.

	`You can hear me?'

	The ball jerks again.

	`You don't need to stay warm for me,' Myrtle goes cold and
insubstantial, then firm and warm again, `So you want to?  I admit it feels
nicer, but you recover faster cold, don't you?' Myrtle swirls in her fingers,
`One blink for yes, two for no?' Myrtle goes cold, then warm again.

	Harry stares at the little ball, smiling, `Was that yes for blinking,
or yes for you recover faster?'

	Myrtle swirls at her.

	`Bah!  Do you recover faster as, when you are insubstantial?'  Myrtle
blinks, `Then I'd like it if you were,' Harry says, `because I miss you
badly.'

	Myrtle goes insubstantial, slips through her fingers, and rubs
herself, warm, against Harry's cheek.  Harry smiles at the sensation, then
pulls her head back and catches the little grey ball in her mouth, licking her
with gentle, firm strokes of her tongue, enjoying the way Myrtle pushes back,
swirling around her tongue.

	After a long, pleasurable full-body kiss, Myrtle slips out of Harry's
mouth, presses her damp form against Harry's cheek, then slides, warm and
frictionless, down Harry's body, presses herself against her nipple, swirling
around the firm little nub.

	Harry gasps softly, catching Myrtle between her breast and fingers,
then shifting her hand to her other breast, rubbing it gently through her
pyjama top.  Myrtle slides, icy cold, down the center of Harry's belly, then
warm again as she swirls through Harry's pubic hair, then, mmm, pushing firmly
against her clit, rubbing between her labia.  Harry's hips jerk in surprise,
and she moans, softly, `Myrtle!'

	Myrtle swirls around her clit, then goes icy cold, still swirling
firmly, then warm again, and Harry shudders, gasping, her hips rocking into
Myrtle's touch.  She jerks again, pressing her hand against her breast, and
winces, then Myrtle goes cold and insubstantial, slipping through her clit,
and she goes into shuddering spasms.

	Myrtle presses gently against Harry's clit until the aftershocks pass,
then slips up and presses herself lightly against Harry's lips.

	Harry smiles, catches the little warm ball, `Thank you,' she says,
`But that's not the only reason I miss you,' she rubs her cheek against
Myrtle, `I like having you with me all the time.'

	Myrtle goes cold and insubstantial, and sets herself on Harry's brow.
Harry shivers, `You'd like to ride there?'  Myrtle goes warm, then cold again,
staying insubstantial.  `Let me look,' Harry says, `In a moment.'

	She leans close to look in the mirror as she washes her hands,
surprised to notice that her face is changing shape, just a little, around the
points of her jaw.  Myrtle's whispy grey form is set in her brow, about a
knuckle's length above the bridge of her nose.  Harry smiles, liking the look,
and wanders back to her room to find her glasses.
				      *
	`Harry?' Hermione asks carefully, `What's that on your face?'

	`Myrtle,' Harry answers with a grin and a happy half-laugh.

	`Why?' Ron asks, reaching out to touch, then stopping, hand half-way
there.

	`She wouldn't mind, I don't think,' Harry says, `Would you?'  Myrtle
goes warm, then cold, `Go ahead.'

	Ron looks a little lost, but finishes the move, brushing his finger's
through Myrtle's much-reduced insubstantial form.  He shivers, snatching his
fingers back, `Cold!'

	`A little bit,' Harry laughs.

	Hermione reaches out, more cautiously, and just barely touches the
outer whisps, `Strange,' she says.

	`What?' Harry asks, and Ron looks interested.

	`She's not as cold as other ghosts,' Hermione says.

	`Myrtle?' Harry asks, reaching up.

	Myrtle slips into her fingers, following Harry's hand to the center of
the table.  Hermione leans over, and slips her fingertip into her, `No, she's
definately warmer,' Hermione draws back her hand, `About ten degrees.  Still
pretty cold, but not as cold as she should be.'

	`Wow,' Ron says, `How do you know?'

	`I practiced for a while, so I could measure temperatures, first year,
since my thermometer wouldn't work.  Then I bought one in Diagon Alley, but it
doesn't read right unless we're in the potions classroom.'

	`What does that mean?' Harry asks.

	`I don't know,' Hermione answers, then settles back, and picks up her
cup.

	Myrtle slides up the length of Harry's arm, raising goosebumps the
entire way, then rubs up under her chin, causing a shiver, before settling
back on Harry's brow.

	Ginny sets a hand on Harry's shoulder, turns her half-way, then leans
in and plants a quick kiss on his brow, and Myrtle.  She shivers as she pulls
away.

	Sharp clicking footsteps sound through the Great Hall as Ginny smirks
at Harry, then Luna Lovegood wraps her fingers through the girl's hair, leans
in, and plants a quick kiss in the same spot as Ginny, `She's mine,' Luna says
softly, `And I told you last night, you can't have her.'

	`How about if we share?' Ginny asks, eyes sparkling with amusement,
almost laughing.

	Luna shakes her head, `Nope, too many girls in that bed already,' and
walks off just slowly enough that Ginny could follow without getting her hair
pulled.

	`Have fun,' Ginny calls, waving back over her shoulder.
	
Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Ten
In Which Harry Kisses a Teacher.

	Cho grabs Harry's hand, pulling her up from her seat, and looks up at
the taller girl, `Shall we go?'

	`Sure,' she turns to Hermione and Ron, keeping Cho's hand, `I'll see
you later?'

	`Have fun,' Hermione says.

	`Bye, Harry,' Ron says, then turns to Hermione, asking almost softly
enough, `Why is Harry suddenly so popular with . . . ' Ron's voice trails off
as the doors close behind them.

	`That is a question,' Cho asks, `I mean, Ginny was interested last
year, and they say you've been sweet on me for years, but why does it seem
that every girl in the school likes you now?'

	`Myrtle said that some of it is just having a girlfriend, being more
confident,' Harry shrugs, `Some of it's probably pheremones.'

	`Pheremones?  What are those?'

	`Part of how you smell, that people use to determine who's attractive.
Men and women have different pheremones, so.'

	`Girls who are attracted to girls now think you smell good, but half
the school still thinks you're a boy, so you're safer.'

	`Why do they bother,' Harry starts, then shakes her head, `You'd think
it wouldn't matter by now.'

	`It's only been a few hundred years, give it time,' Cho says, and
wraps her arm around Harry's waist.

	`How much time are we talking?  Six, seven hundred more years?' Harry
asks.
				      *
	Mary sets the dish down with a smile for each of them, then walks
away.

	`Open,' Cho says.

	Harry unfocuses from her eyes, `What?' she smiles.

	`Harry Potter,' Cho says, smiling, `Are you paying any attention to
me?'

	`A little much, it would seem,' Harry follows the curve of Cho's
shoulder, down her arm, up the elegant curve of her thumb, and spots the
spoon, which glistens with formerly frozen strawberries and slowly-melting
white chocolate ice cream.  `Ahh,' she says.

	Cho watches intently, a happy smile in her eyes, as Harry wraps her
lips around the spoon, slurping half the ice cream off as she draws her head
back, disheveled black hair framing a face slightly softer than it hand been
at the beginning of the year, green eyes half-lidded behind her glasses,
obviously enjoying the treat.  The smile touches her lips when Harry ducks her
head back to the spoon, and captures most of what is left.

	Cho laughs, and licks the spoon, feeling Harry's eyes on her.
				      *
	Harry glares at Hermione, `We're doing what, where?'

	`Organizing the Defence class at the Hog's Head.  You were supposed to
be there half an hour ago, and we had to come looking for you,' Hermione is
quite annoyed.

	`Myrtle, did you hear about this?  I don't remember it,' Harry asks.

	Cho shakes her head, and Myrtle goes warm, then cold, then warm, and
back to cold again.

	`I told Ron to,' Hermione groans, `The bloody git,' she mutters,
sighs, `Come along, we've got about twenty-five applicants, including Pansy
Parkinson, of all people.'

	`Nice,' Harry nods, `She seems to have separated from Draco since
second year,' she turns to Cho, `Will you come with us?'

	`Of course,' Cho looks at their mostly empty dish of ice cream, and
scrapes a bite for herself, then one for Harry.

	Hermione blushes, then leads them away a few minutes later.

	The Hog's Head is as dirty as Rosemerta's is clean, complete with
windows so encrusted with grime the room is lit by candles, which add even
more smoke to the noxious air.  Harry is perversely tempted to try a scourgify
on the windows just to see what would happen, and if any of the customers
would run screaming from the sunlight.

	Cho looks at his sudden smile, `The crowd?'

	`Scourgify the windows, see the customers run?' Harry says, then tries
to count the mass in front of her.  It shifts a lot, but she's pretty sure
there's more than twenty.

	`OK,' Hermione greets the restless mob, `Umbridge is a scared old,'
her lips twist, and most everyone laughs, `Who would be shocked and appalled
if we were to learn any defensive spells this year.  I feel that surviving the
next few years is more important than Umbridge's hurt feelings.  Does anyone
here disagree?'

	Several people shake their heads.

	`So, we,' she glances at Harry, `It was kind of my idea, but we all
got on board, think we should form an extra-curricular Defense club, to
practice the spells we'd need if we want to pass our OWLs or survive an
encounter with a death eater.'

	`Why would we be facing death eaters?' Someone, a boy by the voice,
calls.

	`Because they like to rape and kill people?' Luna Lovegood asks,
distractedly playing with her radish earrings, `And the best victim is one who
can't fight back?' she trails her dreamy eyes over the other students as the
knuckles of her left hand trail over her hip and her right hand smooths her
skirt against her thigh.

	Hermione looks shocked, but rallies, `So, it's better to actually
practice and learn the spells, rather than the theory and why we shouldn't use
them.  Harry's agreed to facilitate--'

	`What's that mean?' a tall blonde boy asks.

	`Lead, direct, instruct,' Cho says, `Keep interrupting punks from
derailing the meeting,' she smiles up at him.

	`Oh,' he says.

	`So I thought I'd have him say a few words, and get everyone to sign
in,' Hermione stops, shakes her head, `Sorry, her, it's only been a couple
weeks.'

	Half of the group stares, and several variations on `What are you
saying?' are heard.

	Harry steps up, `My name is Angharad Potter,' she smiles at the name,
`Most of you know me by Harry, and that's fine.  I was raised by Muggles,'
a titter flows around the room, `So I hadn't realized that one could
spontaneously flop genders, and it threw me for a loop.  Anyone who tries to
take advantage will be,' she pauses, looks over the room, `Unhappy.  Do you
understand?'

	There is mass nodding.

	`Good.  Some people seem to think I'm good at Defense.  I know I'm
damned lucky, but since I can't teach that, I will teach you how to defend
yourselves, if you want to learn.'

	`Is it true,' a girl with a long braid asks, `That you can produce a
Patronus?'

	A few people mutter things like `yeah.'

	`I can.'

	`A corporeal Patronus?'

	`You know Madame Bones?'

	`My aunt, I'm Susan Bones, she told me at your hearing,' 

	Harry tries to forget most of that organizational meeting even as it
happens, but the man in the corner in drag is quite amusing.

	Once Hermione's cajoled everyone into signing in, Harry asks her, `It
is a better deterant if they know what they just signed.'

	`What we just signed?' an auburn-haired girl asks, `What did we just
sign?'

	`Harry!' Hermione sounds almost scandalized, but pleased at the same
time, `Just a minor binding spell, agreeing not to speak about our orgi--' she
stops herself, `club, upon pain of unspecified torment.'

	`Oh,' Marietta, that was her name, nods, `Speak, or inform?'

	`Inform, actually,' Hermione nods.

	`Don't let Snape or Dumbledore read your minds,' Luna says, `Avoid eye
contact when you've been thinking about the club,' she smiles, `Or work on
Occluamancy,' she looks Marietta in they eyes, `No, I don't think Umbridge
can, so I shouldn't worry too much.'

	Marietta gasps, blinking and looking down.

	`You really should tell her,' Luna says, `I don't quite see the
attraction myself, but.'

	Marietta stares at her in shock, and Luna smiles dreamily back.
				      *
	`Myrtle?' Cho asks, stopping and turning Harry to face her, a few
dozen meters from the gate back into Hogwarts.

	The little grey ball flits over closer to the shorter girl, pausing in
the air between them, and inquisitive air to her movements.

	`You don't mind, do you?'

	Myrtle bounces a little questioning look at her.  Harry smiles.

	`Sharing Harry, that is?' Cho asks.

	Myrtle presses herself, warm and solid, to Cho's cheek, then settles,
cold and insubstantial, on Harry's brow again.

	`That would be "no, she doesn't mind", I'd think,' Harry says.

	`I think so too,' Cho pulls Harry's head down, leaning up to kiss her
brow, and Myrtle, `Thank you.'
				      *
	Harry glances at the door, then gives it a firm pounding, `Professor?'
she calls after a moment.

	`Oh, Potter, come in,' Severus says, and waves her in.

	Harry looks around the room, which is as dark and dreary and severe as
he'd always thought it would be.  She's a little surprised, `You like to live
like this?'

	`Not really,' Severus says, `But it doesn't seem worth the bother to
do anything about it,' he shrugs a little, `You seem to be doing pretty well,'
he tries to change the subject.

	`I am,' Harry smiles, `Myrtle's more mobile than she was.' 

	`And Cho Chang kissing you in public doesn't have anything to do with
it?'

	`That's nice, too,' Harry admits.

	Myrtle floats over to one wall, drifting along the spines of the
books.

	Harry blinks, `She's been in here, right?'

	`No, I've spelled it, to keep the ghosts out unless I've invited them.
Peeves was horrible when I changed, so I learned that one relatively quickly,'
he looks sad, then crotchety at having openned up so far.

	`What were you like, before?  You were involved with my mother?' Harry
asks awkwardly, looking around the room.  There are books shelved along one
wall, a group picture on a desk, a single chair, and the bed Severus was
standing next too.  A door leads probably to a closet, and that is it.  The
walls are a dingy grey, like they might have been white, or black, before
they'd been washed so much, with dark wood around them.

	`I loved her dearly,' says Severus.

	`Do you have any pictures?' Harry asks, `I don't.'

	Severus closes his eyes a moment, then spins and walks to the
bookshelf, pulling down a thick volume.  He sits down on the bed, takes it in
his lap, and opens it, `Sit,' he says curtly, waving at the bed beside him.

	Harry sits, and Severus opens the book, `I was a cute little girl,' he
says sadly, about the first page, and turns to the next.

	Harry turns back to the first page.  The smiling little girl in the
pictures does look a lot like the man sitting next to her, with similar
features and that same thick, dark hair.  She smiles as a little Sammy chases
a small lizard in one of the pictures, `You were.'

	`I got to school,' Severus says, and turns the page again, `And I met
Lily.'

	Harry's face goes intent at the almost familiar young red-haired girl
in most of the pictures, either by herself or with Sammy.  She sits still in
one, for just a moment, then she's up and running, waving a little desicated
crocodile.  In another, she and Sammy are holding hands, and Sammy's leaned
over against her, a lovely smile on the smaller girl's face.  The largest one
is the two of them, holding a single wand, concentration on their faces, a
single rose spinning in front of them.

	After a moment Severus turns the page again, `Second year, I was
beginning to realize I was in love with her.'

	A single glance at the pictures, and Harry can see it on Sammy's face,
in the way she keeps glancing at Lily, in the way Lily's hand rests against
Sammy's neck.  One picture catches her attention, `My father?' she asks.

	Severus nods, smiling bitterly, `I whupped his ass, that day,' he
touches Lily's picture gently, and she turns to look at him, the smile not
dropping from her face, then turns back towards where Sammy has James Potter
stupefied, a foot on his chest as she laughs at him, making faces.

	Severus turns the page.  More people are in the pictures this time,
`Third year cameras got cheaper, and I had more pocket money, so I could
afford more pictures.'

	One whole page is a photo of a smiling Sammy, leaning over an equally
happy Lily, a slightly younger-looking Minerva McGonagall on the other side of
a table, a little homuculus with a rough-edged student-project look walking
around the table between them.

	`Third year Magic-fair project.  We took first place, and there was
talk of entering us in the continental fair, but nothing came of it,' Severus
shakes his head sadly, `I'd so wanted to go, too.  Three weeks almost alone
with Lily?'

	`She would have enjoyed it, too, I'm sure,' Harry says, `What happened
to that?'

	Severus gives her a quizical look.

	`Magic-fair.  We had science-fairs we had to submit projects for, in
muggle school, but this is the first time I've heard of something similar in
the Wizarding World.'

	`They stopped having them, about when,' Severus gulps, turns away,
`Lily,' he manages, then falls silent again, his shoulders hitching.

	`Shh,' Harry says, and wraps her arms around his shoulders, hugging
him close.

	Severus doesn't watch, keeping his head turned away as Harry pages
through the book.  Harry is struck by the obvious love between the two young
girls, and the incandescent happyness on Sammy's face at the end of her fourth
year, and the beginning of her fifth.

	The pictures stop, in the middle of the page, with Sammy and Lily
clowning for the camera, pausing occasionally to kiss each other.  There are
only three more pictures in the book, Lily's rather sad graduation picture,
Severus's absolutely miserable one, and one clipped from a newspaper, of a
smiling James and Lily, at their wedding.  The only other thing is a clipping
from the Prophet, which Harry recognizes, and doesn't want to read.

	She closes her eyes, breathing deeply, then leans over and kisses
Severus on the temple, `She wouldn't want this, didn't want this,' she says
firmly.

	`What?  This?' Severus gestures at his body.

	`No, she would want you to be happy,' Harry tells him firmly.

	`I know that, but I don't know how, anymore,' he says, his face still
wet with tears, `I should have let her, she told me it didn't matter to her,
but it mattered so much to _me_,' he almost laughs, more tears dripping, `I
couldn't let her get close, because I knew I was ugly and disgusting,' he
shakes his head, dashes tears from his eyes, `And then she took up with
Potter, and I wouldn't try, wouldn't let myself hope.  She came to me,' he
laughs again, a hollow, bitter sound, `When Potter proposed, she came to me,
and told me, and there was something in her eyes that scared me.  I ran,' his
knuckles go white on his knees, then he continues, `And I've been looking back
ever since.'

	Harry looks at the picture from her parents wedding, and can't help
but think Lily doesn't look as happy as she did with Sammy.

	`She's dead, and it's my fault,' Severus says, `If I'd been just a
little less full of myself, less wrapped up in my own misery,' he shakes his
head, closes the book, and stands to put it back on the shelf, `She'd be alive
today.'

	Harry glances at her hands, curled again in her lap, `Or maybe you'd
both be dead,' she starts, `And I'd be having this discussion with James
Potter.'

	Severus turns towards her, gapes, then breaks out laughing, a sort of
histeric mirth.  `No, you wouldn't be having this one with Potter,' Severus
manages after a while, `You'd be plotting how best to turn Umbridge's dress
into rice-paper during class.'

	Harry smiles, and stands, and looks Severus up and down, `Wash your
hair, and comb it,' she walks around him, `I absotively suck at clothes, but
yours are atrocious,' she shrugs, `Maybe we could get Ron, no,' she pauses,
`Maybe the twins,' she shrugs, `I guess we could just go shopping, and try on
everything until we find something less awful.  Ick.'

	`Invite Cho, she'd enjoy getting to dress you up, too,' Severus says,
`You'd look lovely in green,' he smiles, then opens the closet, pulls a dusty
mirror from the back corner, and sets it on the desk, dusting it off
carefully.

	He notices Harry's quizical look, `Lily gave it to me,' he says, `So I
couldn't bear to part with it, but I don't like looking at myself if I can
avoid it.'

	Harry examines it a little, `It's a muggle mirror!'

	`Yes.  My old one was very old and rather vicious, so Lily got me this
one when I was twelve, for Christmas.'

	Harry looks at the mirror, then at Severus.

	Severus points to the chair, `Sit!'

	Harry does, turning to watch as Severus pulls a medium-sized trunk
from the bottom of the closet, and opens it.  It reeks of vermin-repelling
potions, and Harry catches a glimpse of bright fabric before he closes it
again.

	Severus holds out a satin-finished stainless steel comb, `She got this
for me as a joke, saying nothing else could cope with my hair,' he blinks,
`Haven't used it since I changed.  It kept making me cry.'

	`Why do-' Harry starts.

	`That rat's nest on your head doesn't suit you,' Severus says, `And
you've let it get long enough that something can be done about it,' and he
starts combing her hair gently, starting at the bottom, just below her ears.

	Harry opens her mouth to protest, but Severus shushes her, `Just
watch, and let me work.'

	Harry finally nods, and turns towards the mirror.  She's surprised at
how much longer her hair seems, and the way it's smoothing out, no longer
sticking out in all directions on its own initiative.  Severus finishes after
a moment, and her fingers reach up to touch the smooth, tapering mass of hair,
resisting the urge to shove both hands into it and shake it so it doesn't
frame her face so, she pauses, `It looks nice,' she says, `I always comb it
out, then ruffle it.  Keeps me from having to do anything to it.'

	`You look a lot like your mother, and she looked lovely no matter how
she wore her hair,' he presses the comb into Harry's hand, `Keep this a while,
and experiment.'

	`I couldn't,' Harry starts, holding the comb back out again.

	`Please,' Severus says, folding Harry's fingers over it.

	`OK.'

	`I'll see you next week?' Severus says, stepping back.

	`OK,' Harry stands, and starts towards the door.  Myrtle pulls herself
out of a book, gives Severus a press on the cheek, then settles back against
Harry.

	Harry turns at the door, `I'll see you in class.'

	`I won't go easy on you,' Severus says.

	`That would really freak everyone out,' Harry says, smiling, and
closes the door behind herself.
				      * 
	`That,' Harry says softly to Myrtle, `Was really weird.'

	Myrtle wiggles inquisitively.

	`I mean, it was really sad, and kinda stupid, too, and he knows it,'
she shakes her head, `But she was such a pretty girl, and he's not that ugly.
She was _so_ stuck on my mother, though, I don't know if she even noticed
anyone else, notices anyone else.'

	Myrtle manages something that feels like an uncertian shrug.

	`Yeah, I know.  How would we find Snape a girlfriend?  Or a boyfriend,
for all the interest I've seen him show in either.'

	`Very carefully,' a soft feminine voice says behind her.

	`Ginny!' Harry says, spinning around.

	`Why are you thinking matchmaking thoughts about Professor Snape?'
Luna asks, her hand tucked in Ginny's back pocket.

	Ginny's hand, Harry notes, is around Luna's waist.

	`Three can keep a secret,' Harry says, `if two of them are dead,'
Harry shrugs, `So I really don't think I should say.'

	`Samantha Snape, called Sammy, and Lily Evans,' Luna says, `star
crossed, if anyone ever was.'

	`Snape was a prat,' Harry says, `And it bit him really hard.'

	`That's not all of is, is it?' Ginny asks.

	`No, it isn't,' Luna says, `So that is why you're thinking matchmaking
thoughts?'

	`He's just so sad, and guilty, and she was so pretty.'

	`I'd be quite distressed by that sort of change,' Luna nods, `And I'm
not nearly so pretty.'

	`What am I missing here?' Ginny asks.
				      *
	`So, will you come with us?' Harry asks.

	`Of course,' Cho answers, `You've got to wear some of what I buy you,
though.'

	`Sure,' Harry says, smiling.

	Cho kisses her.

	Myrtle brushes a frigid line along Cho's cheek.  Cho catches the clue,
and gives her a little kiss as well, a light pursing of the lips against the
ghost's immaterial form, a tiny flick of her tongue.  Harry joins the kiss,
and Myrtle firms, warms, pressing eagerly back with all of her reduced form.
				      *

Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Eleven:
In Which S.M.A.C. Is Founded.

	Harry stares at the sign proclaiming Educational Decree Number
Twenty-Four, and smiles, `So, someone overheard, and reported us,' she shakes
her head, and walks off to find Hermione.

	`So I wasn't dreaming, a few nights ago?' Lavender says softly, her
arms folded across her chest, `You did come walking in here?'

	`Yes.  That's odd?' Harry asks.

	`Boys can't get up the stairs,' Lavender tells him, `Good silencing
charm, it's still holding.'

	`Myrtle and I got yelled at a couple times so I got good at it,' Harry
blushes.

	`Myrtle,' Lavender smiles, suddenly, `And you, in your bed, and the
boys only complained about the noise?'

	`Pretty much,' Harry shrugs.

	`I think Hermione likes to listen,' Lavender's voice turns teasing,
`She only chases us out of my bed when she has a test the next day.'

	Harry blushes like a tomato.

	`Is she here?'

	`Nope.'

	Harry leaves, and hopes she's stopped blushing by the time they find
Hermione.
				      *

	`So,' Harry tells Severus later that week, `McGonagall's gotten
approval for the Fencing Club and the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but I was
wondering if I could get you to be the advisor for my club?' she pauses,
`Well, it was Hermione's idea, and Myrtle really talked me into it, but,' she
shrugs, `I'm to be the facilitator.'

	`Oh, and what is this club for?'

	`Studying the things Umbridge is supposed to be teaching us.  You
wanted that job, right?' Harry bats her eyelashes at the man.

	He stares, then breaks down laughing, `She'll kill us both,' he
smiles, `I think I see why Lily liked Gryffindors, you don't work around the
rules, but ride over them roughshod.'

	`So you'll do it?'

	`What's the name of this club?'

	`The Hogwarts School Militia.'

	He stares at her, `That just won't do,' he rubs his chin a bit, `That
anime with the little witch girls,' he thinks a moment, `The one all the
muggleborn are always gaga over,' He strikes a pose, right hand over left
forearm, thumb, index finger, and pinky pointed somewhat towards Harry, only
thumb and index finger pointed on his left hand.

	`Sailor Moon?'

	`That's it!  The Sailor Moon Appreciation Club.'

	Harry stares at him, then breaks out laughing, `If she'll go for it.'
				      *
	Snape passes her the certificate the next morning.

	`What is that?'

	`Our permission form,' Harry holds it up to her over the breakfast
table, and Cho moves over to join them, `We're now the Sailor Moon
Appreciation Club.'

	`S.M.A.C.?' Cho smiles, `I like it.'

	`She approved this?  Who's our advisor . . . Snape?' Hermione looks up
at her like she's mad.

	`He's always wanted to teach this,' Harry says, `And I can't belive
they approved it either,' she pauses, then starts quoting, `"Never be ashamed
of your scars, or what you survived."'

	Hermione joins her for the next line, `"Never harm others merely for
the Greater Good."'

	Harry looks to Hermione for the next line, then grumbles, `Don't hurt
yourself too much, but dont' let others get hurt if you can help it, but those
aren't the right words,' she shakes her head, `"An it harm none, thy will be
done."' she finishes, the last four words perfectly harmonized with Hermione.

	Mabel Lister, on the other side of the Great Hall, claps loudly.  The
purebloods and halfbloods are mostly looking confused.

	Pansy Parkinson gives them a thumbs up, then "accidentally" knocks
Draco Malfoy's face into his plate, and clumsily hits him back in a couple
times before she gets him off the table, and drops him on the floor, `Oh, I'm
sorry, I've just been so clumsy lately, let me help you up,' she smiles, takes
his hand, and kicks him in the balls when she steps in close to brace herself
before she pulls him up and drops him on her knee.

	Crabbe throws him easily into a firemans's carry and hauls him off to
the infirmary, whining all the while.  Crabbe bounces him a little, and Malfoy
finally gets the hint and tries to moan more quietly.

	Harry looks to Severus, and there's a hint of smile to his thin lips.

	All day Harry is mobbed by people who want to join S.M.A.C.  She
chases several off by telling them about the jinxed sign-in sheet, but several
are willing to join anyway, and are willing to bring their copies of the
anime, most of which Harry hasn't actually seen.

	Hermione joins her at lunch, brandishes the sign-in jinx, now with
"SMAC" at the top and "Severus Snape" at the bottom, `Well, that takes care of
that.'

	`We've got two dozen more who want to join SMAC, rather than the
club,' Harry tells her.

	`Oh,' She is surprised, but then nods, `I suppose so.  I guess we sign
them in, and if they don't want to come back they can't really talk about it.'

	`Are we ready for a meeting?  Practice is canceled today.'

	`I think so,' Hermione nods, `Yes.  Have them come sign in with me,
and I'll tell them where.  When?'

	`Twenty hundred,' Harry says, feeling that if they're a Sailor Moon
club, they should do it right.

	`Tell Snape,' Hermione orders.
				      *			      
	Parkinson stalks into the room, looks about the room, and notes the
screen on one wall, `We've got a projector?' she asks.

	`I don't have any clue,' Harry waves at the five boys and three girls
playing with equipment by the screen.

	About 2005 Fred, who was put to counting, calls out `That's the last
of us!'

	`Good!' Harry calls back, climbs up on a conviniently sturdy table,
`We,' he waves at Severus and Hermione, `Have some of you here under,' she
pauses, `Possibly misleading circumstances.  The Sailor Moon anime isn't the
main focus of our club.  We formed this club before twenty-four came out, but
our advisor, Professor Severus Snape,' she gestures at him.

	He sneers at the students.

	Harry kicks him in the shoulder, `Behave.'

	Severus looks up at her in shock, then smiles, and several students
fault elaborately.

	`Decided,' Harry turns back to the others, `That the Hogwarts School
Militia would not be approved as a club.'

	Several people laugh.

	`So we're SMAC,' she smiles, `I'm Angharad Potter, and I'm the Queen.
If any of you want the job, you can challenge me for it,' Several people
laugh, `My consorts are Myrtle,' she darts free, and touches everyone, a
bitter cold nip at everyone's cheek, `She likes kissing people, sorry, you
have to put up with her, and Cho Chang,' Cho waves, `Hermione Granger is
Secretary, and she gets to choose weapons if you challenge _her_ for her job.'

	Most everyone laughs at that.

	`OK, we are here mostly to keep doing the right thing from hurting too
much.  Not being ashamed of your scars should not mean leaving yourself open
to new ones, should it?'

	`Never!'

	`Right, so, unless we have too many people crying about it, we'll
spend the first two hours on Defence Against,' she frowns, `I think we'll
limit it to attackers, murderers, thieves, and rapists, since Dark Arts has
completely lost whatever little meaning it's had recently, what with the whole
Dementor thing and we hardly need to defend against sex-changing-potions, do
we?'

	There is a general nodding.

	`So, the last hour will be spent at the discretion of the programming
committe, which will consist of whichever Militia Members have recordings.
Any complaints?'

	`I wanna watch the TXD movie!'  Several people yell `Yeah!'

	`ProCom!  Do we have the TXD movie?'

	After several minutes a young girl calls, `In my room!'

	`Next time, we'll start at nineteen, if you can bring it.'

	`I will!'

	`Any other complaints?' after a few moments Harry nods, `Then we'll
proceed.  We'll start by going over the basics, starting with the Disarming
Charm, Expelliarmus.'

	`Oh, *please*,' the tall blonde boy, Zach Smith, Harry now remembers,
whines, `I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against--'

	`Voldemort?' Harry asks, ignoring the gasps of the crowd, `It saved my
life in June,' she cocks her head a little, `But if you don't want to study
with us, you can leave.'

	No one does so.  `At this point,' Harry says, `I'd suggest splitting
into pairs and practicing.  Everyone has learned this charm, right?'

	Everyone splits up, and Harry ends up with Neville.

	Severus stalks around, his thin-lipped smile and clean, neatly
combed-back hair somehow more intimidating for most of the students than his
traditonal greasy-haired scowl.

	"Expelliarmus!" Harry orders, clenching her teeth.  Neville's wand
flies off, landing on top of a bookshelf.  She smiles, and retrieves it, the
"Accio wand!" a lot easier, more practiced.

	Neville stares at her like she's Snape reincarnated.

	She fights the urge to yell "boo."

	She looks around at the others, wands are flying, hair is standing on
end, and lots of people just can't seem to get it right.  Snape's actually
correcting some of them, and they do better once he walks off, unlike his
normal manner in Potions.  Pansy Parkinson is working with Luna Lovegood, and
Cho is working with Marietta, who's doing very poorly.

	Luna seems to sacrifice accuracy in favor of speed, as do Pansy and
many of the muggleborn.

	`Expelliarmus!' Neville yells behind her, and her wand goes flying.

	`Good job,' Harry tells him, and reaches for her wand, concentrating.
It wiggles, and Harry smiles, thinking of the way the magic flows, the
connection between her wand and herself, the wand in her hand, summoning the
wand.  It jumps to her hand, and several people stop in place.

	`OK, stop a moment!' Harry yells, then climbs up on a table, `I said,
STOP!'

	The group goes quiet, `OK, first, it doesn't matter how quick or
strong you are if you can't hit your target!  Marietta, pair up with Michael
Corner, I'll work with you a bit.  Neville,' she smirks at Severus, `Snape
will play with you until you get better.'

	Severus grins back at her, and she can hear Neville whimper.

	It takes most of the second hour to get Marietta and Michael to
something like competent.  Harry spends a lot of that time dropping her wand
and calling it back to her hand.

	At precisely 2200 the ProCom starts the first episode of Sailor Moon
R, and everyone is sitting down to watch before Rei falls back asleep, cuddled
to Usagi's bare chest, Mamoru's arm wrapped around them both.

	`Mamo-chan!' someone gushes.
				      *
	After the showing, Harry lets go of Cho, stretches as Cho drops to the
floor from the table they were sitting on, and Harry turns to the crowd, `Now,
what can we take away from that?'

	`If they aren't using deadly force, try to talk to them first?'

	`Right.  The tree-people could have been a major threat, but after
talking to them, Usagi could just give them what they wanted, so they didn't
need to hurt anyone or steal anything.  And?'

	`Adequate force at the right place and time is better than
overwhelming force outside the room and out of place?' Mabel says, nearly
invisible in the still darkened room, `Chibi-Usa got into range for the
buttstroke before she shot the droid, and it probably took her two movments,'
she points an imaginary shotgun, `*BLAM*,' then twists and strikes with the
butt of it, `*Thump*, to take care of both of them.  She knew the Militia
would be outside, and she knew the Black Moon Family operated single-person
units, so she didn't have to worry about any enemies coming in behind her, so
she could be merciful.'

	`And what would she have done if she hadn't known that?'

	`Since she didn't know if Beruche-chan was faking, and she, while a
lot stronger than a normal girl her size, is pretty tiny, probably
kick-checked her, then zip-tied her, and either used a 'port-lock to keep her
there for interrogation or shot her when she tried to 'port out,' Mabel
pauses, `Called for backup from the Militia, since she knew they were
operating in Tokyo by then.'

	`If Beruche's allies arrived before she had Beruche secured?' Luna
asks, her voice not nearly so soft and breathy as normal.

	`Shoot them, and her if they tried to recover her,' Mabel sighs, `But
that would be sad, since Beruche-chan's pretty.'

	Someone laughs.

	`It would be sad even if Beruche-chan isn't pretty,' Harry says, `Once
their down and secured, they're prisoners, and you protect them.  If they're
just down, only waste time hurting them if they're a threat.  Elsewhere in the
series we see several times where rate of fire comes heavily into play -- the
ability to lay down a hail of lead or spells is often decisive, if employed
right, whether to kill your enemies or just distract them long enough for
something heavy enough to kill them to be brought to bear,' she looks over the
other club members, `The typical wizarding, and for that matter, muggle method
for doing that is using lots of people.  We don't have that option, most of
the time, when we're in a dark alley with six death eaters trying to kill us,
so we need skill to counter that, at least long enough that we can escape.'

	Hermione answers that with a quote, `"They only have to kill you
once, but you have to stop them all."'

	Harry looks around at the grim faces, `But, next meeting, the ProCom's
going to be showing the TXD movie, which I've never seen, so look forward to
that.'

	The meeting ends on that happy note.
				      *
	Filch grins as he appears before Harry, who's leading the way to the
Hufflepuff rooms in the basement, all fifty members of S.M.A.C. behind her,
`Out a little late, Potter?' he asks.

	`S.M.A.C.'s meeting ended at eleven,' Snape says, smiling, `I'm
walking the members of my club back to their dorms.'

	Filch look much like he's swallowed a whole bottle of umeboshi.
				      *
	The next week drags on, the successful laying of S.M.A.C. putting a
bit of spring in Harry's step, and both Myrtle and Cho respond positively to
that.

	Harry is shocked when Cho accosts her after Potions on Friday, pinning
her to the wall even as the Slytherins walk by, and snogging her, gently at
first, a light brush of soft, closed lips against her own, which part almost
of their own accord.

	She meets Cho's tongue with her own, then pulls back a little, looks
down into her brown eyes, and smiles happily, `Hello.'

	`Hello,' Cho smiles back, and Myrtle darts out to trace gently along
her cheek.  Since she doesn't flinch, Harry assumes Myrtle's reflecting.

	Myrtle slips down Cho's top, and Cho leans back up, catching Harry's
lips even as her thigh slips between the taller girl's.  Harry shivers at the
feel of Cho's nipples against her chest, Myrtle's gentle exploration almost
ticklish as she's pressed between them.  She breaks the kiss, groans, as Cho
pulls herself up with her arms, pressing her thigh firmly.

	Harry's hands slip down to hold her up, cupping around Cho's soft
bottom, and she moans into Cho's hair.

	`OK,' Pansy Parkinson says from the other side of the hall, `At this
point I, as a prefect, have to tell that, however much I may enjoy the girly
show you two are putting on, you need to continue it out of sight of your
fellow students,' she shoves off the wall with a twitch of her shoulders,
walks over to look into Harry's startled eyes, `If you want me to come with
and provide an audience, I can do that,' she smiles hopefully at the two.

	`Not today,' Cho manages after a while.

	Pansy sighs, `Let me know when,' her eyes drift down the others, then
back up again, `That might be pretty, three naked black-haired girls,' she
shakes her head, turns to walk away.

	Cho grabs Pansy's hand before she gets two steps, `Here, do me a
favor?  I think Harry's too skinny, and needs to eat more,' and presses
Pansy's hand to Harry's buttock.

	Harry squeaks.

	Pansy gives it a good feeling over, and squeezes it gently, `Not too
bad, but I've not actually felt a pretty girl's ass in so long I can't make a
good comparison.'

	Harry blinks at the word choice, but smiles down at Cho, `We do have
two other pretty girls to compare to.'

	Cho looks up at her strangely, but doesn't squeek when Pansy gives her
a good squeeze and grope with her left hand.

	`Definately not as soft,' Pansy says, `But quite a fine ass anyway.
She's been a girl for what, a month?  Let her fatten up on her own,' she gives
each of them another squeeze, then steps back, `Thank you,' she smiles, `But
get a room.'

	Once Pansy has made her exit Cho looks up at Harry, `What was that?'

	`It didn't seem fair that she only got to feel my flat arse,' Harry
smiles, `And she seemed so happy about it, too.'

	`She did, didn't she?'
				      *
	Myrtle wakes Harry up when she gets back that night.
				      *
	Luna's gotten strange, and Ginny worries about her, `She's not so,'
Ginny makes a cupping and kneading gesture with her hands.

	Ron blushes.

	Ginny hits him with a straight punch to the solar plexus that leaves
him gasping, `Not like that, perv.  She's too steady, too quiet.  It's like
she's got something on her mind all the time, and it isn't me.'

	`Snorkacks?' Hermione snarks.

	`Not those either, thinking about them makes her happy and bouncy
and,' Ginny smiles, her ears shading pink.

	Ron blushes again, holds out warding hands.

	`But this,' Ginny hugs herself, `I'm worried, she's so moody and
intense, and she's always fingering her necklace like it chases off evil
spirits.'

	`Maybe it does,' Harry says, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze.

	Pansy, on the other side of the Great Hall, has another attack of
clumsy, managing to accidently knee Millicent in the crotch so hard that the
poor girl doubles over and whimpers on the floor while Pansy manages to drop a
whole benchful of Hufflepuffs on her head.

	The Hufflepuffs are laughing, not meanly, as they help Millicent up.

	Millicent rails on them, and hits one girl so hard she starts to cry.

	`Millicent Bulstrode!' Severus calls out sharply, `It is not
appropriate to hit a girl for trying to help you up.  Appologize to the girl.'

	Millicent turns on the girl, `I'm sorry,' she says, placing much
gentler hands on the girl, `I wasn't angry with you, but I don't deal well
with getting hit by a bench.  May I?' she doesn't really ask as she leans
forward and presses her lips to the girl's cheek, where she struck her,
`There, all better.'

	The dark haired girl is staring up at Millicent, quite unsure how to
respond.

	`Good,' Severus smiles, `Now I want a twelve-inch essay on why it is
you feel this need to hit people whenever things don't go your way.  By
Friday.  One point from Slytherin.'

	Fred and George start whining about Snape's favoritism, so Harry
speaks up, `Which would you prefer, to lose ten house points, or to write a
foot-long essay for Snape?'

	Several people look at Harry, then start to smile, `That's so devious,
and Slytherin.  I like it,' Fred says after a bit, `But we're still down ten
points.'

	`Then we'll have to do something about that.'
				      *
	Luna is intense, moody, and almost, but not quite, violent.  She
starts at small noises, but reaches for her hip rather than the wand behind
her ear.  She clings to Ginny whenever the girl is near, but is always
watching, her eyes, hard, focused eyes with very little of their normal dreamy
cheer, scan the room as she does.  Draco dares to meet her gaze over the table
one morning, and whatever he sees makes him flinch.

	Ginny's edgy and moody because Luna's edgy and moody.  She mostly
takes it out on Ron, beating on him whenever he gives her an excuse.

	Ron makes a joke about reporting her for child abuse, and Ginny slugs
him, a perfect right cross to the chin that knocks him cold without leaving
much of a bruise, and he never remembers what he said, but has to hear it from
Harry.

	`She's your sister, you should know what will set her off,' Harry
says, `And it was something about reporting her as a child abuser.'

	`Oh.'
				      *
	Neville manages to disarm Hermione, and dances around in a little
circle for nearly a full minute.

	Severus leans over Harry, resting a hand on the table she's propped
against, `His wand really doesn't suit him.'

	Harry looks up at him, `Really?' she asks, then, "accio wand!" summons
the offending object with a flick of the wrist.  She chooses a safe direction,
`Lumos!' she says, and watches the ceiling turn purple.  She uses her own wand
to turn it back to white, then tries again with Neville's wand, tracing the
movements carefully in the air several times before, `Lumos!' the light
sputters to life, then dies, then turns green.

	`Let me,' Severus takes the wand, and `Lumos,' manages a pale pink
light.

	Cho tries next, and gets an abnormally bright white.  She smiles,
cancels it, and tries a Disarming charm, which tosses three wands rather
generally in front of her flying.  Her grin is blinding, `Wow,' she mutters.

	At that success the second hour of the meeting disolves into a chaotic
mess as people pass wands around to try each other's out.  The ceiling turns a
splotchy rainbow of colors, and starts leaking small stones and bits of
plaster, but no one is severely hurt, although Ron did lose half of his
clothing somehow.  Everyone ends up with a wand they're happy with, and
Neville, despite the loss of his father's wand to Cho, is nearly floating with
happyness, his newly acquired wand, he's not sure who's, making things that
were terribly hard easy and easy things almost effortless.
				      *
	The TXD movie, set in the early 2230s on a Baptist Council colony
world, Helios.  Ranma came with the advanced party for a diplomatic mission,
with Buffy, Faith, and Sailor Discordia following a week later.

	Something doesn't feel right, and she passes that on in code to the
ambassador a moment before his ship, with the others on board, goes into FTL,
incommunicado until it arrives in system.  At that point the BC goons reveal
that mission is a trap, organized to kill a Sailor by blowing up the
Ambassador's corvette when it comes out of FTL.  The battleship escort is
regarded as irrelevant, since the Dark Kingdom doesn't believe in collective
punishment, and there are thirty thousand civilians on Helios.

	That convieniently ignores two facts that Ranma tells the audience as
she saves most of her team and gets them out into the population: The Dark
Kingdom doesn't lose Sailors, and with the population of a small town spread
over the surface of the planet strategic precision guided munitions can be
employed fairly selectively.

	That won't help the five to ten thousand who will probably die, or
her, so she proceeds to destroy the planetary government, Army, and Navy, in
that order, greeting the Ambassador from the bridge of the only surviving
Helian Navy ship as the end credits start, `This is Ranma Summers, commander,
Helios Preporaty Team, the system is secure.  Sorry 'bout this.'
				      *
	`OK,' Harry stands in front of the screen, `What's the message here?'

	`Violence of action!'

	`If you've got a diaolical plot, kill the people who can stop it
quickly.  VX gas would have accounted for most of 'em.'

	`Your buddies are your life, without your buddies to watch you, you
are going to die, horribly, much sooner than you want to,' Pansy says.

	`All of you are right, but I've got one to add, your weaknesses and
your strengths are often the same thing.'

	Nearly an hour is spent discussing meaning and things like `But it was
soo cool when Ranma ran up on that minister's limo, put an anti-armor round
into the window, then an airburst grenade into the passenger compartment, and
the driver didn't even notice for two blocks!'

	Filch grumbles when he sees them, on their way to the Slytherin
dungeon to drop Pansy off first this time.

Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Twelve:
In Which Harry Gets In a Fight.

	A few days later Ginny's suddenly happy again, lavishing affection and
teasing on Luna, who seems a little less grim as well.

	Ron confronts her over lunch, and Ginny says, `I offered her something
I thought was valuable, but she said she didn't want it,' she shakes her head,
`She finally explained it a little better, that it's something rather like
cake, where you can have it or eat it, but not both, and she just wanted me to
hold on to it for her.'

	Ron, it seems, is still clueless, because only Hermione and Harry
blush at Ginny's explicatory hand gestures.
				      *
	After a tiny bit of CenCom discussion, Hermione's original thought of
using fake Galleon coins is modified, and they eventually manage a Tuit,
accurate down to weight and pattern, crescent moon on one side and full moon
on the other, "Misericordia Est Pro Validus" wrapped around one side of the
full moon, "Dark Kingdom," "One Tuit" and "3165" around the edges of the
crescent, and a space on the other side of the full moon for messages.  A
quick numerical code is worked out, which, to the uninformed, looks something
like the serial number that should be there.

	Hermione gives them out between class and showing, `This is your
S.M.A.C. membership coin.  You'll notice that they all have the same serial
number, that's because that is actually a code block.  Generally it will be
used for the P.O.E.E. date of our next meeting, followed by a three digit hex
number representing who changed it last.  You only get to set the message, not
the sender, that's automatic.  A Protean Charm makes sure they're all in
sync.'

	`Professor Snape, did you do the Protean Charm?'

	`No, that was Granger's work,' Severus smiles, `I just mentioned that
letting Gred and Feorge pretend to be Harry could be a bad idea.'

	`We worked up a list of codes, so that messages can be passed fairly
securely, but we must insist that you memorize them, as well as the numbers of
the people you wish to talk to.  When passing messages, the first four digits
are the message, the next three are the recipient, and the last three will be
the sender.  3172 means Danger, 3173 and 3174 are reserved for meetings, and
will be followed by month and day.  Today is the 29th of Aftermath, which, you
will note, is encoded as 3173-529-251.'

	`Why's Harry 251?'

	`Because 000 is too conspicuous,' Harry says, `The list of codes you
can write down, and up to five for your friends, but they can't be on the same
sheet of parchment, nor carried in the same pocket.  If you can memorize the
codes, do it, you can't lose what you aren't carrying,' Harry sweeps the crowd
with her eyes.

	She is caught a moment by Luna's dreamy eyes, "The things that float
on the surface of your mind, Angharad.  Ginny will be jealous.  Oh, I know
that, but she thinks you are very sexy, and I think she is right, at least as
a girl.  Careful, you'll make me blush," Luna smiles, looking down.

	Harry shakes her head, and looks to Ginny, who smiles and clutches
Luna's hand tighter.

	Harry sits down to one side as the ProCom starts the showing, rubs her
fingers though the utter cold of Myrtle's diminished form.  After a few
seconds Myrtle firms, accepting the caress.  Cho sits next to her, hugs her
tight, and tucks her head under Harry's chin, turning to watch with one eye.
				      *
	Filch catches them on their way down from Ravenclaw tower, scowls, and
keeps walking.
				      *
	Cho gives Harry a kiss as they walk down to the Quidditch pitch for
practice.  Her house team isn't playing until next month, but they have pitch
reserved for the day, so Harry is here to watch.  She adores the way Cho's
hair flows behind her in the wind, the way it chases after her when she turns,
and wonders how her own hair would look if it were that long.  It might be
pretty, the two of them, Cho just short enough that the curve of Harry's hip
would nestle in Cho's waist as they walked together.  Harry gives up on that
after a moments smiling.  Pretty, perhaps, but impractical, Cho's not that
short, or Harry's not that tall, depending.
				      *  
	Ron's panicking over breakfast, cracking under the Slytherin's ire.

	Pansy Parkinson calls out, `Remember, Warrington's gonna knock you off
your broom!'

	`How much did he bet you, Pansy?'

	`I've got him for three to one!' she cackles, `If he can't manage it
at that kind of odds, I deserve his money!'

	Harry laughs, `You do!'

	Draco gives Pansy a dirty look, and she drops her plate of kippered
herring on his clean green and silver robes, `Oh no, Draco, I'm so sorry,' and
she grabs a wand, Draco's wand, and tries a cleaning spell.

	Draco screams like a little girl caught in a bear trap, looking at the
bear, `You blew them off!'

	Ron laughs so hard he falls off the bench.

	Crabbe looks, `No, those are just the kippers, everything's still
attached.'

	Harry starts laughing at that point.

	Luna's remarkable hat, like a life-sized lion's head, complete with
roar, gets her a long kiss, with tongue, from Ginny.  Ron, somehow, manages
not to see it.

	Draco is hustled off for a less holey set of robes, and Pansy follows
the Gryffindor team down towards the pitch.
				      *
	The Slytherins are singing, and Harry's smiling, `Wave to your fans,
Ron, it'll piss 'em off!' she yells.

	Ron waves gingerly as Alicia passes the quaffle, and Harry darts off,
the Slytherins singing more loudly as Warrington gets the quaffle, so Harry
tries something . . . different as Warrington arrows towards the Gryffindor
hoops, and dives like a Wrongski feint, if she times it just right, diving
across Warrington's path . . . she feels a brush on the twig-end of her broom,
and continues her dive, Draco coming up beside her, she dives a little faster,
her dive too flat for a proper Wrongski, pulls up and to the left, feeling
another tug at her twigs, and pulls up as Draco augers in, tumbling across the
grass for several meters as Harry pulls up.

	`The Refs have spoken!  The Slytherins are down for two fouls against
Potter!  The medic team is on the way to Malfoy, who's getting up, looks a
little bloody after trying to knock Potter out of the sky with his face!
Angelina scores, time hasn't stopped, Malfoy's back in play.  Ten to zero,
Gryffindor's favor.  Alicia lines up for the penalty shot, it's good!
Angelina takes the second, and Bletchly blocks!  Slytherin has possesion,' Lee
continues enthusiasticly.

	Harry does an outside barrel roll, just because, and darts towards
Malfoy, who flinches, then back out again, still looking for the Snitch.

	Ron is hamming it up for the Slytherins, noticing how they sing louder
when he waves.

	Pucey darts up a moment later, and Ron manages an utterly
irreproduceable save, swatting the quaffle away with the twigs of his broom,
which starts behaving, more, erraticly.

	The Slytherins sing loudly as Pucey manages a frantic catch, then
takes a bludger, and Katie darts off.

	Harry turns back to her own job, spotting, suddenly, the Snitch
fluttering by the Slytherin goals.  She dives towards Malfoy, Warrington comes
barrelling up even as Malfoy turns, and with three feet to spare spins,
looking towards the Snitch, which is still ambling towards the Slytherin
goalpost as Warrington fouls her broom again.

	The Snitch picks up speed, heading towards the stands, and Harry dives
for it, Malfoy hanging back a moment, then following, but not fast enough,
still meters back as Harry sieves up the snitch in her left hand.

	A surge of crowd noise makes her look up into something blurry, brown,
and *WHAM*

	The bludger took her right off her broom, and she barely hits
feet-first, and she executes an inelegant, untrained, perfect Parachute
Landing Fall, feet together, legs straight, bend at the knees, go over
sideways, take the blow on the butt, and she flops out on her back, snitch
clenched firmly in her upraised fist.  She decides to lay there for a moment
until it stops hurting so much.

	`Are you all right?' Angelina asks.

	`Been better,' she answers.

	A loud roar makes her look towards the stands, where Luna's hat
continues to roar, despite her face being obscured by long orange hair.  Cho's
got her hands clenched under her chin, but relaxes when Harry manages to raise
a hand to wave.

	`Crabbe whacked that bludger at you as soon as you turned,' Angelina
complains, `But we won, Harry, we won!'

	Harry finally takes her hand and lets her pull her to her feet.

	Draco lands behind them, and dismounts, bloody but spiteful, `Saved
Weasley's neck, haven't you?' he says to Harry, `I've never seen a worse
Keeper . . . but then he was Born In A Bin . . . Did you like my lyrics,
Potter?'

	Harry smiles at him, `Nearly as much as you seem to like the taste of
my broom, you need to stop running into it.'

	Malfoy grimaces, `Wanted a couple more verses, needed something to
rhyme with fat and ugly, wanted to sing about his mother, see--'

	`Now what would you know about that?' Harry asks, `I thought you were
hankering after Umbridge, since your mommy's not arround.'

	Malfoy blinks, shakes his head, continues, `couldn't fit in Useless
Loser, for his father, you know--'

	`Are you sure you're not thinking about Lucius?  The one who makes
house-elves iron their hands?'

	Fred and George watch, barely restrained by the fact that Harry's not,
quite, losing this battle of words.

	`You like the Weasleys, don't you Potter?' Malfoy continues, `Spend
holidays there and everything, don't you?  Can't see how you stand the stink,
but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley's hovel
smells OK--'

	`Oh, you can put up with a lot to avoid spending time with people who
hate you,' Harry says, `But you don't have anyone who doesn't hate you, so you
wouldn't know, would you?' she smiles, `Does your mother know about your
little fantasies, or is there another reason she's always so eager to see you
back on the train to Hogwarts?'

	Malfoy's eyes narrow, `Or perhaps,' he sneers, `You can remember what
your mother's house stank like, Potter, and the Weasleys pigsty reminds you--'

	`You seem very fixated on smell, Dreco, is there something the matter
with your nose?' Harry smiles, `And very sure about places you've never been.
What, Delores not putting out for your father's money?'

	Malfoy whips out a wand, and tries to cast a Stupify, without noticing
that he has somehow ended up with Pansy's wand.  The brilliant blue curse
streaks off at an angle and blows one of the goalposts down.

	Harry laughs as Madame Hootch descends on Malfoy, `Now you've done it,
Dreco.   Attempted assault and vandalism of school property?'
				      *
	It is, it seems, remarkably easy to get a girl up the stairs into the
boy's dorms.  Harry tries something she really should have mastered earlier,
and puts a one-way Silencing Charm on the curtains.  It takes her three tries,
and Cho's looking at her with half amusement, half concern, and half approval
for her paranoia.

	`There, now we can hear what's happening in the room, and they can't
hear what we get up to,' Harry smiles, flopping back onto her covers, once
both of them are convinced that it's working properly.

	`So, are you going to spell them so you can see out, too?' Cho asks,
half joking.

	Harry looks at her, nods, `That would be a good idea,' she pouts, `I
trust them, mostly, but they're boys, and I was a boy, and they're not . . . '
she trails off and makes awkward rolling gestures with her hands, `I don't
trust them that far yet.  Well, Ron, but the others?' she frowns, `I'd like
to, but.'

	`Well, is this secure enough for some snogging?' Cho asks, sliding
forward over Harry's still-clad form.

	`Quite,' Harry smiles up at her, `A little groping, too, I think.'

	`Oh, who's getting groped?'

	`Well, if you don't want to paw my minuscule tits, you don't have to,'
Harry pouts.

	`Well, it's not much fun to grope you through three layers of wool,
one of cotton, and,' Cho rubs Harry's chest, `You still aren't wearing a bra.'

	`Two of cotton, and I know boys with bigger tits, so it doesn't seem
important yet.'

	`Maybe not, but if you don't wear a bra I can't take it off of you.'

	`If I don't wear a bra you don't have to take it off me,' Harry
counters. 
				      *
	Harry smiles at the half-naked, half asleep girl flopped on her own
bare torso, `Do we want to try sneaking you back to Ravenclaw tower?'

	Cho looks up from the slightly curved shape of her hand, cupping Harry's
breast, `Do you want to?  I don't.  I like it here,' she shifts, carefull not
to press too hard, and kisses Myrtle, who's back on Harry's brow, `Myrtle
likes me here, too.'

	Myrtle blinks warm once, `She does,' Harry says, `But will Goldstein
or Patil get on you about it?'

	`Since they saw us walk off together, I don't think so,' Cho kisses
her again.

	Harry kisses her back enthusiasticly.
				      *
	Harry looks at the sheet announcing Decree number twenty-five, and
frowns, `So Snape said ban him for three games, and she said only one?  I
guess he's better in the sack than I _ever_ would have guessed.'

Genderfuck poor Harry, though . . .
Chapter Thirteen:
In Which Many Things Change.

	Umbridge glares at Draco in class, and every time she sees him in the
hallway.  She glares at Harry, too, but that is nothing new.

	She's frowning outside the Great Hall Tuesday morning before lunch, so
Harry takes her Gryffindor courage in both hands and walks right up to her,
`Professor,' she says, gathering the shorter woman into a hug, `You shouldn't
frown so much, it makes you look like a toad,' and kisses her on the cheek
before continuing on.

	Umbridge doesn't even show up for lunch.
				      *
	S.M.A.C. is interesting, covering the beginnings of spell chaining,
and Snape actually smiles.  Neville looks like he's going to faint, but
doesn't.

	They show another four eps of Sailor Moon R.

	`Should we try that, too?' someone asks after the showing, `The group
running around thing.'

	Harry looks around the room, `I don't want to, but I'm willing to
anyway.  Anyone not willing?'

	A couple people shake their heads, `OK, then, three times a week for
now, starting at five on Friday?'

	A few groans answer, but no one says no.

	`You're horrible, you know,' Harry tells them.

	`What are we going to do to the ones who don't show up?' Hermione
asks, `Because unless it's worse than running around before dawn in the frost
I won't be there.'

	Harry looks at her, and she nods.  `Anyone who doesn't show up has to
kiss Umbridge, and face whatever consequences she dreams up.'

	A general shudder marks that as adequate for moment.
				      *	
	The morning of their first run is dark and clear as Harry watches
people arrive, George, this time, tasked with keeping track of the arrivals.

	Once everyone has arrived she smiles at the crowd, `So, we're here for
PT.  Some kind person has found me this,' she holds up a copy
of _FM 21-20: Physical Training_, and smiles at Luna, `So if you want to read
it later you can.'

	The cluster that follows is very funny for anyone watching.  Since
that is just a single Acromantula, who would much prefer to be someplace warm
rather than on guard duty, the full effect is lost.
				      *
	Ginny and Luna vanish after class Friday afternoon, and neither they
nor Parkinson show up for dinner that night.

	The next morning, Harry looks up when Ginny sweeps into the room.

	Ron grumbles when Luna walks in, totally catching Ginny's attention.

	Harry just wonders if she's right about why Ginny's suddenly
fascinated with pink.
	
	` . . . Gowzer the Destroyer and bring about the end of the world as
you know it,' Ginny tells her brother with a straight face.

	Harry catches the Ghostbusters reference, not the first half of the
conversation, but breaks out laughing anyway.

	She and Hermione confuse her brothers a moment longer, then Harry's
attention follows Ginny's to where Pansy is stalking in the door.

	Harry blinks, and almost misses the tiny twitch of her lips and blush
she shares with Ginny.  Anger is sharpening her movements, and a certain
arrogant confidence has her shoulders back and her head high, well, as high as
it will get.

	Harry smiles, and wonders what they're up to.  Her smile widens when
Pansy assaults Millicent.
				      *
	The Fencing Club meeting is crashed by Pansy, Luna, and Ginny, who
seem even more happily entangled than they did in the Great Hall at breakfast.
Harry agrees to bring them things to Vanish, and they disappear until
breakfast the next morning.
				      *
	Sneaking Harry into Cho's bed proves much more difficult.  It is not
what Harry expects, a lack of trust, but that Ravenclaw love of knowledge.
Before they even reach the entrance to Ravenclaw tower, they have an
entourage.

	Once in the Ravenclaw common room, the questions start, `So you're
really a girl?' one little first year asks.

	Harry smiles at the androgenous little creature, `Yep.'

	`Lucky,' the boy whines, `I hope I turn back into a girl.'

	Harry blinks as several boys nod agreement.

	`Probably too late for me,' says one, ruffling his dark hair, `But it
would be nice.'

	Harry just blinks, `Why?'

	A couple boys and girls nod.

	`Girls are stronger, magically, and faster, and tougher.  That's all
averages, of course, but,' the dark-haired boy sighs, `The Ministry has tried
to stamp out the old ways for years, even before You-Know-Who started making a
fuss, but they refuse to die out completely because . . . '

	What follows is at once frustrating, because Harry's intent was to
come up, hide in Cho's bed, and snog, and fascinating, because she is sure
she's never heard most of this . . . `Wait,' she says, suddenly, `Queen
Elizabeth the first, the one they named Virginia after, had a witch for a
consort?'

	`And three little girls by her,' Cho nods.

	`And the goblins captured her, Ruth, Elizabeth's witch consort, to
hold hostage at the end of the third goblin revolt?'

	`Yes, and Ruth's adoption of Hardgrip, called Mary, ended the revolt
and led to the fourth Goblin Protection Act, and the first one with any teeth
aimed at humans.  Before that murdering or raping a goblin was about
equivalent to murdering or raping a serf, unless the lord of their area
complained, nothing happened.  The fourth act enabled them to complain to the
King for redress on their own account.'

	`I'm guessing it didn't help all that much, because their were three
more revolts between then and now.'

	`Actually, it calmed things down for almost a hundred years.'

	`And why doesn't Binns teach us this?'

	`Because he, all of the teachers, have to stick to the approved
course.  If a student brings it up, he can talk about it.  You should see when
he's got a student who's willing to fight with him, it's wonderful,' Cho
smiles, `But most of this has been hidden for so long that no one remembers
it, and so many of the old books were burned.'

	Harry stares, `They burned history books?' she's not sure why, but it
feels like someone has slugged her in the gut, `And they try to make this,'
she waves her hand towards Hogsmeade, `Dark age horror,' she pauses, hearing
her words, then nods, `Seem like it's worth keeping?'

	Cho nods, and cuddles close, `Just because he's an evil, murdering,
paranoid bastard doesn't mean the other side's automatically good.'

	`Just probably less evil,' Harry squeezes Cho tightly to her,
`Probably,' she blinks, noticing the moisture trailing down her face, and
buries her face in Cho's hair as trickling tears turn into outright sobs.

	She looks up at a touch, to find that one of the Ravenclaw first years
has cuddled up against them.  She reaches out, and pets the little boy's hair
gently.

	The discussion drags on long enough that they fall asleep where
they're sitting, Harry's back against the couch, Cho mosty in her lap.

	In the morning Harry wakes to find that somehow one of the firsties
has gotten between her back and the couch.  She counts seven little heads
cuddled up to her and Cho, and smiles.
				      *
	They run into Delores dithering outside the Great Hall, `Good Morning,
Professor,' Harry greets her, giving her another hug.

	Cho gives her a hug, too.

	`What are you doing?' Delores asks.

	`I woke up with all the Ravenclaw firsties cuddled up around me, so
I've got hugs to share,' Harry nods, sure of her logic.

	Cho looks at her funny, but steps close for another hug anyway.

	Harry rests her head on Cho's shoulder, and smiles at Delores, `If you
don't want me to, tell me, and I'll stop.'

	Delores shakes her head, `No, it's OK,' she blinks suddenly shiny
eyes, then turns and waddles into the Great Hall.

	`What was that about?' Hermione asks, dropping a hand on Harry's
shoulder.

	`I haven't the foggiest,' Harry presses a quick kiss to Cho's neck,
then slides from behind her to take her hand as they follow Delores.
				      *
	After breakfast they bring the snails, and meet up with Luna, Pansy,
and Ginny.
	
				      *
	Harry watches Umbridge as she eats breakfast the next day.  A faint
smile drifts onto Harry's face, she's much prettier when she smi--

	Sudden fear tightens her belly, and she looks down at the table,
it would be, she looks up, really scary, actually.


---
log:
3169/Aftermath/55:	A week long field problem, in December in Korea,
			coupled with some long term idle fancies
			(Harry/Myrtle, mainly) and a bit of conversation with
			a friend about a lemon-fic they're working on, led to
			this springing into my head, with several scenes
			well-developed.
3169/Aftermath/56:	Written, to the header for Ch. 5 ^_^
3169/Aftermath/60:	Started Ch. 5.
3169/Aftermath/64:	Little bit more, some dialog taken from _OotP_.
3169/Aftermath/66:	Tiny edit
3170/Chaos/25:		Tiny edits.
3170/St. Tib's Day:	Tense changes, little bit more of Ch. 5.  
3170/Chaos/60:		Added a little more, finished Ch. 5.
3170/Chaos/70:		Started Ch. 6, first two scenes
3170/Bureaucracy/11:	Continued, started Ch. 7
3170/Bureaucracy/12:	Continued, finished Ch. 7 (which is very long, for
			this story), and Ch. 8 ^_^
3170/Bureaucracy/17:	Continued Ch. 9., started Ch. 10
3170/Bureaucracy/29:	Continued Ch. 10
3170/Aftermath/24:	Tiny edits
3171/Aftermath/16:	Bah!  It's been a year since I touched this one.  Gah.
3173/Confusion/40:	Tso, I re-read bits of OotP and realized Hagrid wasn't
			back yet . . . and continued.  Ch. 11, and the
			beginning of Ch. 12
3173/Confusion/41:	Ch. 12, and a bit of Ch. 13
3173/Confusion/43:	Moved some bits of Ch. 11-13 around, more of same.
3173/Confusion/44:	more of Ch. 13
3173/Confusion/45:	Spotty Myrtle ^_^
3173/Confusion/47:	More Ch. 13, and added a bit to the Cho/Harry scene
			Start of Ch. 14
3174/			Realized a while back that Rescue should be it's own
			spinnoff, rather than the main branch, so I finally did
			some chopping.  No more compressed training time in
			gfh.