I don't own the characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling.
Inspired by "HP: A Girl's Life" by nicky14 on DeviantArt
Note: These chapters will update as I go over for grammar and continuity checks.
"Femina Mutatio!" shouted Draco, sending a bright burst of magic from his wand towards Harry. The spell impacted, the curse sending Harry backwards, tripping over his own feet.
Before either Hermione or Ron could retaliate, the door to the Defense classroom opened, and Professor Snape looked out, "What are you doing laying about Potter? Ten points from Gryffindor!"
The assembled Slytherin and Gryffindor sixth years filed into the classroom, the seemingly ineffectual curse forgotten.
"What do you think Malfoy did to you?" asked Ron in the back of the classroom, quietly so as to not invite Professor Snape's ire.
"Not sure, it didn't even hurt, just kind of tingled is all," replied Harry, dividing his attention between his friends and the Professor.
"I'll have to look it up after classes, but until then, we need to pay attention," scolded Hermione.
Draco looked over his shoulder at Potter, and seethed. The curse didn't seem to have any effect, aside from knocking Potter on his arse and losing the Lions a handful of points. He'd intended for Potter to hallucinate everyone as witches, perhaps causing the halfblood to talk of it to the Professor and get into even more trouble. That nothing had seemed to happen nagged Draco, but with the pressures from the Dark Lord, he had better things to worry about than failed cruses, for the torture curse was all too real.
"So we don't know what spell he used?" asked Harry, looking across the tome covered table to his friends. In addition to Hermione and Ron, Neville, Luna, and Ginny had joined him in the search for references to the spell.
"I found something close," said Hermione, reaching over to a tome covered in darkened leather. She opened the yellowed parchment pages to one she'd marked with a sheet of fresh parchment covered in notes. "The first word was the same, but the second is vastly different."
"What was it?" asked Harry.
"Femina Illusio," replied Hermione, "literally an illusion of women."
"Well, I didn't see any more women than normal, and I'm pretty sure you all aren't seeing me as one," replied Harry. He then put on a mock serious look, "You are seeing me as a guy, right?"
"Of course Harry," said Luna. "Though I don't think it was an illusion."
"Exactly," said Hermione. "Mutatio would imply a change, alteration, or exchange."
"So I'm going to turn into a girl?" asked Harry.
"I doubt it," said Hermione. "The effects would have been immediate if that was the case. Since you're still a guy, I'm pretty sure the spell was just mis-cast."
"But why would Malfoy want to turn you into a girl?" asked Ron. "I mean, it's not like he fancies you or anything, right?"
Harry shrugged, "Ever since we met on the Express that first time, or rather, the second time, he's disliked me."
"Second time?" asked Ginny. "I'd heard about the Express, but you'd never said you'd met him before."
"Well, it was in Diagon Alley, on my eleventh birthday. Hagrid had taken me to get my things, away from the Dursleys, and we met at Madam Malkins. He was his normal pureblood bigot self, and then when he insulted Ron on the Express, and your family, well … he was my first friend, so it's not like I'd have become Draco's friend after that."
"Enough about the past," demanded Hermione, "Since it's not likely that Draco's spell actually did anything, we'd better finish up our homework."
Ron groaned, but the rest of the teens around the table just sighed, knowing that Hermione's passion for knowledge had helped all of their grades, and her pushing Harry to form the DA the previous year had likely saved their lives in the Department of Mysteries.
Harry woke up the next morning with a horrible pain in his chest, though considering he'd slept leaning over the table, the Half-Blood Prince's potion's book spread before him, he had rather expected his back to be in pain, rather than his front. It was when he tried to rub his chest to ease the pain that he was snapped into full alertness. Instead of the expected, his hand had encountered something soft, and then brushed something a bit harder, sending a shock through his system. He stood, pushing the chair back with his legs as he did, and noticed that more had changed overnight than he'd first expected, as a lock of curly auburn hair fell into his blurry vision.
Harry quickly groped around, looking for his glasses before he realized that he was already wearing them. Carefully he reached up, and his daintier than expected hand removed the now unneeded glasses, and for the first time in his life, he could see perfectly clearly. As he looked down, first to his glasses, and then beyond, he noticed that, as he had feared, much had changed overnight, and with a quick grope to his loose fitting pants he realized that he, or rather she, would have to get used to using a different pronoun.
With a mumbled, "Bugger," Harry Potter, formerly the Boy-Who-Lived, but now the Girl-Who-Lived, fainted.
Hermione slipped down the stairs, mind still racing with possibilities. While she'd convinced Harry and the others that Draco had botched his spell, she feared that, without knowing more about the actual spell itself, only how it was cast, that it might have a delayed reaction. While she was still mad at Harry for cheating at potions with the second-hand book Professor Slughorn had given him, she still worried about her first and best friend. It was only when she was halfway across the common room before she noticed the stack of books on the table.
She paused, and then went over, her natural inquisitiveness getting the best of her. She then noticed just whose books they were, Harry's, for she would recognize the Half-Blood Prince's writing in the margins of the textbook anywhere. It was then that she noticed the body fallen on the other side of the table. She quickly jogged over before she stopped. She didn't recognize the girl unconscious on the floor of the common room.
The first oddity was that the auburn-haired girl was wearing the wrong uniform. Not that she was wearing the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, the yellow and sable of Hufflepuff, or the green and silver of Slythering, no, she was wearing a boy's uniform, and one that didn't exactly fit her either. As she cautiously stepped around the table she felt something beneath her foot, and as she pulled it back, noticed a pair of glasses. With a shock, she realized that they were Harry's glasses, and with a gasp her worst fears of the previous night were laid bare.
"Harry?" asked Hermione, cautiously walked around the unconscious, and feminized, body of her first and best friend.
With a groan the girl, or rather young woman, rolled over, and Hermione gasped, as she saw the scar that had made Harry so famous on the girl's forehead. As the emerald green eyes, the same shade as Harry's, opened, and then focused on Hermione's face, the girl spoke, "Hermione, I had the weirdest nightmare."
"Harry?" asked Hermione.
"Yes?" asked the young woman.
"Oh Harry," said Hermione, falling to her knees.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" asked the young woman. She rolled over, and then looked down at herself. "Ah, bugger."
"Language!" scolded Hermione.
The young woman, Harry, looked up at one of his first and, until a few weeks ago when they'd had a falling out over a textbook, most faithful friend, "Hermione, I think we've got a problem."
"You could say that again," said Hermione, looking into the beautiful face of her formerly male friend. "I think Draco's spell did more than we thought."
Harry looked down, his new breasts tenting his shirt, "You could say that again."
"Okay, run this by me again," demanded Ginny, looking from Hermione to the supposedly feminized Harry beside her. The three of them were standing in the fifth year girl's dorm, which housed only Ginny, as her cohort was born during the last and worst year of Voldemort's first reign of terror.
"Malfoy's curse," explained 'Harry', "It turned me into a girl."
"Woman," corrected Hermione. "You're a woman now Harry."
"She sure doesn't look like a Harry," said Ginny. "But between the scar, the eyes, and the way she's carrying herself, I'm pretty sure she used to be him."
"And I still am, at least, I think so," said Harry.
"Ginny's got a point, we can't call you Harry anymore," said Hermione.
"Harriet?" asked Ginny. She then shook her head, "No, that's not good."
"Hannah?" asked Hermione.
"Isn't there already a girl with that name in our year?" asked Harry.
"Right, well, what about Jamie?" asked Ginny.
"Jamie?" asked Hermione.
"It's the feminine form of James, my middle name," said Harry.
"Well, in that case, wouldn't Lily make more sense?" asked Ginny.
"My mum's name?" asked Harry.
Hermione nodded, "You're right, as much as Harry used to look like his dad, she now seems to be the spitting image of her mother."
" 'Her'?" asked Harry.
"You're a girl, or rather woman," said Ginny. "It's not like you look like a 'he' or a 'him'."
Harry slumped onto Ginny's bed behind her, sighing as she did so.
"As much as I want to be glad I finally got Harry Potter into my bed," joked Ginny. "I think we need to talk to McGonagall about this."
"Really?" asked Harry.
"And before we do that, we're going to need to get you out of those clothes," said Hermione.
"What?" asked Harry, shocked.
"Slacks aren't exactly part of the uniform for witches," noted Hermione.
"You go get her into a proper uniform, I'll go get McGonagall," said Ginny.
"Why me?" asked Hermione.
"If you'll notice, I don't have any roommates, and as lovely as Harry now is, she and I aren't nearly the same size. I think she's closer to Parvati in size anyway."
"Wait, Parvati?" asked Harry. "I don't want anyone else to know about this."
"Harry, until we, or more likely the Professors, can counter the curse Malfoy cast on you, you're stuck as a witch," said Ginny.
"Just look at the bright side, once you're done with this you'll be able to brag you got into Parvati's knickers," joked Ginny.
Unfortunately for Harry's desire for anonymity, Professor McGonagall quickly escalated the matter to the Headmaster. And so Harry found herself in Dumbledore's office along with his Head of House, and waiting for Professor Snape.
"I still don't see why we have to involve Snape," said Harry, tugging the hem of her skirt, indeed borrowed from Parvati, though wearing transfigured knickers rather than borrowing the intimates from one of the other witches. She was wearing light makeup at Lavender's insistence, and had her long auburn hair pulled into a ponytail, the first time in her life that she'd ever been able to have her hair under control.
"Professor Snape," corrected Professor McGonagall, "is checking with young Mr. Malfoy, inquiring as to the nature of his alleged curse upon you yesterday."
"It's not alleged, Malfoy cursed me before Defense class, and then overnight I turned into a girl," countered Harry, still trying to gain some sort of modesty. The day before he'd enjoyed the shortness of the witch's uniform skirt, but now that she was wearing it instead, she was pining for her slacks quite heavily.
"That is still to be determined," said Professor Dumbledore from behind his desk. Albus, though, was hiding his worry, as he feared that this may have been a ploy by Voldemort to counter the effects of the Prophesy, as Severus had told him that Draco would we performing some duty for Voldemort over the school year.
Before Harry could insist on her view of the events of the previous day, Professor Snape dramatically burst through the door into the Headmaster's office, "What has Potter gotten himself into … this … time?" He stopped and stared at the young witch sitting in Dumbledore's office, tugging on the hem of his skirt. He he hadn't known better he'd have sworn that it was Lily Evans sitting there.
"Ah, Professor Snape, what did the young Mr. Malfoy have to say for himself?" asked Dumbledore.
"He claims to have jokingly sent a hex at Potter that would make the dunderhead see everyone as a beautiful witch for a few hours, no more than overnight based on when he cast it," explained Snape, his gaze going back and forth between the Headmaster and the witch that looked exactly like a younger version of his first, and if he was honest only, friend.
"I see," said Dumbledore with a sigh.
"You're not going to let him get away with it, are you? He admitted to cursing me!" shouted Harry.
"You?" asked Professor Snape. He looked the witch over, and upon seeing the scar, sneered, though the face of his first friend, rather than the accursed Potter, softened it quickly.
"It seems that Mr. Malfoy mis-cast his hex, and instead of causing young Mr. Potter to see beautiful witches everywhere, instead caused him to … well …"
"Turn into a girl," finished Harry.
"I see," said Snape. "Obviously we'll need to dispel the curse, however accidental it was."
"And until then?" asked Harry. "I'm a girl, a witch, until you figure out how to change me back. What am I going to do?"
"Why, you'll go to your classes of course," said Professor Dumbledore.
"What?" asked Harry. "But what about my condition?"
"You yourself admitted that, aside from being a witch, which I'm sure you'll find is no detriment to your schoolwork," said Professor McGonagall, "you're perfectly fine. In fact, you're better than fine, if your lack of glasses is anything to go by."
"I'm sure we can announce something to cover your apparent absence, and sudden appearance, during the noon feast. Luckily it is Saturday, and so you'll have a couple of days to adjust before resuming your classes," proclaimed the Headmaster.
"And what am I to call myself? I can't very well go around as Harry if you're going to claim I'm 'absent'," asked Harry.
The Headmaster nodded, "I'm sure we can come up with an appropriate …"
"Rose," interrupted Snape.
"I don't understand," said Dumbledore.
"Lily, before we had our … falling out, admitted that, if she was going to have a daughter, especially if she inherited her auburn hair, she'd name her daughter Rose, after her mother, rather than Harry, after her father," explained Snape.
"Rose Potter then?" asked Harry.
Dumbledore shook his head, "No my dear girl, not Potter. You'll not be able to hide under that name, for you are the last magical Potter in Britain."
"Evans then," declared Snape. "Rose Evans, a fitting name for her mother's daughter."
"Rose Evans it is," said Dumbledore triumphantly.
Harry was still surprised at the civil behavior from her least favorite professor to say anything else.
The Headmaster announced during lunch that Harry Potter had, in light of the heightened activities of Voldemort, gone into private tutoring to better prepare for his future fight against the Dark Lord. In a completely unrelated matter, the sixth year witch Rose Evans would be joining them tomorrow, having emigrated from New Zealand to complete her NEWT studies at Hogwarts.
Ron was at first upset by the seemingly sudden disappearance of his best friend, but then once Hermione explained the matter to him in private, with both his sister and 'Rose' there to support her claims, he changed his tune. It was only after extracting a promise of secrecy, along with a similar curse to that which even months later still plagued Marietta Edgecombe following her betrayal of the DA to Umbridge, that Ron was able to get the full story, though.
With both Professor Snape and Nurse Pomfrey searching for a counter to the curse, though the latter with much more enthusiasm than the former, it fell to Professor McGonagall to escort Rose Evans to Diagon Alley.
"Why are we going to Diagon Alley?" asked Rose.
"You're wearing borrowed clothes and transfigured intimates," stated Professor McGonagall as she brought the tin of floo powder out of her locked desk drawer. "The former will have to be returned to their owners and the latter won't last more than a day or two. So, we need to get you new clothes, from a new uniform to new casual outfits, including intimates, if you're to survive a stray finite."
Rose hadn't considered that, and after swallowing dryly, she dutifully followed her Head of House through the floo to the Leaky Cauldron.
Surprisingly, rather than head directly to the Alley, McGonagall guided her charge towards the entrance to Muggle London.
"Why aren't we headed for Diagon Alley?" asked Rose.
"While we can get much from within the Alley, and we will be returning there for your uniform, the Muggle World provides a much broader selection of clothing for a young woman such as you've now found yourself to be. Even I find the casual apparel of the Wizarding World rather Victorian, and let's not mention the rather unflattering nature of the intimates. No, we'll start in the Muggle World, and once we've given you a proper wardrobe will be return to Diagon Alley for your robes."
Monday morning, before the joint Gryffindor-Slytherin Defense class, Rose had her first encounter with the cause of her feminization. As usual, the two houses were arrayed on opposite sides of the door, with Draco the self-appointed leader of his cohort of Slytherins.
Rose, still rather uncomfortable with the makeup that Lavender had forced her to wear, as light as it was, as well as the underwear that McGongall had helped her pick out, the older witch convincing the clerk at Harrods that Rose was her granddaughter recently moved from New Zealand to attend a boarding school but having lost her luggage, was surrounded by the comforting presence of her fellow Gryffindors. The other sixth year witches, Hermione in the lead, and Parvati and Lavender flanking, were guarded by the remaining sixth year wizards, Ron and Neville in the lead just in front of Hermione, Dean and Seamus bringing up the rear.
"Ah, I see the new girl has already been taken into the warm embrace of her fellow Lions," sneered Draco.
"And what's it to you?" asked Rose, glad that Lavender's makeup had, for the first time in Rose's memory, hidden the scar that had defined her life as Harry.
"With Potter gone to train, it falls to me to lead my fellow sixth years in this time of troubles," said Draco. "But first, let me introduce myself." He brushed past Ron and Neville, and side-stepped Hermione. He then gently took Rose's hand, and brought it up to his lips, kissing it lightly, "I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, heir of Houses Malfoy and Black."
"Charmed," said Rose with a roll of her eyes, jerking her hand out of Draco's light grip.
"Get lost Draco," said Ron, pulling the blonde away from Rose.
Draco shrugged his shoulder, releasing Ron's grip, "Best be civil Weasley, you've no longer got Potter to hide behind. Now it's time you stood on your own merits, rather than by association with your now absent friend." He then turned back to Rose, "If you're willing, I'd like to offer my assistance with whatever you need to get settled here at Hogwarts."
"We'll take care of her," said Hermione, stepping between Draco and Rose. "Why don't you return to your side of the hall."
Draco stepped to the side, and bowed slightly to Rose, "My offer still stands."
"We don't need your help, you slimy snake," said Ron.
Draco stepped back, and then shook his head, "Six years, Weasley, and you're still getting it wrong. Snakes aren't slimy."
"What?" asked Ron.
"He's right Ron, snake's aren't slimy. They're actually quite smooth, and aside from water snakes, generally prefer fairly arid climes," said Hermione.
"Oh," said Ron.
"See what stimulating conversation your new friends offer?" asked Draco, once more looking to Rose.
Just then the door to the Defense classroom opened, and the students filed in. While the class was a continuation of the previous Friday's lessons, Rose did notice one major difference. For the first time she could remember, Snape wasn't harsh on her in class. In fact, for the first time at Hogwarts, she wasn't called out for being the Boy Who Lived, the famous Harry Potter, and the Chosen One. Instead, she was just a normal witch, skilled in Defense, but otherwise anonymous.
She liked it.