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Chapter Text

Harry Potter crouched at his table in the school cafeteria, trying to shrink down and stay hidden. Anna Farling, one of Harry's two best friends, sat as tall as she could next to Harry, scanning the cafeteria for any sign of blond hair atop a wide, angry face. On Harry's other side sat Carrie Foster, Harry's other best friend, who tightly gripped Harry's hand and repeated, "It'll be alright, Harry. It'll be alright."

The airy, open cafeteria was filled with the sounds of hundreds of children eating and talking. Harry breathed deeply and tried to calm his racing heart. His cousin Dudley was looking for him. Dudley loved to taunt Harry and beat him, whenever Dudley could catch him. Worst of all, Dudley would make up wild stories about Harry to tell Harry's Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, who Harry lived with. And Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hated wild stories. They would fly into a rage and lock Harry in his cupboard for days or weeks, letting him out only to go to school and maintain a pretense of normalcy.

Not that Harry's aunt and uncle needed Dudley's stories to go into a rage. They were perfectly happy doing that all on their own, whenever Harry didn't finish a chore just right, or sometimes just for not looking dejected enough.

So Harry had very good reasons to be hiding behind Anna and holding Carrie's hand. Really, Harry was just glad he had two best friends in Anna and Carrie. Most kids in school would barely even talk to Harry, ever since two years ago when Dudley and his pack of bullies put out the word that anyone hanging out with Harry would get their face beaten in.

But Harry had come to realize that Dudley only beat up the boys in the school, not the girls. Maybe because the school tended to take boys hitting girls more seriously. Most of the girls in Harry's year didn't want much to do with him, even so. But Anna, and soon after Carrie, had given him a chance, and they'd soon become a close group of friends.

Anna caught sight of something, and moments later Dudley's thick, curled fists came into view.

"Where's he at?", Dudley demanded, clenching his fists.

"Get out of my face, Dudley," Anna replied, not flinching an inch.

From behind them, on Carrie's side of the table, came a raspy call.

"He's over here, trying to hide!", said Piers Polkiss. Piers was Dudley's best friend, and his face looked decidedly like a rat.

Dudley smiled cruelly, and tried to shove Anna aside to get to Harry. Anna stood her ground and blocked Dudley's path, sheltering Harry. A moment later, Carrie stood too, guarding Harry's other side, still holding on to Harry's hand. Dudley, seeing that he couldn't easily get to Harry, decided to change tactics.

"Looks like ickle Harrykins has found his guardian angels. What a helpless wittle baby," Dudley said, his face twisting into a sneer.

Harry couldn't help himself. The fear, the running away, and now this. It was all too much. He started to cry, squeezing Carrie's hand.

"Oh, now the baby's crying! Crying like a wittle girl! Harry's a cry girl, Harry's a cry girl!" Dudley said, adopting a mocking singsong.

It was weird, but something about Dudley's insults made Harry feel floaty and hopeful inside.

"Harry's a cry girl!" Piers joined in, high-fiving Dudley as they walked away.

Anna and Carrie both hugged Harry, now that the danger was past.

"Are you feeling OK? He is so mean, I can't stand that boy," said Anna.

"Yeah, I'm actually feeling pretty alright," replied Harry.

"You seemed to brighten up when Dudley started talking about you crying," said Carrie, perceptive as always. "What was that about?"

"Um, well, sometimes I feel really sad and I want to cry," said Harry. "But, I feel like I'm hollow and empty and there's no feelings left in me and I can't cry. So crying lets me know I can still feel."

"Aww, that's sweet. You know we like you just how you are, tears and everything," said Anna.

"And – there's something else too," said Harry.

"What is it?" asked Carrie, gently.

"Well – when he called me a girl – it didn't feel bad," said Harry. "I mean, I know it's supposed to be an insult, but it just made me feel all floaty inside. I mean, you two are girls, and you're my best friends. What's wrong with being more like you?"

Carrie glanced at Anna. "There's nothing wrong with it, Harry. What do mean you feel all floaty inside?", she said.

"Well, when I do something that feels like a girl thing, I feel all nervous and bubbly inside, but in a good way," Harry replied.

Anna and Carrie both looked at Harry thoughtfully, waiting for him to continue.

"It's like – my aunt and uncle told me I was a boy, but it never felt quite true. Everyone seems to think I'm a boy, but I don't really get it," they said.

"Well, if you don't like boy stuff, do you want to try some girl stuff together?", asked Anna.

Harry's lips widened into a warm, happy smile. "Yeah, I'd love that," they answered.

The lunch period was almost over, so the three of them agreed to meet up again during the period they all had free, later in the afternoon.

Once they'd each finished their first class after lunch, Harry, Anna, and Carrie met up for their free period. Anna had scouted out an unused Biology classroom, and they all ducked inside. It was quiet and dim, empty desks and old posters.

"So, Harry, where do you want to start with trying out girl stuff?", asked Anna.

Harry thought about their appearance. They had always been small and skinny for their age, and looked even smaller and skinnier because all they had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. They wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched them on the nose. And they had a thin scar on their forehead shaped like a bolt of lightning.

Harry's hair had always been a struggle. Harry's hair was messy and curly, growing long and all over the place. About once a week, Harry's Uncle Vernon shouted at them that they needed a haircut, but the haircuts made no difference.

"Well, maybe let's start with my hair? It's always felt like boy hair," replied Harry.

Carrie looked at Harry appraisingly. "Well, maybe you could try styling it differently?", she said.

They all sat and thought for a bit, concentrating, in the stillness of the empty classroom. Then, suddenly, Harry said "I have an idea! Do either of you have a couple of hair-ties?"

Anna and Carrie hunted through their schoolbags, and soon Anna came up with a pack of dozens of black elastic hair-ties. Harry took two, and bunched up some of their curly, messy hair on the left and tied it off, then bunched and tied another handful on the right. Anna and Carrie gave encouraging smiles.

"You look nice, Harry!", Carrie said.

"Um, thanks. Uh, where can I check how I look?", Harry asked, uncertainty and nervous excitement mixing within them.

The three of them hunted around for something reflective. Behind the teacher's desk, Anna found a large cupboard with a glass window that was shiny enough to be reflective. Harry couldn't help but think about the cupboard they slept in, underneath the stairs at Number 4, Privet Drive. Their cupboard didn't even have a window.

With a deep breath and a sigh, Harry looked into their reflection in the window, tilting their head back and forth to see their curly pigtails. They looked nice. They looked right. Harry adjusted the pigtails slightly for symmetry, and smiled.

This was the first time that Harry's hair had ever stayed where it was supposed to. Whenever Aunt Petunia or anyone else would cut Harry's hair short, it would grow back almost immediately, overnight even. That always made Uncle Vernon furious, and Uncle Vernon had punished Harry severely each time, even though Harry couldn't control it at all. Harry had thought that maybe their hair just could never be changed or shaped at all.

But maybe it was just because their hair had never looked cute before. "I look nice! I like it!", they said. They arranged their pigtails and their bangs in the window before turning to face their friends.

"You look so cute, Harry!", Anna said, ruffling the hair on the top of Harry's head. Harry leaned into her, feeling safe and warm.

"Ok, so what do you want to try next, Harry?", Carrie asked, smiling at her intertwined friends.

Harry looked back into the window of the cupboard. Their shirt, Dudley's castoff, hung down nearly to their knees, and draped over their shoulders like a tent. The only part of the shirt that wasn't oversized was the collar, which Aunt Petunia had pinned up to fit tight around Harry's neck.

"Maybe we could try my shirt next? We could tie a knot in the back so it isn't so loose, and maybe open up the collar?", they said.

Anna and Carrie agreed eagerly. Anna craned her neck to look for the pins in the collar of the shirt, while Carrie carefully tied a knot in the back of the shirt. It reminded Harry of a time once when they had been dragged along when Dudley was fitted for a formal suit at a tailor's. Dudley had hated the process, but Harry liked being the focus of Anna and Carrie's aid and attention – the two of them were wonderful friends.

Anna got the last of the pins removed, and together she and Harry rehung the shirt so the oversized collar show their collarbone and form a neckline.
With Carrie's knot in the back of the shirt, it was shorter and fit tighter, especially across Harry's waist.

"How's it look, Harry?", Anna asked.

Harry gazed back in the cupboard window, turning from side to side to see how the top moved. "It looks – It looks beautiful! Thank you so much!", Harry said, tears forming in their eyes. They looked cute, they looked beautiful. Rather than "undersized", maybe they could be petite.

Harry tore themself away from the window and turned to face their friends. "How do you think I look?", Harry asked.

"You look great, Harry!", Anna answered.

"Yeah, you look lovely! You- You look like a girl. Um. Are you, a girl?", Carrie asked.

Harry paused for a moment, feeling that nervous bubbling excitement inside them again. "Yeah, I think so. I'm a girl. I'm a girl!" It feels like magic to say it, the joy bubbling up inside her.

"Congratulations!", shouted both Anna and Carrie. The two of them both hugged Harry tightly, squeezing her from both sides. After a long, long hug, the three friends pull apart again.

"Ok, Ok, so if you're a girl, you should have a girl name!", Anna said.

"Hmmm," Harry said, putting her hand to her chin. "I've always wondered what Harry was short for. My aunt and uncle never told me. And with my parents – gone, I don't know if anyone knows anymore. So I guess I can pick?"

At the mention of Harry's parents, Carrie took Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze.

After a deep breath, Harry continued. "So what are names that sound like Harry?"

"I'll make a list!", Anna said, rummaging around in her bag and emerging with a pad of paper and a pencil. Carrie and Harry eagerly started calling out ideas.

• Harper? Too old-timey.
• Harley? Sounds like a motocycle.
• Harriet? Wrong first sound – It should sound like Har-ry, not like "hairy." And too old-timey.
• Harlow? Isn't that a town on the other side of London?

"What do you think of Harmony?", asked Carrie. Harmony. Harmony. It sounded peaceful. A respite from the Dursleys and their chaos.

"I – I like it. I really like it," Harmony said, a wide smile growing across her narrow face. "My name is Harmony. Harry is short for Harmony."

"Oh, that's lovely, I'm so happy for you!", says Carrie, hugging Harmony again. Anna smiled proudly, and wrapped her arms around both of her friends.

Harmony couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the school day. Some of the teachers and many of the students gave her strange looks, staring at her top and her pigtails, but Harmony couldn't even begin to care. She was finally herself.

As the school closed down and the teachers started to leave, Harmony finally had walk back to Number 4, Privet Drive. As she walked, she removed the ties from her hair and shook it back into its usual messy shape, and untied and repinned her top. Even with all of that, she still had a hint of a smile on her lips when she reached the house she slept in.

As she walked in the door, she was met by Aunt Petunia, a severe woman with a pinched face, wearing at spotless apron. Harmony's aunt seized her arm and pulled her inside.

"Why were you so late getting home? You should have been here at least five minutes ago, I know when the school closes," Aunt Petunia demanded. "Now mop the kitchen. And dry the floors properly this time!"

Harmony floated over to the kitchen cupboard to fetch the mop, unbothered by her aunt's shouts. Nothing seemed to matter so much, now that she knew her true self.

For the last month of the school term, Harmony continued to play around with her gender, with the help of Carrie and Anna. She tried some red colored pencil on her cheeks, being careful to wash it off at the end of each day. She wore two layers of shirt into school, then took off one and tied it around her waist to make a bit of a skirt.

But eventually the term came to an end and the long, lonely summer began. For the entire summer, without school as an excuse, the Dursleys wouldn't let Harmony out of their sight. Harmony could only look forward to the next year of school, and keep the warmth of her secret alive.

Chapter Text

As June passed and July started to roll by, Harmony's spirits began to lift. The school year was quickly approaching, and this year looked better than ever: Dudley was going to Smeltings, a private school for mean boys who hit people with sticks. Uncle Vernon went there when he was a kid.

Harmony was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Harry had heard something about Stonewall on the Dursley's television once, it was somehow connected to a multicolored parade that happened in London late each June. It seemed like a nice place.

Even better, now there'd be no one at school to report on Harmony. Maybe she could make more friends, in addition to Carrie and Anna. Maybe she could tell more people the truth about herself.

Early one morning, as Harmony was making breakfast for the Dursleys, she heard the clack of the mail slot and the flump of letters hitting the doormat.

"Get the mail, Harry," said Uncle Vernon, not looking up from his newspaper.

"Yeah, Harry, get the mail," said Dursley, trying to make it sound like an insult, unsuccessfully.

Harmony slid the eggs she'd finished making onto a plate, careful not to let them burn. The last time they burned, Uncle Vernon had thrown her into her cupboard hard enough that she'd felt woozy for days. Though the hunger hadn't helped.

As Harmony walked over to the door, she couldn't help but smile. It always made Harmony happy to hear the Dursleys call her Harry, now that she knew it was short for Harmony. It was almost like they were acknowledging her gender against their will.

Three letters lay on the doormat, which Harry scooped up: a postcard from Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister; a bill in a brown envelope; and – a letter for Harmony.

Harmony stopped stock-still in the doorway, her heart vibrating uncontrollably. No one had ever written her a letter in her whole life. Was the letter from Carrie or Anna? That'd be a clever way for them to keep in touch over the summer.

But no, it couldn't be from either of her friends, because of who it was addressed to:

Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
England

And yet, the letter was clearly for Harmony. The envelope was thick and heavy, made from a fancy yellowed paper, and the address was written in emerald-green ink.

Turning the envelope over curiously, Harmony saw a purple wax seal with four animals on it: A badger, an eagle, a snake, and a lion, all within a big letter H.

"Hurry up, boy!", shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?"

Barely even hearing him, Harmony tore her way through the thick envelope with difficulty. She remained oblivious as Uncle Vernon stomped his way around the corner. She was just unfolding her letter when it was yanked out of her hands by Uncle Vernon.

She'd only read as far as the first words of the letter: "Hogwarts School".

"Hey! That's mine!", Harmony called out. She jumped to try to grab the letter back from Uncle Vernon, but he just shoved her backwards without looking.

As Uncle Vernon walked shakily back to the kitchen, his face turned from an angry red to a sickly green, and on to a dead, grayish white.

"Petunia!", he cried.

Aunt Petunia took one look at the letter and gasped, then started to sob, hiding her face in Uncle Vernon's shoulder.

Uncle Vernon glared at Harmony and Dudley, who were both staring at the scene. "Get out, both of you. Out!"

When Dudley and Harmony didn't start moving, Uncle Vernon took one step forward, yanked Dudley out of his chair, and shoved them both into the hallway, slamming the door behind them.

Harmony quickly tried to listen at the keyhole, but she didn't hear Dudley approaching from behind. Dudley spun her around and punched her in the stomach. Dudley's fists were his greatest skill, and Harmony had the wind completely smashed out of her. She could barely breathe, and she certainly couldn't stand. She staggered a few steps away and plopped down in a heap on the stairs.

Only a few minutes later, a wisp of smoke wafted through the house. Harmony had a feeling that was the last of her letter. Her mind was spinning with curiosity. Who could've sent the letter? Who or what was a "Hogwarts"?

That evening, Uncle Vernon sat Harmony down on the sofa, which was already a strange occurrence. He usually didn't like it when she touched the furniture, except to clean it.

"Listen, Harry. We – Your aunt and I have been thinking. You're a growing boy and – you're getting a bit big for your cupboard. We were thinking it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

In her mind's eye, Harmony could see the line "The Cupboard under the Stairs", written on her letter, her mysterious letter. But outwardly, she just nodded, and went to her cupboard to take her few possessions upstairs, clothes and a couple of secret hair-ties. As she did, she could hear Dudley screaming at his parents. "I don't want him in my spare bedroom. That's where all my stuff is!". She didn't hear any response.

Her new room was spacious, and filled with Dudley's old junk. Dozens of presents, broken or abandoned. Harmony set her clothes on her new bed, and gazed around her new room. She couldn't stop thinking about her letter, but she had to clean the place up before she could sleep.

She carefully started moving Dudley's old junk to the closet, moving gingerly from the pain in her stomach, which still hurt from where Dudley had punched her that morning. She carefully placed Dudley's junk into the closet one piece at a time. If she made too much noise, she might anger Uncle Vernon, who was acting oddly nice for once. With the room cleaned up and slightly made hers, Harmony sat by the window and gazed outside, seeing the trees, the streetlights, the world beyond. Her very own window!

Soon, she caught sight of her reflection. Making sure the door was closed, she did up her hair into her nice pigtails once more, and breathed deeply.

From somewhere in the distance, Harmony could swear she heard someone talking in a breathy whisper.

I wonder what lies ahead – a sumptuous snack or a scary threat. Only time will tell.

Same for me. So many mysteries, Harmony replied. She had to be imagining that voice. Normally when she talked to herself, the voice sounded more like her own.

Safe hunting, my secretive friend, came the voice again, growing quieter as it trailed off.

Harmony was hunting secrets – the secret of her letter, which had so frightened her aunt and uncle. The image of the letter swirled around in her mind as she slowly fell asleep.

When Harmony awoke the next morning and slowly, stiffly came downstairs, she found part of a torn-open envelope lying on the doormat. It was made of thick and yellowed paper, just like the last one.

–r. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroo–

As Harmony rounded the corner, she caught sight of Uncle Vernon ripping to shreds the last of the three letters that had arrived for her, obviously pleased with himself.

"You, boy," he barked, glancing up at her. "Get your things and move back to your cupboard. Don't know what I was thinking."

Harmony shrugged at her uncle's fickle whims. She went back to her one-time bedroom to fetch her things, sighing at what could have been.

As she carried her clothes down to her cupboard, she passed her uncle, who was nailing the mail slot shut.

The next morning, a full dozen letters arrived for Harry, shoved under the door, around the sides, over the top. Uncle Vernon burned them all in the fireplace, looking grim but determined. That day he nailed boards over all the cracks around the front, back, and side doors.

The next morning, as Harmony went to cook breakfast, she pulled out the egg carton, which had been handed to Aunt Petunia through the living-room window by a very confused milkman. When she opened it, the carton was filled with crumbled-up letters. But before Harmony could unfold one, Aunt Petunia had shouted for Uncle Vernon, who had grabbed the letter and slapped Harmony hard enough to leave a big red handprint across her face. Harmony wasn't allowed to eat that day.

The next morning, Harmony's cupboard wouldn't open. They'd locked her in. Uncle Vernon only did that when he was really furious. At first, Harmony wondered if they'd locked her in because it was her birthday tomorrow. Her birthdays were never fun, but still, you weren't eleven every day. On reflection, Harmony decided against it: the Dursleys usually told her what they were punishing her for.

As she stretched and sat up, Harmony's stomach rumbled. She probably wouldn't be too weak from hunger today, but it was still worrisome. Harmony heard the noises of something, or actually many somethings, whizzing through the air and crashing all over the place. Uncle Vernon shouted: "Car! NOW!" He wrenched back the lock on Harmony's cupboard, and yanked her out. She glanced back at the living room, which was covered in a still-increasing pile of letters, all made of that same thick yellowed paper.

Dragging Harmony with one hand, Uncle Vernon grabbed Dudley with the other, who was trying to stuff too many toys into a travel bag, and forced them both out to the car. Uncle Vernon went back into the house to grab a long, thin case and stuff it in the boot.

The moment everyone was in the car, Uncle Vernon slammed down the accelerator and sped his way out onto the highway. They drove and drove and drove, until Harmony didn't recognize anything anymore. And still they kept driving. They would get on and off highways almost at random, Uncle Vernon all the while muttering "Shake them off, shake them off."

Uncle Vernon kept driving all day, not stopping for food or breaks or anything. Dudley was screaming, and Aunt Petunia looked sick. Harmony just tried to stay small and unnoticed.

Eventually, Uncle Vernon stopped at a lonely phone booth in an empty stretch of road, miles from anything but bushes and forest. He slammed his way out of the car, yanked open the phone booth, and started dialing. "Daddy's gone mad," Dudley whispered, and Aunt Petunia couldn't even manage to tell him off.

Thirty minutes later, Uncle Vernon got back in the car and sped off once again. This time, they drove down a bumpy dirt road for miles and miles, as the weather got worse and worse. Soon enough, it was raining heavily, and a full storm was brewing.

Uncle Vernon pulled up the car onto the seashore, wind-blown waves crashing all around.

"I've found the perfect place!" Uncle Vernon announced, a wild smile plastered across his face. They all got out into the cold, stormy evening. Uncle Vernon pointed across the lake to a barely-visible shack out on a tiny island off the coast. "No bloody letters are going to reach us here! This gentleman's agreed to rent us the place."

A elderly man in a thick overcoat ambled up to them, holding out his hand pointedly. Uncle Vernon counted out several notes into the man's hand, and he handed Uncle Vernon a ring of keys and pointed to an old rowboat bobbing in the waters below them.

It was freezing in the boat. Icy rain and sea spray chilled them to the bone and swirled around their feet. Uncle Vernon rowed them out to the little island. Harmony found a little bucket in the boat. She filled it with the water in the bottom of the boat and poured it out, again and again.

After what felt like hours, they reached the rocky shore of the tiny island. They scrambled up the wet rocks, slippery with seaweed, to reach the ramshackle hut. Wind whistled through the walls, the fireplace was damp and empty. There were just two rooms: The living room and the bedroom. Harmony didn't mind: the shack still looked nicer than her cupboard.

In a closet, Aunt Petunia found some old cans of beans, but Uncle Vernon couldn't get a fire going, so all they had for dinner were the cold beans from the can. Dudley complained and complained about the taste and the smell. Harmony actually liked the dinner: the beans were filling and there was more than enough to eat. Through it all, Uncle Vernon couldn't stop smiling.

"No damn mail. No damn mail. The perfect spot," he kept repeating.

As night fell, the storm strengthened further. Waves crashed and spray blew against the walls of the hut, creeping through the cracks and leaving everyone damp and wet. Aunt Petunia found some ragged blankets and made up the sagging sofa into a bed for Dudley. She and Uncle Vernon went to sleep next door. Harmony borrowed a few of Dudley's largest clothes to use as a blanket and a pillow.

The storm raged ferociously as the night deepened, and Harmony couldn't sleep, with the sounds of crashing waves and Dudley's snoring. She shivered and turned back and forth under her makeshift blankets. Nearing midnight, Dudley's snores were drowned out by deep, heavy rolls of thunder.

The glowing dial of Dudley's watch told her that it was twenty minutes to midnight. Watching her birthday tick nearer and nearer, Harmony decided that if she wasn't sleeping anyways, she might as well be herself when she turned eleven, to set the new year on a better course.

Harmony sat up, pulled out a pair of hair-ties she always kept in her pocket, and tied up her hair into nice neat pigtails. She could even out her hair just by feel, with all the practice she'd had. Then she carefully opened up the collar on Dudley's massive shirt that she was wearing, and tied back the excess material. Finally, she tied Dudley's most colorful shirt, a red polo, around her waist to make a swirly skirt.

Five minutes to go. To be honest, the year was already looking up. The shack was a nice adventure, there was a Dudley-free school in her future, and there was still the mystery of the letter writer.

Three minutes to go. Harmony had heard from Anna that when your birthday came, you were supposed to make a wish. Harmony had always wished that she could be free of the Dursleys. But this year, she was also going to wish that she could stop living in secret, and tell everyone who she really was.

Two minutes to go. What was that funny crunchy noise? Was the wind blowing the rocks against each other?

One minute and she'd be eleven. Thirty seconds. Twenty. Ten. Nine. Harmony closed her eyes and made her wish, blowing out an imaginary candle just in case.

As she opened her eyes, she saw: three, two, one.

BOOM. The whole shack quivered and Harmony spun to face the door.

Someone was outside, knocking to enter.

Chapter Text

BOOM. Someone was knocking at the door.

Just seconds ago, when Harmony had wished to be free from the Dursleys, she wasn't sure what exactly she was wishing for, but this seemed like a promising development.

Harmony walked carefully to the door, and took a deep breath. She was aware of her pigtails and her makeshift top and skirt, but she wasn't going to let her fear of being discovered stop her. If her second wish was going to come true, to live as herself, she'd have to take the lead.

Harmony reached out and opened the door. In the doorway, framed against the raging storm, stood a very tall, very large man, with a hand poised to knock again. As Harmony looked up, she saw his thick, wild beard and his tangled shoulder-length hair. Harmony smiled. Whoever this man was, he was way better than the Dursleys.

"Hello, welcome! Please come in out of the rain," Harmony said. Please help me break free, she thought.

There was a crash behind Harmony, and Uncle Vernon skidded into the room, holding a rifle in his hands. That must have been was what was in the case from this morning.

"Out of the way, boy! And what on earth do you think you're wearing?", Uncle Vernon shouted.

But before he could focus on Harmony, the very large man squeezed his way through the door.

"And here's Harry!", he declared.

Harmony gazed up into his fierce, shadowy face and saw a warm smile.

"Last I saw you, you was only a baby," the large man continued in a thick West Country accent. "You look a lot like your mum, the hair and the eyes. And you have your dad's smile."

Uncle Vernon made a strange rasping noise in his throat.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!", he said, brandishing his rifle.

"Ah, shut up Dursley, you great prune. And besides, I was invited in," said the large man. He reached out and grasped the rifle by the barrel, jerking it out of Uncle Vernon's hands, then bent it into a knot and tossed it into the corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made a squeaking noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

The large man walked over to the sofa, where Dudley sat frozen. "Could you move over a bit, I could use to get off my feet." Dudley whimpered and ran to hide behind his parents.

"Anyways, Harry," said the large man, turning back to Harmony, "a very happy birthday to you. Baked something special for you – I might have sat on it at some point, but I'll reckon it'll taste just fine."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harmony opened it to find a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written in green icing. Harmony looked up at the large man and started to tear up.

"Thank you! I think this is the best birthday present I've ever had."

Harmony sat down on the couch next to the large man, and started to pull off bits of the cake to eat, enjoying every bite. She didn't care if she got chocolate everywhere. She wasn't at Number 4, Privet Drive anymore.

After a moment, Harmony paused. "Um, sorry, I should ask, who are you?"

The large man chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced myself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Harmony's entire arm.

"What about a nice cup of tea, then, eh?", he said, rubbing his hands together.

His eyes fell on the wet logs sitting sadly in the fireplace. He bent down over the hearth, blocking it from view. A moment later, when he stepped back, there was a roaring fire going. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light, and Harmony felt the wave of warmth roll over her as she continued to eat her cake.

The man named Rubeus sat back down on the sofa next to Harmony, which sagged under his weight. He began taking all sorts of things out of his pockets: A dinged-up kettle, a canteen, a fire poker, a bent package of sausages, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a flask of an amber liquid. He took a swig from the flask before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was filled with the smells of fresh tea and sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing as he worked, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, well roasted sausages off the poker, Dudley fidgeted a bit.

"Don't touch a thing he gives you, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said sharply.

The man named Rubeus glanced back and chuckled darkly.

"Don't worry, they're not for him. Harry here's the one who looks half-starved."

He passed the sausages to Harmony, who had never tasted anything so wonderful, except maybe the cake. But she still couldn't take her eyes off the man named Rubeus.

"Um, I'm sorry – Rubeus," she said, trying out the name, "but I still don't really know who you are."

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. And like I told you, I work at Hogwarts – you'll know all about Hogwarts, of course."

"Uh – That's the school that's been sending me all the letters, right?"

"Exactly," Hagrid nodded. "Hang on a moment, do you mean to tell me that you'd never so much as heard of Hogwarts before you got your letter?"

"No, and if Uncle Vernon had grabbed my first letter faster, I wouldn't've even seen that much," Harmony replied.

Hagrid turned to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the flickering shadows.

"So they didn't tell you anything?", Hagrid asked.

"Anything about what?", Harmony replied, confused.

"About magic of course, about our world. Your parents' world," Hagrid said.

"No, not a thing," Harmony replied, more confident now.

Hagrid turned to face the Dursleys once more, who pressed themselves against the back wall.

"You never told him? Never showed him the letter Dumbledore left for him? You've kept everything from him all these years?", Hagrid demanded, his voice rising in anger.

"Kept what from me?", Harmony asked.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU TO CONTINUE!", yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of terror, her hands over her mouth.

"Ah, go boil your heads, both of you," said Hagrid. "You're a wizard, Harry."

"A what?", Harmony asked.

"A wizard – and once you go to Hogwarts, you'll learn to be a thumping good one, same as your parents learned. And speaking of which, I reckon it's about time you read your letter."

Harmony stretched out her hand to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald-green to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. She pulled out the letter and started to read:

Dear Mr. Potter,
We are are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonogall
Deputy Headmistress

Witchcraft and Wizardry. That sounded like girl magic and boy magic. So letter was saying that Harmony was a witch. That – That actually sounded right. All the times her hair had grown back after Aunt Petunia had tried to cut it short. Impossible escapes from Dudley chasing. All of the strange occurrences that had sent Uncle Vernon into a rage.

"This – This makes sense, Hagrid. There's always been something about me that I didn't know how to put into words. I knew I was different than what people saw of me," she said.

Hagrid smiled down at Harmony and ruffled her hair with a massive hand.

"So Dumbledore, he's the one who left me with my Aunt and Uncle?", Harmony asked.

Hagrid nodded.

"I need a word with him. And what do they mean, they expect my owl?"

"Galloping Glashtyns, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping his hand to his forehead. From another pocket, he pulled an owl – a real, live, rather disheveled-looking owl – a long quill, and a roll of parchment. He quickly scribbled a note that Harmony could read upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Given Harry his letter.
Taking him to buy his things tomorrow.
Harry'd like to speak with you when he gets to school.
Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.
Hagrid.

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl who clamped it in its beak, then walked to the door and threw the owl out into the storm. Harmony stared wide-eyed, fascinated by everything.

Hagrid turned back to the room. "Right, where was I?", he asked.

At this moment, Uncle Vernon, his face a mix of angry red and ashen gray, moved back into the firelight.

"He's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like to see a great Muggle like you try to stop him."

"A what?", Harmony asked, curious.

"A Muggle," Hagrid said. "It's what we call nonmagic folk like them. And it's your ruddy bad luck you grew up in a family of the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

Uncle Vernon started to try to say something, but Harmony cut him off.

"Don't talk about nonmagical people like that. They're not all terrible like the Dursleys. Anna and Carrie are wonderful, they're my best friends, from school," she said.

Hagrid looked taken aback, then softened. "I'm sorry, Harry, I ought to have known you'd have friends in school. I've met some very nice Mug– very nice nonmagical folk. I met your mom's parents once when they came up to visit Hogwarts. Lovely people."

"Wait, but, then," Harmony said, turning towards the Dursleys, and Aunt Petunia in particular. "So, you knew? You knew I'm a witch?"

"Knew! Of course we knew!", shrieked Petunia suddenly. "How could we not know, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that school, and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats.

I was the only one who saw her for what she was – a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud to have a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw breath, then plowed on, seeming like she'd wanted to say this for years.

"Then she met that Potter boy at school and the went off and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be the same, just as strange, as queer, as abnormal. And then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we were stuck with you!"

At the mention of her parents' death, Harmony grew cold and somber. In a quiet voice, she said, "Blown up? You never told me how they died."

"Never told him?" Hagrid roared. "It's an outrage! Harry Potter not knowing his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

"But – What happened, Hagrid?", Harmony asked, still quiet.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He suddenly looked anxious, concerned.

"I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell you, Harry. But someone's got to."

He sat down on the sofa, and stared into the fire for a few seconds.

"It begins, I suppose, with You-Know-Who. And he–"

Harmony interrupted him. "Sorry, but I don't. Know who."

"Ah, right. Well, I don't like saying the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulping Gargoyles, Harry, we're still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See there was this wizard. Seemed nice in school, but he went – bad. As bad as bad can go. Worse than that. His name was –"

Hagrid swallowed, but nothing came out.

"Do you want to write it down?", Harmony asked.

"Yes, that's –, I'll do that." Hagrid pulled out the quill and parchment again, and scrawled out the name Voldemort.

Hagrid shuddered. "Got that?" Harmony nodded. "Good," Hagrid said, tossing the parchment into the fire. "Don't make me write it again."

"Anyway, this – this wizard, about twenty years ago, started looking for followers. Got them too – some were afraid, some wanted a bit of his power, because he was getting power alright.

Dark days, Harry. People going missing left and right, terrible things happening. He was taking over, and the Ministry wasn't doing a thing. Of course, some people stood up to him – and he killed them. Horribly. Or worse. One of the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was scared of. Didn't try taking the school, not just then.

Now, your mum and dad were as good a witch and wizard as I ever knew. Head boy and girl back in their day! But one day, You-Know-Who turned his eye on them. Maybe he wanted them out of the way, maybe something worse. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came to your house and – and –"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a loud wet rumble.

"Sorry," he said. "But I knew your mum and dad, nicer people you'd never seen. Anyway, You-Know-Who killed them. And then – and this is the real kicker – he tried to kill you too. Wanted to make a clean job of it, or maybe he just liked killing. But he couldn't do it. You know that mark on your forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what happens when a powerful evil curse touches you. Took care of your mum and dad and your house, but it didn't work on you. And that's why you're famous, Harry."

Through the whole story, Harmony had just become more and more distant and withdrawn. She was remembering something very painful. A blinding flash of green light, and a high, cold, cruel laugh. Hagrid watched her sadly.

"Took you from the ruined house myself. Brought you to this lot, on Dumbledore's orders."

"Load of old tosh," Uncle Vernon said. Harmony jumped in her seat, startled to remember that the Dursleys were still there. Uncle Vernon seemed to have to worked up a fresh batch of courage. He was glaring at Harmony and his fists were clenched.

"Now you listen here, boy," he snarled. "I'll admit there's something queer about you, probably nothing a good beating won't cure – and as for all this about your parents, well, the world's better off without them in my opinion. Just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end –"

As Uncle Vernon continued, Hagrid's face clenched in anger. He rose and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing it at Uncle Vernon, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursleys. I'm warning you, not one more word."

Staring up the umbrella at Hagrid's reddening face, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again. He flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, sitting down again on the sofa, which now sagged all the way to the floor.

Harmony, having recovered a bit, had more questions to ask. "But what happened to Voldemort?"

Hagrid winced at the name. "Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried to kill you. That's part of your fame, too. Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Doubt he was intact enough to die. Some say he's still out there, biding his time, like, but I don't believe it. People who was on his side came back to ours. Some came out of some kind of trances. Doubt they could've done that if he was coming back.

Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere, but lost his powers. Too weak to do much. Because something about you finished him, Harry. There was something he hadn't counted on – I don't know what, no one does – but something about you stumped him alright."

Was that possible? It sounded incredible, like a fairy tale. But she didn't know anything about how magic worked. Maybe the fairy tales were all true.

"Sounds like I have a lot to learn, then – about what might've happened," she said.

"And Hogwarts is the place to learn it all. You'll be right famous once you get there," Hagrid said, smiling.

But Uncle Vernon was back for a third round.

"Haven't I told you he's not going?", he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish, wands and spellbooks and –"

"If he wants to go, a great M– a great sponge like you won't stop him. He'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts' ever had, Albus Dumbled–"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!", yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he'd finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella again and gripped it like a sword, looking like he was about to run Uncle Vernon through.

"NEVER INSULT ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!"

After a long, tense pause, Hagrid whirled and took Harmony by the hand. With his other hand he swept his kettle, teapot, and everything else into a massive pocket of his coat.

"Come on Harry, we're leaving," Hagrid announced, voice still tense with barely-controlled anger. Harmony nodded, and they strode to the door together. Uncle Vernon spluttered incoherently.

Hagrid wrenched open the door, and together they stepped out into the storm. A crack of thunder sounded as Hagrid soundly shut the door behind them.

Harmony was rapidly getting drenched when Hagrid opened his umbrella.

Immediately, the rain was repelled from the entire area around the two of them. Even the water already on Harmony was flung away, leaving her entirely dry. The sound also lessened, leaving just a peaceful patter and the occasional muffled rumble of thunder.

Finally in a calm situation, Hagrid took a series of deep, heaving breaths. The tension and anger slowly flowed out of him, accompanied by the peaceful sounds of the rain.

"I'm on the job, I've got to stay professional. Sorry about that, can't stand M– people like him."

Harmony nodded. "I can't stand him either."

"You alright for a long night? I'd like to take you in to London to pick up your books and such. We can stay the night there, I know a place, and we'll pick up your things tomorrow," said Hagrid.

"There's nothing I'd rather be doing," said Harmony, smiling widely.

"Glad to hear it. Oh and don't worry about your uncle not paying for Hogwarts. The school is nationally funded, he doesn't know what he's on about," said Hagrid.

Harmony nodded. She had been worried about that. She had no money at all, she wasn't even sure how she'd pay for her school supplies. But she was sure she'd figure out something.

"Alright, careful now, let's get down to my boat," said Hagrid.

Harmony saw through the rain that there was another boat docked next to the one that she'd taken with the Dursleys to get to the little island. This one was much wider and looked better built.

With the aid of Hagrid's umbrella, the rocks down to the boat were all dry, making them much easier to climb over. As they got into the boat, all water in the bottom jumped out and over the front. Hagrid took a seat at the front of the boat, facing backwards, while Harmony sat at the back facing him.

Once they were seated, Hagrid twisted his umbrella, and the boat started to row itself back to shore, slow against the wind.

"Hagrid, you knew my parents. Do you know what Harry is short for?", asked Harmony.

"Well, I never rightly asked them, I don't think. Can't say I know myself," replied Hagrid.

Harmony nodded. "Well, I've decided it's short for Harmony. That's my name," she said.

Hagrid squinted back at Harmony, through the gloom. "Harmony's a girl's name, isn't it?"

"Yes," Harmony nodded again. "I've decided I'm a girl. I'm a witch."

"Hmmm," said Hagrid, a long, low rumble.

There was silence, but for the splash of the oars and the gentle beat of the rain. Lightning flashed, far away.

"Don't reckon I've heard of anyone deciding to be a girl before. Can't say it's normal," Hagrid said, after a long pause.

Silence fell again. A muffled rumble of thunder sounded, and the sea sprayed around them. Harmony's heart beat fast in her chest.

Hagrid's eyes crinkled up into a smile. "But I never cared much for what's normal. You say you're a girl, Har– Harmony, that's enough for me."

Harmony smiled wider than ever, tears starting to roll down her face. She leaned forward in the boat and hugged Hagrid, her arms wide across his front. He gently hugged her back with the hand that wasn't holding the umbrella.

After a good long hug, Harmony sat back.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said shakily.

"Do you want me to tell people? At Hogwarts?", asked Hagrid.

Harmony breathed deeply. This was it, no going back now.

"Yes. Yes, I'm ready for everyone to know. I'm done hiding."

Chapter Text

As their boat continued to row itself across the stormy sea, Hagrid pulled out a newspaper from another voluminous pocket. He tapped his umbrella, and it started to glow with a soft pink light. Holding the newspaper carefully alongside the umbrella, he started to flip through the newspaper.

Harmony could see on the front page that the newspaper was called "the Daily Prophet". The front page title read "New Solo Height Record," and showed a witch wearing a heavy coat and goggles, holding a broom, smiling widely. Did witches really fly on broomsticks, like in the stories?

Harmony blinked. The woman on the front of the newspaper had waved at her. Politely, Harmony waved back, and the woman smiled. Harmony had been surprised, but it was a magical newspaper, after all.

Letting Hagrid finish reading his paper, Harmony read back through her letter. The line "A list of all necessary books and equipment" stuck out to her. Rummaging around in the envelope, she found another sheet of paper. But by now, Hagrid was finishing his paper, and she had more questions for him.

"Ministry of Magic messing things up as usual," Hagrid said, folding his paper and rolling it up again.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?", Harmony asked, curious about this new world.

"Course there is," Hagrid said. "They wanted Dumbledore to run for minister, of course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge won the race. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, asking for advice."

"But what does the Ministry of Magic do?"

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Mug–," Hagrid paused at a look from Harmony, then sighed. "From the nonmagical folk that there's witches and wizards up and down the country."

"Why?"

"Why? Blimey Harmony, some people aren't too nice about folks not like themselves. Someone like me, living in the nonmagical world, I'd likely as not get grabbed and put in a freakshow. And some magical folk would do just awful things to the nonmagical kind if they was living together."

Harmony thought about that for a while, as their boat neared the shore. Hagrid dimmed his umbrella. Eventually, their boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid climbed up the stone steps, then offered a hand to help Harmony out of the boat.

With the late hour, there was hardly anyone on the streets, even though the rain was starting to lessen. As they walked through the town to the train station, a couple of people stumbled out of a bar across the street. They stopped and turned to stare at Hagrid. Harmony couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as everyone else, he also kept pointing at ordinary things like parking meters and exclaiming "See that, Harmony? What will they think of next?". It made Harmony wonder what the magical world was like, if this was so strange.

Harmony scrambled a bit to keep up. "So, Hagrid, are all the fairy tales true? Are there dragons and elves and all that?"

"Crikey, I'd like to raise a dragon," said Hagrid. "And a lot of elves work at Hogwarts, you'll meet them when you get there."

"You'd like to raise a dragon? Like take care of one?"

"Wanted to ever since I were a kid – ah, here we go."

They'd reached the station, and Hagrid closed his umbrella as they entered. Trains didn't run often this time of night, but there was one in fifteen minutes. Hagrid, who didn't understand "paper money", gave the bills to Harmony to buy their tickets.

They sat quietly on a bench in the station. From another massive pocket, Hagrid pulled out some yarn and needles and started knitting what looked like a canary-yellow blanket for a house.

Harmony decided she wanted to learn to knit – then she could have any shape of clothes she wanted, not just reshaping Dudley's old clothes.

"Hagrid, is there magic for knitting?", she asked quietly.

"Course there is," he smiled, counting a row of stitches. "Have you ever knit much of anything before?"

"No, the Dursleys wouldn't let me touch anything sharp. Or anything interesting."

"Well, why don't I get you started with the basics, and I'll show you the magic part once we're at Hogwarts, alright?"

Harmony nodded happily. From deeper within the same pocket, Hagrid pulled out a smaller pair of needles and another ball of yarn, this one pink and purple. Hagrid set the needles in Harmony's hands, then carefully adjusted her grip. Hagrid got her going, and soon enough, she had a rhythm down, making stitch after stitch.

After not too long, the train pulled up to the station. Harmony went to hand back the needle and yarn, but Hagrid waved her off. Instead, she stowed it all in her pants pockets, under her makeshift skirt.

After they'd taken their seats on the nearly-empty train – Hagrid spanned two – Hagrid yawned and leaned back.

"Still got your letter, Harmony?", he asked. She pulled out the envelope and opened the second sheet of paper.

"There's a list in there of everything you'll need. Take a look, so you'll know what we're doing tomorrow."

First year students will require:

1. Three pairs of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

There was more, but Harmony's eyes caught on the mention of "dragon hide". Harmony had always been fascinated by Aunt Petunia's fancy clothes, but sometimes she would brag that her coats were "fur lined", and that made Harmony feel queasy. She didn't like the thought of wearing something an animal had died for.

"Hagrid, when it says that the gloves should be made of dragon hide, does that mean they kill –"

Hagrid chuckled. "No, no, no. They wouldn't go to all the trouble of raising a whole dragon just for a pile of gloves. No, a well-fed dragon sheds their hide every month or two. Comes off in patches all over the place, you'll be finding them for weeks. The patches are big, tough pieces of hide. That's what they make the gloves out of. Lovely creatures, dragons."

Harmony nodded, then read onward.

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

• The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
• A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
• Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
• A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
• One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
• Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
• Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
• The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quetin Trimble

• wand
• cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
• set glass or crystal phials
• telescope set
• brass scales

Students are allowed to bring an owl, a cat, or a toad. Any other pets by approval only.

"Can we buy all of this in London?", Harmony asked, looking up towards Hagrid.

"If you know where to go," Hagrid replied.

As the train arrived at their stop, Harmony looked around at everything curiously. She had never been to London before. In fact, the only places she'd been to outside the grip of the Dursleys were school and the care of Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys' elderly neighbor who sometimes took care of Harmony. It was still dawning on her that she was really free from the Dursleys.

Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, but the nonmagical world obviously did not accommodate him. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too noisy.

"I don't know how anyone manages without magic," he said, as they climbed a set of steps up to the surface. The rain had finished entirely. The road was lined entirely with shops, all of which were shuttered this deep into the night. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked like it would sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street, no different from Little Whinging. Were there really shops that sold spellbooks and broomsticks, and owls that would deliver your mail?

"This is it," said Hagrid, "the Leaky Cauldron. Famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harmony wouldn't've noticed it was there. In fact, she had the strangest feeling that pub only slid into view when Hagrid mentioned it. Before she could say anything, Hagrid steered her inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, loosely holding partially filled glasses, looking half-asleep. The only person who seemed awake was the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a weathered walnut.

The bartender seemed to know Hagrid, smiling and waving. He reached for a glass and asked, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, I'm on Hogwarts business," he said, holding Harmony's shoulder. Hagrid yawned. "Blimey, I'm exhausted. Room for two, please."

The bartender nodded sleepily. He pulled a key off of a hook behind the bar and said, "Second floor, room on your left."

"Thanks, Tom. Put it on the Hogwarts tab." Tom nodded, and Hagrid squeezed into a narrow stairwell next to the bar. Harmony followed along after him. When they reached the landing, there was a broom sweeping the hallway with no one holding it. Harmony stared at it, but Hagrid paid it no mind, opening their door. It was a simple room, with two beds and a wide window.

As Harmony entered the room, she looked back and saw the broom sweeping the stairs they'd just walked up.

Hagrid immediately plunked down on the larger of the two beds. "Blimey, Harmony, I can't keep my eyes open. See you in the morning," he said, yawning widely.

Harmony walked over to the other bed and sat down. She was sleeping in her own bed, next to a window. What a birthday it had been so far. As Hagrid turned off the lights and they prepared to sleep, Harmony couldn't help but smile. She was a witch, and she was free.

Chapter Text

Harmony Potter awoke peacefully. No one was stomping down the stairs over her head. No one was banging on the door of her cupboard. No one was screaming at her to make breakfast. Carefully, she opened her eyes. To her continuing surprise, no dusty steps sat just in front of her face. Instead, she woke to a neat, well-apportioned room, with sunlight streaming in the window and Hagrid sleeping gently across from her.

Her wish was still coming true.

Harmony sat up and got dressed, swapping the two old shirts of Dudley's – yesterday's grayish top became today's skirt, while the red polo that was yesterday's skirt became today's top. She carefully arranged her pigtails, smiling in anticipation of getting to wear them all day long.

By now, Hagrid was stretching and blinking awake. "Hey there, Harmony. Ready to meet the magical world?"

Harmony thought about it. "You said I'd be famous, right?"

"Course you'll be, you vanquished You-Know-Who."

Harmony nodded. What was she going to do if someone asked her about that? She still had no idea how it happened. She took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Hagrid squeezed his way down the stairs, and Harmony followed him down. The dingy pub was a little brighter than last night, but not by much. A few more people were scattered around, drinking from tiny glasses or smoking long pipes.

"Two for breakfast, Tom," said Hagrid to the bartender, clapping a hand on Harmony's shoulder.

"Good Lord," said Tom, peering at Harmony, "is this – can this be –?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent. Harmony had expected something like this, but not so fast.

"Harmony Potter, pleased to meet you," she said, not sure what else there was to say.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harmony and seized her hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Everyone was staring at her, like they expected her to say something. Hagrid was just beaming.

Harmony took a deep breath. "On Halloween, ten years ago, my parents died, and Voldemort was vanquished," she said. Half the room flinched at the name. "And I survived. I don't know how it happened, I'm just starting out as a witch. But I'm proud to be part of the end of Voldemort."

There was another moment of silence, then there was a great scraping of chairs. The next moment, Harmony found herself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mist–, Mis–, well, ah, Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last. Oh, and, ah, sorry for your loss."

Harmony nodded, somberly.

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud," said the next man.

"Always wanted to shake your hand – I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted Ms. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Deadalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!", said Harmony, cheering up, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"She remembers!", cried Deadalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? She remembers me!"

Harmony shook hands again and again – Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!", said Hagrid. "Harmony, Professor Quirrell will be teaching you at Hogwarts."

"Po– Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harmony's hand, "ca– can't tell you how pl– pleased I am to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too," Harmony replied politely. "What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"Defense against the Da– Dark Arts," Quirrell forced out, as though he'd rather not think about it. "Not that you nee– need it, eh, Po– Po– Potter?"

"I'm still learning to be a witch, Professor," Harmony said with a smile.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrel keep Harmony to himself.

Tom brought out the breakfast plates, toast and scrambled eggs and sausage. Harmony ate hers with one hand, while shaking hands with the other. After perhaps ten minutes, Hagrid stood in front of Harmony, blocking the queue.

"Must get on – lots to buy. Come on, Harmony."

Doris Crockford finished shaking Harmony's hand one last time, and Hagrid led the way through the bar and out to a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash bin and a few weeds.

"Told you, didn't I? Told you you was famous. Professor Quirrell was trembling something fierce to meet you – mind you, he's usually trembling."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studying out of books, but then he took a year off to get some first-hand experience. They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, then there was a nasty bit a trouble with a hag – never been the same since," Hagrid said, barely pausing. "Scared of the students, scared of his own subject, and with good reason given the curse on the position. Now, where's my umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? Harmony's head was swimming. It really sounded like all the fairy tales were true. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the bin.

"Three up... two across," he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harmony." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he touched quivered – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – seconds later, they were facing an archway large enough for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned for what seemed like miles.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

Harmony could've used about eight more eyes. She turned her head in every direction, trying to look at everything at once, barely looking where Hagrid was leading her. There was so much to see: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing the shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying "Doxy liver, a Galleon an ounce, they're mad."

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop whose sign said Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. There were shops selling robes, selling telescopes, selling strange silver instruments like nothing Harmony had ever seen before. Windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eel's eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...

Ahead of them rose a snowy white building that towered over the small shops nearby.

"Gringotts," said Hagrid, "the wizarding bank."

"Why are we here?"

"We've got to get your money, haven't we?"

"My money?"

"Didn't think your parents left you with nothing, did you?"

Again, she teared up a bit to think of the parents she'd never known. With a deep breath, she faced the building. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was–

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps. He had a formal, composed face, a well-trimmed beard, and very long fingers and feet, Harmony noticed. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

"You'd be mad to try and rob it," whispered Hagrid.

Two more guards, both goblins, bowed them through the silver doors into a vast marble hall. About a hundred goblins were sitting in high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in long ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyepieces. There were two many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of them. Hagrid and Harmony made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to an available teller. "We've come to take some money out of the – the Potter safe."

"You have the key for the safe of Mr. Harry Potter, sir?", asked the teller.

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets, handling all sorts of things to Harmony, including a pile of moldy dog biscuits.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The teller looked at it closely. "That seems to be in order."

"Also, could we update the name on the safe?", piped up Harmony. "My name is actually Ms. Harmony Potter, they just didn't know that ten years ago."

The goblin, who sat near eye level for Hagrid, leaned down to look at Harmony. She gave him a friendly smile.

"Please wait here," said the teller. In only a minute or so, he returned with a fresh white sheet of parchment, partially filled out.

"Please complete this and sign," said the teller handing her the parchment and a tall, wavy quill. Harmony quickly gave Hagrid back his pile of dog biscuits and took the form and quill.

Let it be known that the account formerly held under the name
Mr. Harry Potter
should instead be held under the name
________________.
Signed,
________________.

"And I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest, as Harmony diligently wrote in her name. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read Hagrid's letter carefully. Harmony signed her name on the form. This was the first time she'd ever signed something of importance, so she made sure to memorize how she signed it.

"Very well," said the teller, handing Hagrid's note back to him. "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

As Griphook walked over, Harmony handed the teller her completed form, which he accepted with a nod.

Griphook was yet another goblin, wearing goggles and gloves in addition to the standard uniform. He led Hagrid and Harmony towards one of the doors leading off the hall. Harmony desperately wanted to ask about You-Know-What in the numbered vault, but she knew better than to try.

Griphook held open the door for them, which opened to a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches, with a steeply-sloped railway track heading down. Griphook whistled to summon a little cart, and they all loaded in and set off.

The cart started through a maze of twisty passages, all alike. Soon, the speed of the cart was blowing fiercely in Harmony's eyes. She saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage, then they plunged deeper, traversing an underground lake with huge stalactites and stalagmites.

As they traveled, Hagrid looked more and more green, and when the cart stopped at last, Hagrid had to lean against the stone wall to recover. The cart had stopped next to a long row of doors, each a square about a foot on a side. The row of doors was packed three high, and stretched on beyond the curve of the cave in both directions. None of them were marked in any way Harmony could see.

Griphook ran his hand across a line of doors, then stopped on one in particular, in the middle of the three rows. He unlocked the door, releasing a cloud of green smoke. As it cleared, Harmony gasped. Inside were stacks of gold coins. Puddles of silver. A sprinkling of little bronze ones.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Harmony's – the Dursleys couldn't have know about this or they'd've tried to steal it. How often had they complained about how much Harmony cost them?

"Now listen Harmony," Hagrid said, looking serious, "this has got to last you for seven years, until you're an adult. There'd've been more, but a lot of your parents' savings went in to buying their house, and –"

Harmony started to cry again at the sudden mention of her parents, hugging Hagrid. He placed a hand on her back, gently.

"Ahem. Well, ah, Griphook, how much do you reckon is in the vault, all up?", asked Hagrid, changing the subject quickly.

Griphook took a long, careful look at the vault, tapping his fingers together in a rapid and intricate gesture.

"Between three and four hundred Galleons, sir. I'd need to physically inspect the vault to obtain a more precise count," said Griphook, deferentially.

"That's plenty good enough, thank you," said Hagrid. "Oh, Harmony, the gold ones are Galleons. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, let's get out about forty Galleon's worth, that should keep you for the year, we'll leave the rest in the safe for later."

Hagrid pulled out a little bag and handed it to Harmony, who carefully swept the coins into the bag. She held it reverently. A whole year's spending money, all in her hands. Far more than she'd ever held before.

Hagrid turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only, sir," said Griphook.

They were dropping even deeper and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they dropped. They want rattling over a deep ravine, and Harmony leaned out to try to see the into dark abyss below. Hagrid groaned and pulled her back into the cart by the scruff of her neck.

When they arrived, they found a thick pair of double doors covered in tiny runes which looked unaccountably blurry to Harmony. Over the doors was inscribed DCCXIII, which made Harmony wonder just how old Gringotts was. Strangest of all, the doors had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers, right down the crease between the two doors. The doors seemed to melt at the edges, forming a gap between the doors, which swung open easily at Griphook's push.

"If anyone but a specially approved Gringotts goblin tried that, their hand would be trapped in the doorway," said Griphook.

Harmony shivered at the thought. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault. She watched as the door swung open, but the vault was empty. Well no, there was a grubby little brown-paper package lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harmony supposed that mystery would have to wait for another day. Griphook gave the doors another stroke, and they melted back together again.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and apologies if I'm sick on the way back," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later, they were back in the entry hall.

"Thank you for your help, Griphook," said Harmony, as Hagrid still looked quite queasy. Griphook smiled and nodded his goodbye.

Harmony made her way over to another goblin teller, and changed four gold Galleons for £200 in paper money. She wanted to make some purchases in the nonmagical world as well.

With that complete, they were back outside, blinking in the sunlight. Harmony didn't know where to start. She had to be careful with money, but for the first time in her life, she had options.

Chapter Text

Harmony stood in front of Gringotts, looking down the wonderland that was Diagon Alley.

"Might as well get your uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. Harmony glanced down at her improvised, hand-me-down clothes, and nodded enthusiastically.

"Listen, Harmony, would you mind if I slipped off for a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate those Gringott carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harmony entered Madam Malkin's on her own, feeling nervous.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harmony started to speak. "Got the lot here – I've got another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

Harmony turned to the back of the shop, where a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second employee, another witch, pinned up his long black robes.

Harmony took a deep breath. "Oh, um, sorry, but I'm actually a girl, so could I get the witch's robes?"

Madam Malkin squinted at Harmony very intensely, who wilted from the inspection. "You certainly don't look –"

Harmony interrupted in a panic. "I know I look odd, my aunt and uncle wouldn't let me eat most of the time, but now that I'm away from them I should start to recover and look more normal." The words just tumbled out of her mouth, barely thinking about what she was saying. She just didn't want this witch to decide that she wasn't allowed to have witch's robes.

Madam Malkin looked extremely taken aback at this revelation. She spluttered a bit, putting her hand to her mouth. Eventually, she recovered enough to speak. "Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry. Of course, we'll get you fitted right away."

Madam Malkin walked Harmony to the back of the shop, stood her up on a stool next to the boy, slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harmony, "nice to meet someone else who's going."

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why us first years can't have our own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harmony was strongly reminded of Dudley.

"Have you got your own broom?", the boy went on. "Play Quidditch at all?"

"I'm a first year, so no, I don't have my own broom," said Harmony. What on earth was Quidditch?

"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"What's a house?", said Harmony softly, giving conversation one last chance.

"Well, no one really knows where they'll be until they get there," said the boy, ignoring her completely, "but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"I'm sure Hogwarts would be devastated if you left," said Harmony sarcastically. The boy was just a more-polished Dudley.

"I say, look at that man!", said the boy suddenly, nodding towards the front window. Hagrid was standing outside, grinning at Harmony and pointing at the two large ice creams he'd got for them, once she was done.

"That's Hagrid," said Harmony, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

"He's the Keeper of Keys, actually."

"Hmmm. I heard he's a sort of savage –"

"You must've heard wrong," interrupted Harmony, starting to lose her temper. "He's very nice, and his knitting is excellent."

"Do you think that?", said the boy with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your –"

"I ran away from my aunt and uncle. He helped me escape," said Harmony, with no give in her voice at all.

"Oh, that's actually pretty cool," said the boy, impressed. "And were they our kind?"

"No, they weren't magical," said Harmony, refusing to be embarrassed.

"Hmmm. So you've never been brought up to know our ways? Never heard of Hogwarts before you got your letter?", asked the boy with a condescending tone.

"No, what of it?", said Harmony, turning to stare the boy in the eye. With bullies like Dudley, it was essential not to back down or show weakness. Until it was time to run, of course.

The boy met her gaze for a moment, but soon broke eye contact.

Into the silence came Madam Malkin's voice. "That's you done, my dear," she said to Harmony. Harmony mentally dismissed the annoying boy and walked around to the front of the shop.

Harmony paid for her stack of fresh robes. The first clothes she'd had for her very own. "Is there somewhere I could change into these?"

"Sure, just over there, dear."

Not long later, Harmony stepped out of the shop, wearing the full set of witch's robes, besides the hat: a black button-down wool shirt, a knee-length black gathered skirt, black tights, and a black outer robe over it all. She'd carefully written her name on the nametag: Harmony Potter. And then for good measure, she'd added Girl, just in case anyone was wondering.

Hagrid handed her a bag to put the rest of her new clothes into. She dumped her old hand-me-downs from Dudley in a nearby bin, not wanting to hold onto those days for one minute longer. Feeling lighter and cleaner, she happily accepted an ice cream from Hagrid. It was delicious: chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts. Harmony had never before had an ice cream that Dudley hadn't turned up his nose at first. Harmony was sure that boy from Madam Malkin's had turned up his nose at a lot of ice creams.

"What's up?", asked Hagrid.

Harmony sighed. "Some rich chuffer¹ in the shop."

They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harmony cheered up a bit when she found a bottle of ink that cycled through the colors of the rainbow as you wrote. When they'd left the shop, she sighed again.

"I'm still thinking about that rich kid in the shop. He was going on about all sorts of things I'd never heard of, like Quidditch, and some kind of houses, and he really didn't like people who didn't grow up magical."

"What does he know about that? Some of the best I ever saw grew up nonmagical, look at your mum!", said Hagrid.

Harmony smiled a bit. She was following in her mother's footsteps, that was right.

"Thanks, Hagrid. So what's Quiddich?"

"Our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like football in the sky – everyone follows Quiddich – played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls – sort of hard to explain the rules."

"Thanks," said Harmony. It did sound pretty fun, she did want to learn to fly. "And what are the houses?"

"School houses. Everyone's in one. You live with your house and take classes with them. There are four of them, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor. I was in Gryffindor myself – stands for bravery. Hufflepuff's for community, Ravenclaw for brains, Slytherin for cunning. But there's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one of them."

"Voldemort was at Hogwarts?"

Hagrid winced. "Aye, I knew him," he said darkly.

They went in to a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts to get Harmony's school books. The shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones, books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.

Harmony turned a corner and was confronted by a bright, eye-catching book with the title The Boy who Lived: The Downfall of the Darkest Wizard of Our Age. On the cover were a witch and a wizard who each looked oddly similar to her: The wizard's smile, the witch's eyes. The witch was holding a swaddled baby. Harmony could hear her heart in her ears, and time seemed to slow down. The base of the cover bore the caption James, Lily, and Harry Potter. The images of her parents waved gently at her, smiling.

Harmony dropped to her knees and took the book off the shelf, almost reverently. So this was who her parents were. Her hands brushed the cover. She'd only ever imagined what they looked like. Now, they were so much more real. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she hugged their picture to her chest. They'd loved her. She loved them.

Harmony let the feelings wash over her. There was nothing wrong about crying, it meant you could still feel. After a time, she stood up again, brushed herself off, and dried her eyes on her sleeve. She carefully placed the book back on the shelf, and turned to leave the aisle.

Coming down the aisle the other way, she saw the proprietor of the shop, a black woman wearing bright purple robes, whose nametag identified her as Madam Villanelle. When Madam Villanelle caught sight of Harmony, she stopped at once.

"My word, are you – a Potter, miss?", said the woman.

Harmony smiled. "Yes, Harmony Potter, Harry for short. Pleasure to meet you."

She politely shook hands with the stunned-looking witch.

"Well, I suppose you must be here for your books, for your first year of school?", asked Madam Villanelle, recovering quickly.

"Yes, Hagrid's helping pick them up," Harmony replied. Hagrid, hearing his name, came around the next aisle over and waved.

"Ever so pleased to meet you, Miss Harmony. Were you looking through our Recent Events section?", asked Madam Villanelle.

"I'd never seen my parents before," Harmony said honestly.

"I'm so sorry, my dear." After a moment's pause, Madam Villanelle continued. "Come with me, let me give you something."

Madam Villanelle led Harmony over to the front counter, and rummaged around for a moment. She came back out holding a publicity poster of the book Harmony had been looking at, with a larger and neater image of the front cover. Harmony smiled widely, placing a hand tenderly across her parents' images. Her eye did catch on the world "Boy" in the title, however.

Madam Villanelle seemed to notice. "Well, that title's not so accurate, is it? Let me fix that for you." She quickly scribbled out the Boy in the title and replaced it with Girl. "That better, my dear?". Harmony nodded.

Madam Villanelle pulled out her wand, and with a complex gesture and an incantation that Harmony didn't quite catch, the word Girl changed font and melded seamlessly into the title.

The Girl who Lived: The Downfall of the Darkest Wizard of Our Age

Harmony gasped at the show of magic, and smiled up at Madam Villanelle. "Thank you ever so much, ma'am." She took one last, loving look at her parents, then rolled up the poster and put it in her bag.

Harmony and Hagrid finished finding all of Harmony's school books, and brought them up to the counter to pay.

"Harmony, I had an idea," said Madam Villanelle. "I often have events where authors and famous figures come to my store, to autograph books and talk with people interested in their story, for an hour or two. It's very well-managed, I always make sure that the speaker can stop if they're feeling overwhelmed. Is that something you'd be interested in?"

Harmony thought it over. It would be nice to be on the front foot for once, telling other people who she was instead of them making assumptions about her.

Before she could answer, Hagrid said, "Well, I'm not rightly sure when she'll be in Diagon Alley next."

"But I'd love to have an autographing event when I'm next around," Harmony decided.

"That's delightful, I'm looking forward to it. Just let me know when you're planning to visit. Oh, and I'd be happy to cover your travel costs and give you some books you might be interested in, to show my appreciation."

Harmony smiled and nodded. They paid for Harmony's school books, and stepped out into the Alley again.

Harmony picked up a pewter cauldron, a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients, and a collapsible brass telescope.

Hagrid checked Harmony's list again. "Just your wand left – Ah, yeah, and I still haven't got you a birthday present."

Harmony felt herself go red. "I was thinking of rescuing me from the Dursleys as a birthday present," she said, a bit quietly.

"True enough, I suppose. But let me get something for you. Tell you what, I'll get your animal. I know animals. You don't want a toad, they just hop off into corners. And I don't like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get you an owl. I love my little Dervish here," he said, petting one of his innumerable pockets gently. The pocket hooted affectionately.

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering jewel-bright eyes. Harmony now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. She couldn't stop thanking Hagrid, again and again.

"Don't mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don't expect you've had a lot of presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now – best place for wands, Ollivanders, and you got to have the best wand."

A magic wand. This was what Harmony had been really looking forward to.

This last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since Olympiad 99.2. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single ancient-looking chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harmony felt as though she'd entered a very strict library. It was a quiet, peaceful place, feeling like nothing much had changed in centuries. She looked around at the thousands of narrow boxes, piled neatly right up to the ceiling. She breathed deep and felt at ease, more than anywhere she'd been that day. The dust and silence in here seemed to lie in the quiet grasp of some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," Harmony replied softly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question, but Harmony answered anyways.

"It's short for Harmony."

"Hmmm. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harmony. While she was glad to be following her mother, she wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were very intense.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harmony were almost nose to nose. She could see herself reflected in those misty eyes. She had the sudden urge to lean forward and boop her nose against his, but she restrained herself.

"And that's where –"

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harmony's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly.

"Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands – well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do –"

He shook his head and then, to Harmony's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again – Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddely stern.

"Uh – yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still go the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"I don't cast spells, that's the law," said Hagrid quickly.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well now, Mr. Potter. Let me see. Which is your wand arm?"

"Uh, well, um – well, I'm right-handed," said Harmony, taken aback by the casual "Mr.".

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn mane hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon spinal spikes. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, phoenixes, or dragons are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Harmony suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between her nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter," he said, Harmony wincing again, "try this one. Beechwood and dragon spike. Nine inches. Nice and flexible, just take it and give it a wave."

Harmony took the wand and, not knowing what to expect, waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try–"

Harmony tried – but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harmony tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the shop's counter, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become. He made Harmony think of an hyperactive librarian, eager to show off all of his favorite tomes to a guest.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harmony took the wand. She felt a sudden warmth in her fingers, not like any previous attempt. She raised the wand above her head and brought it swishing down through the dusty air. A stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped, and Mr. Ollivander cried "Oh, bravo! Yes indeed, oh very good. Well, well, well – how curious – how very curious."

Harmony quivered with excitement. She could do magic! Real magic! On purpose! Her birthday was just getting better and better.

Mr. Ollivander put Harmony's wand back in its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious – curious –".

"Sorry," said Harmony, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harmony with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. The phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand is named Fawkes, he lives at Hogwarts. It so happens that he gave another feather, just one other. It is very curious indeed for that wand to choose you when its brother, why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harmony swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember – I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter – After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

Harmony shivered. She didn't think she liked Mr. Ollivander too much. She paid seven gold Galleons for her wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harmony and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley.

"So, Hagrid, what's the plan now?", asked Harmony as they reached the Leaky Cauldron again. "I think that's everyting on the list."

The pub was now completely empty except for Tom, the bartender, wiping down the counter.

"Um, well, I figured I'd take you back to the train stop, to head back to your folks," said Hagrid awkwardly.

"What?", asked Harmony, incredulous. "No, no, no-no-no. You can't make me go back to them. I'm not going back to them. They beat me, they starved me, they locked me in a room so small I couldn't stand."

She traced the outline of Uncle Vernon's hand across her face, where he'd slapped her two days ago for finding crumpled up letters in the egg carton. She felt the bruise where Dudley had sucker-punched her, the day she received her first letter. She couldn't be going back to all that. She couldn't.

"And if I went back now, it'd be even worse. I ran away, and they know I'm a girl. They'd lock me in the cupboard for the rest of my life, until I starved to death." Harmony said, panicking fully. "If you put me on that train, I'm getting off at the first stop, and I'll sleep under a bridge, I don't care. I'll – I'll –"

It felt like the walls were closing in around her, and she was breathing faster and faster. She hugged herself and dropped into a chair, shaking, staring into nothing.

Hagrid looked more and more alarmed. "Woah, alright, alright, it's OK. Blimey, this is complicated. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. When they sent me to deliver your letter, they just told me to bring you out to Diagon Alley for a trip, they didn't tell me what sort of people the Dursleys were. But it's not my call to make. Listen, tell you what. I'll order you some dinner, and I'll get in touch with someone from Hogwarts."

Harmony nodded, still shaking uncontrollably.

"Um, Tom, do you have a fireplace I could use? Oh, and could you get Harmony here some dinner?", asked Hagrid.

Harmony couldn't even start to be curious about the fireplace. All she could think about was the Dursleys. She'd thought she was free. Maybe she should just run away, tap through the brick wall and hide in one of the shops in Diagon Alley? Or hide in London? Or she could just get a room in London, she was pretty sure £200 could last her for a few days at least. Hagrid had her key, so she might not be able to get more money out of her vault, but maybe she could change what was left of her spending money at Gringotts for Muggle currency?

Or maybe Carrie or Anna's families would take her in? Or hide her? Anna'd offered to do that for her once, but after a long think Harmony had turned her down. The risk of being caught had been too great, but what was there to lose now? Or maybe one of the wizards would help her? Deadalus Diggle from this morning and Madam Villanelle from the bookshop seemed like the best shots, but could she really trust people she –

Her thoughts were interrupted by a lovely plate of bangers and mash which Tom set down in front of her, bowing slightly. She gazed at it, aware that if all went wrong, if the Dursleys got her again, it could be the last meal of her life.

"Just a pleasure to have you in my pub, just delighted," said Tom, the bartender.

Suddenly, Harmony was struck by an idea. "Tom, how much are your cheapest rooms? I'm trying to work out where to stay for the next month."

"Oh, not much at all, my dear, not much at all. I've got plenty of rooms. The eighth floor and above are only seven sickles a night for a single bed, breakfast included, and there's a discount for longer stays."

Harmony wasn't even going to question how such a tiny pub could have eight floors. She did some mental arithmetic, which always helped calm her down. It made her feel like she was at school again. Seven sickles by thirty days until Hogwarts was two hundred ten sickles. Divided by seventeen sickles a galleon was twelve or thirteen galleons. She could afford that, especially if she could earn some money signing autographs at Flourish and Blotts. And a discount for longer stays. It was going to be alright.

Breathing deeper now, she thanked Tom and shakily started to eat her dinner. The delicious food helped ground her. Her ears stopped buzzing and she could feel her fingers again. It was going to be alright.

Chapter Text

As the sun began to set on Harmony's eleventh birthday, the shadows in the Leaky Cauldron stretched across the dark, cramped room, and elaborately dressed people in robes of all colors began to enter and order drinks.

Harmony sat hunched over her plate of bangers and mash, trying to breathe carefully. She could feel herself shrinking and trying to vanish, like she had so often at the Dursleys' dinner table. She just had to breathe, to keep breathing.

From the back of the Cauldron, behind the bar, came a flash of green light and a rush of heat, rolling out over the entire room. Harmony's head jerked up and her heart began to race. She'd had nightmares about a green flash of light, though she could never remember why.

A tall black-haired witch in emerald green robes walked out from behind the bar. She had a very stern face, and Harmony's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. Towering over her followed Hagrid, his face lighting up as he caught sight of Harmony. Harmony's pulse began to slow again. With Hagrid around, nothing could be that all that bad.

As Hagrid and the witch walked up to the table, Harmony stood politely.

"Well, I reckon I'd better introduce you two. Harmony, this is Professor McGonogall. Oh ah, she's the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts."

Harmony smiled carefully and put out her hand to shake. Professor McGonogall was the person who wrote Harmony her letter, that had started all of this.

As Professor McGonogall shook Harmony's hand, Hagrid said "And this is Harmony Potter, she's Harry, James and Lily's kid. And – she's a girl. Now. Ah. Well, I'll leave you two to it."

Harmony smiled at Hagrid, who walked away to the bar.

McGonogall sat down across the table from Harmony, who pushed her dinner slightly to the side.

"Pleased to meet you – Miss? Potter," said McGonogall, who spoke with a distinctive Scottish accent.

"You as well, Professor," said Harmony quietly, still working on managing her breathing.

"I'll have a few questions about the 'Miss' part in a moment. But first, Hagrid has told me that you do not wish to return to your adoptive family, the Dursleys?"

Harmony nodded, unable to get a word out. So much rode on this conversation.

McGonogall crossed her arms and sighed.

"And you've alleged rather severe mistreatment at the hands of the Dursleys, which would impel this separation? I'd like to hear it directly from you."

Harmony felt intimidated by the strict-looking witch. When Harmony was talking with Hagrid, it had been so much easier to describe everything. She took a deep breath, than began.

"Well, to start with, there's my cupboard. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia make me sleep in this little room under the stairs, it's so small that I can't even stand up in it, I haven't been able to in years. And it's all dusty and I get woken up whenever they go downstairs in the morning."

McGonogall's eyebrows rose, but her face was otherwise still, not showing much emotion. Did McGonogall not believe her? Harmony took another deep breath, then continued.

"And sometimes if Uncle Vernon was mad, like when I burnt the eggs for his breakfast, he'd send me to my cupboard with no meals and lock me in, and I wouldn't be able to eat for days. That was until I learned to pick the lock on the cupboard and sneak out at night."

McGonogall seemed to be breathing very carefully, almost like Harmony was earlier. It was getting easier for Harmony to continue, now.

"And sometimes my uncle would – hit me. My uncle slapped me across the face, here," she pointed at the outline, which she could still feel if she concentrated. "That was when I almost managed to read one of the letters you sent me, a couple of days ago. And my cousin Dudley, he'd punch me, beat me up, and Uncle Vernon would cheer him on. He punched me in the stomach really hard earlier this week and I still have the bruise, I can show you if you like."

McGonogall had raised one hand to her mouth and seemed to be shaking slightly, and her eyes were starting to mist up.

"That's fine, my dear, you've described plenty," she said, reaching forward and gently holding Harmony's hand. "I am most sorry for the dreadful treatment you've suffered. You don't deserve such awful things, and I am going to help you."

Harmony looked into McGonogall's stern face and saw it soften a bit. She nodded, starting to relax.

"I'd like to use this magical instrument to document your mistreatment. Would that be alright, Miss Potter?", asked McGonogall, holding up a strange silvery sphere with little silver threads hanging off of it.

Harmony nodded, curious. McGonogall stood and slowly moved the silvery sphere around Harmony's head. At times, white smoke seemed to move between the instrument and her head, and the silvery threads would stand straight out from the sphere. After completing the slow circuit, McGonogall sat back down.

McGonogall tapped the sphere with her wand, and a small black-and-white image of Uncle Vernon appeared above the sphere. He was screaming, but there was no sound. He looked so small and faraway, and it made Harmony feel a bit safer. McGonogall tapped the sphere a couple more times, and more little images displayed, of Harmony's cupboard, of Dudley, and more images too brief for Harmony to recognize. McGonogall tapped the sphere a final time, and the image vanished.

"Thank you, my dear," said McGonogall.

Harmony nodded again, a bit more assertively. McGonogall looked like she was thinking carefully.

"The Ministry of Magic has empowered Hogwarts to support and care for students whose parents or guardians have severely mistreated them, as the Dursleys have severely mistreated you," said McGonogall. It such was a relief to hear McGonogall's formal, official voice make this declaration.

"In my role as Deputy Headmistress, I have been delegated the authority to make such determinations. Now, most of the students who we support in this fashion are active students, who have already enrolled at Hogwarts." Harmony froze. Was McGonogall going to say there was nothing she could do until September?

"However, technically, our authority extends to all students who have been accepted to Hogwarts and who have chosen to attend. Do you plan to attend Hogwarts?", McGonogall asked.

"Yes, yes I do," answered Harmony quickly.

McGonogall nodded gravely. "Then, I hereby declare that your former guardians, Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley, no longer have any legal authority over you, due to their severe mistreatment of you."

As she spoke, a warm pink light emanated from McGonogall's wand, enveloping both Harmony and herself. At a gesture, the pink light concentrated around the silvery sphere which she had placed on the table, then sucked down into the sphere like water flowing into a drain.

Harmony released a breath she didn't know she was holding, sagging down into her chair. She started to cry, heavy warm tears flowing fast down her face. She and McGonogall sat quietly, holding hands across the table, letting the tears flow. Eventually Harmony felt more at peace, and dried her cheeks on her sleeve.

"At the beginning of the Hogwarts term, I will arrange a meeting between you, me, and Headmaster Dumbledore. He originally placed you with the Dursleys, after your parents died, for what reason I cannot imagine," said McGonogall, still holding Harmony's hand comfortingly.

Harmony nodded, with a mix of anger and dread.

"Between now and then, I suggest you remain here, in the Leaky Cauldron and in Diagon Alley. Hogwarts has closed down for the summer, so we cannot reasonably accommodate you there," said McGonogall.

"Oh, actually, staying here is what I was thinking of. I've got enough money for a room for the next month –"

"That won't be necessary, Miss Potter. Hogwarts has a fund for supporting emancipated students such as yourself. We'll take care of your housing and meals until term begins."

Harmony recognized emancipated – she'd seen it in a dictionary in the library once. It meant she was really, legally free.

"Thank you, Professor McGonogall. Thank you," she said, her voice cracking and her eyes misting up again.

They sat quietly a bit longer, McGonogall still holding Harmony's hand.

"I will personally visit the Dursleys this evening and explain the situation to them. I will handle all interactions with them from now on, you won't have to see them again."

"Thank you!", said Harmony brightly. She smiled, and McGonogall smiled back at her.

"Now, before I go, there is one other thing I must ask – and I want you to know, this question is unrelated to our previous discussion. I must ask, are you a girl?"

"Yes, yes I am," said Harmony. This conversation. Well, it was lower stakes than the previous conversation, that was certain.

"The reason I ask is that I knew your parents. They were in my house at Hogwarts, I knew them quite well. I met you when you were very young. You – you were a boy, then," said McGonogall, her face neutral once more.

Harmony took a deep breath. "Everyone told me I was a boy. But I'm not, I don't want to be. I'm a girl. Being a girl, the name, the appearance, I feel true. I feel like I'm being myself. Like I'm not hiding anymore."

"Hmmm. Is this a nonmagical tradition, to – change, in this way?"

"I don't know anyone else like me. I think there might be other people like me, though, a friend of mine at school said that maybe people like me are called 'trans'?", said Harmony, uncertain.

"Ah yes, from the Latin trans," said McGonogall, saying the word in her nose, like a French person, "meaning on the other side of. Yes, that makes sense."

"Well, Harmony, you may find most witches and wizards to be as unfamiliar with the concept of – being trans, as you put it – as I am. However, you are free to dress in the robes of your choice and use the name of your choce at Hogwarts, though your official documents will reflect your legal name."

"Thank you, Professor," Harmony said politely, "and it's not a problem to call me Harry, I've decided that it's short for Harmony. But I like Harmony best."

McGonogall nodded, again with a hint of softness.

"Now, before I go, do you have any questions for me?", she said.

Harmony thought it over carefully. "Is it Ok if I talk with my friends from school, to let them know what's going on? Or if they come to London to visit me?"

McGonogall smiled slightly. "I'm glad you have friends you'd like to talk with. Well, let's see. You are not allowed to tell nonmagical people about magic, not without a lengthy approval process. However, you may certainly tell them that you are not living with the Dursleys any longer, and that you will be going to a different school. The magical and nonmagical postal systems are interconnected, so you will be able to stay in touch with your friends, both here and at Hogwarts."

Harmony nodded, smiling.

"As for your friends visiting you here in London, I will require that you be accompanied by an adult when you do so – perhaps one of your friends' parents or guardians. Please do not leave London, however. Oh, and I believe the Cauldron maintains a device known as a 'telephone' which is used in nonmagical communications, though I do not know the details."

Harmony nodded again. "That all sounds wonderful, thank you."

"Do you have any other questions?"

Harmony paused for a long couple of seconds. "Is that it? Am I really free?", she asked at last.

"Well. In the eyes of the magical world, once I deposit this device at the Ministry and register my judgment, you will no longer be under the guardianship of the Dursley family."

Harmony noted the caveat. "And in the eyes of the nonmagical world?"

"When I visit the Dursleys later today and explain the situation, I will make it clear that they should not attempt to contact the nonmagical authorities. We have means of keeping the two worlds separate."

Harmony was flooded with another wave of relief. "Thank you, Professor, thank you for everything."

"You're very welcome, Miss Potter," said McGonogall, rising from her chair and releasing Harmony's hand.

Harmony stood to follow her.

McGonogall turned to the bartender. "Tom, I'd like to set up a long-stay room for Miss Potter here, from now until September first, and to cover all of her meals until then as well. Oh and please track it separately from the main Hogwarts tab, if you would be so kind."

Tom nodded and bowed, and turned to usher McGonogall towards the back room that she had emerged from.

"Thank you for everything, Professor," Harmony said, waving farewell to McGonogall. "I'm so happy to help," said McGonogall. "If you need to get in touch, just send an owl or talk to Tom," she said. Tom smiled and bowed slightly, then they both walked towards the back room.

Hagrid stood up from the bar, downing the rest of his tankard.

"Well, I should be off, Harmony," he said. Harmony gazed up at his smiling face, and hugged him, her arms wide across his middle. He patted her on the back, gently.

"I'll see you right when you get to Hogwarts, if not sooner", he said, smiling again. With a wave, he walked out through the back door that led to Diagon Alley.

Harmony sat down to finish the last of her bangers and mash, never one to waste a meal. She brought her plate over to the bar just as Tom returned after another flash of green light.

"Ah, Miss Harry Potter, here's your key. The long-stay rooms are towards the top of the house, you're on the eighth floor, right hand side, here's your key," Tom said, bowing slightly again. "Oh and don't try the windows, they're not well-connected to the outside, I wouldn't risk it."

Harmony was deeply curious, but she wasn't about to try anything risky when it came to magic. She thanked Tom, and started carrying all of her newfound belongings up the narrow stairs.

Round and round and round she went, her heart light and joyful. She was free, she was safe, and she had her very own room to sleep in. Though her birthday had its frightening moments, all of her wishes had come true.

Chapter Text

After climbing the eighth and final flight of stairs, Harmony finally reached her room, and set down all of her new purchases. It looked much like the room she'd shared with Hagrid yesterday: a clean, simple room, wood floors and walls, a nice wooden desk and chair, a picture window that looked out on the London street below, and her very own fluffy bed.

As she set down her beautiful snowy owl on the desk, the owl hooted softly, coming awake. Harmony fished out some owl food she'd gotten at Eeyops and carefully fed the owl, who ate respectfully from Harmony's hand. She would need to name the owl, and let her go flying and hunt for herself. But that could all wait for tomorrow. Harmony went directly to bed, all her energy gone. She dreamed of a green flash, Dursleys, and a ride across the sea under a pinkly glowing umbrella.

The next morning, she awoke to find her room warmly-lit by sunlight which streamed in the window. Her owl hooted, staring at the window.

"Tom said I shouldn't open windows above the sixth floor, something about the magic getting old. But I'll take you down with me and let you out lower down, how does that sound?"

The owl nodded, letting out a soft hoot. Did she understand English, Harmony wondered.

Harmony changed into a fresh set of robes and walked downstairs, letting the owl out at the sixth floor, and leaving the window open a bit so she could get back in when she wanted to.

It was amazing just eating breakfast without having to cook for the Dursleys, or even be around the Dursleys. Afterwards, Tom showed Harmony to the Cauldron's backroom.

It was a cramped room, even more cramped than the Cauldron's main taproom. The room had a couple of old, rickety chairs, an old rotary telephone, and a blazing fire in the fireplace, despite the fact that it was the middle of summer. Harmony doffed her outer robe, and the heat was just about bearable. The telephone was the really old kind, with a separate piece you talked into and piece the sound came out of. But it did seem well-taken-care-of, it wasn't gathering dust or anything.

Harmony carefully dialed in the number to Carrie's house, which she'd memorized. She pulled each number back and let it spring forward again. She'd seen Mrs. Figg, her occasional sitter, use a rotary phone before. After listening to the dial tone for a few seconds, she heard a familiar voice on the line.

"Hello, Foster residence, nice to talk to you!", Carrie said. It was wonderful to hear her warm, soft voice again, after all that had happened.

"Hi Carrie, it's Harmony," she said, try to think of where to even begin.

"Harmony! I'm so glad you're calling! Uh, how are you calling? Did they leave you home on your own?", Carrie asked.

"Um, no, actually, I escaped from them, I guess," Harmony said. It all still didn't seem quite real. "I had some help from a friend named Hagrid."

"Congratulations! I'm so glad you've made it out!", said Carrie.

"Thanks," Harmony said, feeling a bit more certain. "Yeah, so now I'm staying in London, I'm going off to a different school next term. Oh and I'm going to tell everyone at the new school that I'm a girl."

"Oh, wow, hope that goes well! Um, well, well I'm glad you've escaped," said Carrie.

"But you're sad we won't see each other as much, I get it," said Harmony. "But I was thinking maybe we could meet up in London? Maybe on Saturday?"

"Ooh, that'd be wonderful! Oh, maybe we could go thrift shopping? I love finding little things, and I bet you don't have many of your own things with how they treated you," said Carrie. Carrie was always thinking ahead, she was a great friend.

"I'd love to!"

Harmony and Carrie arranged the time and the place – 1pm on Saturday, meeting on the corner at the end of the block – and Carrie's mom Jeannie agreed to chaperon. Jeannie was really sweet – she often sent Carrie to school with extra snacks to share with Harmony, who she knew was underfed. As Harmony finished her call with Carrie, she couldn't stop smiling. She'd get to see her friend outside of school, for the first time ever!

Next, Harmony called Anna, whose number she'd also memorized. This time, talking was easier.

"Hi Anna! It's Harmony!"

"Hi Harmony! Did your aunt doze off again?"

A few times, Harmony had managed to sneak a phone call to Anna at such a moment.

"No, actually I managed to escape."

"Woah, congratulations! I'm so proud of you! Did you sneak out in the middle of the night or something? Were they extra awful this time?"

Harmony thought back to the great BOOM when Dudley's watch hit midnight, just a couple days ago.

"Something like that, yeah. And yes, I'm still red across the face where my uncle hit me, and my stomach still hurts from Dudley punching me."

"Those rat bastards! Why, I'd like to, to, to scatter bent, rusty nails all over their front step and give them all tetanus."

Harmony smiled. "I love your ideas, Anna. But things are actually looking good right now. The Dursleys are out of the picture."

"Ok, fine. But if you're free does that mean we can meet up?"

"Yep, I was setting something up with Carrie and I was calling to invite you. I'm not going anywhere near Little Whinging, so how about we meet up in London, Saturday at 1? Jeannie's driving Carrie, I'm sure she'd be happy to bring you over too."

"Great, I'm looking forward to it! Can't wait to see you! I'll call Carrie next to work out all the details. See you soon!"

Harmony could hear her smile through the phone.

Once the call with Anna was wrapped up, Harmony headed off for Diagon Alley. In the Cauldron's back garden, she carefully counted the bricks and tapped the correct one with her wand. And magically, the brick opened, then the bricks around it, and around them, until the full entrance arch was formed. She'd done magic!

Though the sights of the Alley were still amazing, Harmony couldn't help but be struck by how old everything was. The telephone she'd just used in the Cauldron had looked to be about a hundred years old, yet compared to the rest of the Alley it was positively futuristic.

Harmony soon came to her destination: Flourish and Blotts, as ever filled to the brim with massive, creaky bookshelves. As she entered, Madam Villanelle was just wrapping up with another customer, a teenager who looked to be buying his school books. When they finished, Harmony made her way over to the front desk.

"Ah, Miss Harmony Potter, pleasure to see you again so soon!"

"Hello, Madam Villanelle. I wanted to take you up on your offer to hold an autograph event," Harmony said, having made up her mind. Everyone had so many theories about her, it was time for her to tell her own stories.

Madam Villanelle smiled. "Wonderful, my dear, I'm looking forward to it. Oh, and call me Villa, my full name is rather unwieldy. When would you be in town for the event?"

"I'm actually staying nearby, so I'll often be around. How would Sunday work?"

"That sounds excellent, a good day for a good-sized audience. Perhaps in the early afternoon?"

"Perfect!", said Harmony enthusiastically.

"Sounds good. I'll advertise the event, but nothing too over-the-top."

"Is there anything I should do to prepare?"

"Well, let me see," said Villa, leaning back and holding her chin thoughtfully. "You certainly look the part already, those robes fit you well." Harmony smiled at the compliment.

"I'd advise you to think about how you'll answer certain questions," said Villa. "People who attend these events often ask lots of questions, and it's good to have a sense of how much or how little you'd like to say. That way, you'll be less taken by surprise."

"Thanks for the advice," said Harmony, pulling from her robes a quill with some parchment wrapped around it. "Any questions in particular that you think I should be prepared for?"

"Hmmm. Well, I have a few guesses," said Villa.

Topics to prepare for:

• The day Voldemort was vanquished
• Whether Voldemort is gone forever
• Being raised in the nonmagical world
• Being a girl

"I'll plan to keep the focus on Voldemort's defeat, rather than on what happened to my – my parents," said Harmony, choking up a bit. Villa jumped a bit at the sound of the name Voldemort.

"Well, I'd be happy to help steer questions with you, and I'll give you access to the backrooms in case you need to step away for a bit, or just stop altogether," said Villa gently. "And you're certainly going be a memorable speaker if you keep using that name."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," said Harmony, with a fierce smile. She wasn't ever going to give Voldemort the respect of dreading his name.

"Well, that all sounds wonderful. Looking forward to the event, and please let me know if you have any questions or if anything changes. Oh, and feel free to look around the store. You can read here for as long as you like, and if you find some books you're interested in, I'll put them on hold for you, and you can have them after the event."

Harmony smiled and started to explore. The bookstore reminded her fondly of her school library. Flourish and Blotts was smaller, but the books were packed in so densely, and there was so much more variety. The library had always been one of Harmony's favorite places to go after her last class and before the school closed down, for the peace and quiet as much as for the books.

Exploring the store, Harmony came across Hogwarts: A History, a thick book bound between wooden covers. It was written by Bathilda Bagshot, the same author who wrote Harmony's schoolbook on magical history. The book was filled with hundreds of years of fun little anecdotes about the school she'd be attending, so it was an easy pick.

In another area of the store entirely, Harmony came across An Intuitor's Guide to Intuitive Magic, a cute little book with cute little text that came with a cute little magnifying stone, a clear crystal rounded on both sides to magnify the text. Harmony had quickly realized that her schoolbooks focused intently on standardized magic: Standardized spells with standardized effects, cast using standardized movements. But she'd seen magic that wasn't so standardized, like Hagrid's pinkly glowing umbrella. According to the Intuitor's Guide, as one became very familiar with a spell, it was possible to feel out variations in the magic, giving rise to different possibilities for using the same core idea. It wasn't often taught in formal education, but experienced wixes often reinvented the technique and taught it to friends. Wix was the inclusive term for witches and wizards and other magical people, according to the book. Harmony firmly added the Intuitor's Guide to her pile.

Finally, in the Arts and Crafts section of the bookstore, Harmony found The Magic of Knitting, a cloth-bound book full of lovely knitting patterns with interesting magical interactions. Apparently, different weaves were conducive to different magical effects, sustaining or strengthening different types of spells. The book also detailed all sorts of knitting-related spells, to make knitting easier or faster or more pleasant. One of the easiest spells in the book was a spell to unravel a garment, which gave her an idea for what to look for on her upcoming thrift-shopping trip.

Harmony put those three books on hold with Villa, then set out to explore the Alley once more. She wandered up and down the Alley, checking out all of the tiny little stores that she'd missed on her first few trips through the Alley. There was a shop that specialized in repairing magical furniture, and another with lovely wooden trunks. Another area of the Alley focused on food – Harmony found the shop where Hagrid had bought ice-creams for the two of them, as well as a number of cozy little lunch places, with people eating and talking out front.

There were all sorts of people: A group of teenagers dressed neck-to-toe in rainbows, an elderly woman wearing a vulture for a hat, and four wizards playing some sort of highly energetic board game involving lots of fast movements and explosions. She heard conversation in a wide variety of languages, most of which she didn't recognize.

As Harmony turned the corner at the edge of the eating area, she spotted a Gringotts goblin who was eating a sandwich. This was the first goblin she'd seen outside of Gringotts, so he caught her attention. And apparently, she caught his, because he looked up, rapidly wiped off his hands, and made his way over to her.

The goblin was wearing a thick woolen robe, a blend of a dark browns, purples, blues, and reds. It was covered in intricate little pieces of sculpted metal, each one a tiny artistic wonder. There were intricate geometric spirals, and pieces that gave impressions of a multitude of different animals, and far too many beautiful things for Harmony to take in all at once.

The goblin with the wonderful robe bowed upon reaching Harmony. He looked to be on the younger side, though Harmony couldn't really tell. She bowed back, uncertain of the custom.

"Hello, Harmony Potter," he said.

"Um, hi, who might you be? And how did you know my name?", she said. Most magical people who recognized her just called her Harry.

"My name is Hhoran," he said, pronouncing the H at the beginning strangely. "And you are wearing a nametag, right there."

She glanced down. Right, she'd forgotten that she'd written that. No one seemed to read it, not until Hhoran.

"Horan? Am I pronouncing that right?", she asked.

"The first sound is a doubled h, it is produced in the same place in your mouth as a g, but with the mouth slightly more open."

"Hhoran," she tried again.

Hhoran nodded, smiling.

"So, what did you want to talk about?", asked Harmony.

Hhoran gestured towards a nearby table, and the two of them sat down.

"You were the talk of Gringotts, after your visit yesterday."

"Why are you so interested in me?", Harmony asked. Was this another "Vanquished Voldemort" situation?

"What do you know about Goblin-human relations, Harmony Potter?", Hhoran replied, evading the question.

"Nothing at all, I'm afraid," she said. To be fair, she'd only met her first goblins yesterday.

"That is perhaps better than the alternative. Relations are strained, to say the least. Many Goblin customs and many human customs are incompatible. Goblins believe that to create something is to own it, and that others can only ever borrow that creation. A creator's works pass to their heirs, in due time. Humans believe that the creator has no special connection to the craft, and that to possess is to own. This has lead to much friction between our groups."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Does that mean you created all of the little sculptures on your robe? And what do you mean by friction?"

"I did create most of these artworks. It is a hobby of mine, as well as a family tradition. A few of them are inherited," he said, pointing at a little storm cloud with lightning coming down, "and a few are borrowed from friends, to be returned at an agreed date. And I created the robe itself, from shearing to dyeing to felting to stitching."

Harmony smiled widely. This was what she was hoping to do with her knitting, once she was good at it.

"And by friction, I mean that the human authorities have banned goblins from most major institutions of learning, including Hogwarts, and from access to most magical tools, such as wands. Goblins are also banned from living and working in most human-inhabited areas, with rare exceptions such as Gringotts, which exist for historical reasons. And there have been many wars between our two peoples over the centuries. If you wish to learn of the history, I would recommend the book Humans and Goblins: Demystifying Centuries of Conflict, which was written by a joint human-Goblin research team. I believe Flourish and Blotts carries it."

"This is all very interesting, but why are you telling me all of this?"

Hhoran fixed her with a pointed look. "Most magical humans grow up with their minds dead-set against goblins, from childhood stories to historical education to inheriting the disagreements of generations gone by. They named our language 'Gobbledegook', synonymous with a child's word for incomprehensible nonsense."

That sounded like things had gotten very bad. "What is your language actually called? Like, what do you call it?", Harmony asked.

"Our primary language is called Hhobelrde, which translates roughly to 'the common tongue'," Hhoran said, making a 'lr' sound Harmony had never heard before.

"Glad to know," said Harmony. "But again, what do I have to do with any of this?"

"A few magical humans, like yourself, grow up in the nonmagical world, away from all of the stories of evil goblins, until you reach school. But most magical humans who grow up nonmagical have no sway, no ability to convince other humans, at least not until they have sat through school and heard all the stories about violent goblins and their violent wars. You are special, Harmony Potter. You are the Girl who Lived. When you talk, people will listen."

Did she really have that kind of influence? Well, everyone constantly seemed to want to shake her hand. Also, in not too long she was going to have a word with the wizard who the Minister of Magic apparently wrote to every day for advice. So it wasn't out of the question.

"I'll try my best – to talk, and have people listen. I don't want people, humans and goblins, to be on the outs like this."

Hhoran smiled. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear a human call goblins 'people'. You probably don't realize it, but it's a very encouraging sign. That being said, you should do your own research, come to your own conclusions, and speak with your own voice. Don't just repeat what I've told you unthinkingly. When you learn for yourself, your words will ring true."

Harmony nodded. It was good advice, and it showed that Hhoran wasn't scared of what she'd find.

"Oh, and feel free to write me," he said, quickly writing down his address on a scrap of parchment. Harmony took the slip gratefully. As she did so, Hhoran stood.

"Well, I should be getting back to my job, my lunch break is ending."

"It was lovely to meet you, Hhoran."

"You as well, Harmony Potter. I hope we shall stay in touch."

Harmony smiled as Hhoran left, but her expression soon changed to concentration. It was a lot of pressure, the mission that Hhoran had laid in front of her. But all he wanted her to do was to research and to talk. She wasn't expected to do anything more than that. Still, between coming out as trans to everyone and looking into the state of goblin-human relations, she had a lot on her plate. But before any of that, she had a book to add to her reservation at Flourish and Blotts.

That evening, after another lovely dinner in the Leaky Cauldron, Harmony went up to her eighth-floor room. On the way up, she met her owl, who flew in the sixth-floor window that Harmony had left cracked open. Harmony stroked her gently, as she nibbled on what remained of a little rat she'd caught. Harmony had decided to name her owl "Hedwig", after a long-ago Hogwarts student she'd read about in Hogwarts, A History, who'd set a record for receiving house points from the most different professors in a single day. House points were an odd, old Hogwarts tradition: They tracked which houses' students were behaving well or poorly, culminating in the House Cup at the end of the year.

Reaching her room, Harmony set Hedwig down on a little perch she'd set up at the end of her desk, petting her as she pulled out some of her schoolbooks. Now that she wasn't feeling so exhausted, it was time to start learning some magic.

She started with Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. As she opened to the first page, she immediately saw a warning printed all in red: To all new witches and wizards: Only use magic in magical locations, or in places where your parents or guardians say it's allowed. You're not allowed to do magic around Muggles. Harmony frowned a bit at the casual use of "Muggle", but she appreciated the warning. Honestly, they probably should've told her that when she bought her wand.

After skimming through the book a bit, she decided to start by attempting the Feather-Light Charm, whose incantation was Wingardium Leviosa. It was harder than it looked. She poured in attempt after attempt, over the better part of an hour. Eventually, she managed to make a quill almost weightless, at which point it floated across her bed and fell off the side. Still, it was progress.

Next, she tried Lumos, the light spell. After a multitude of attempts, she produced a brief dot of light, a bit like a glow-worm.

She was quickly getting exhausted, even though it hadn't been that long. Her muscles weren't sore, and she wasn't sleepy – maybe she was getting magically exhausted?

Instead, she switched to just reading. She started reading her transfiguration textbook. It was very sciency, all about different ways to think about materials, objects, and the transformations between them. It reminded her of her classes in school. Flipping through her textbooks, it didn't look like Hogwarts taught most of the classes she'd enjoyed in school: maths, any of the sciences, writing, or nonmagical history.

She'd just have to keep leaning by herself. Maybe she could find some nonmagical schoolbooks at the thrift store on Saturday. She always loved reading, because a well-written book was so fascinating. The world was so much richer when you learned about all the things people'd discovered.

Harmony was looking forward to Saturday: To her friends, and to her independence.

Chapter Text

Harmony had settled into a bit of a pattern. She'd wake up, feed and pet Hedwig, and let her out to go flying. Then she'd have breakfast, and walk along Diagon Alley. She'd meet a couple of new people out and about. Then, later in the day, she'd read some of her books, practice some spells, and go to bed. She felt like a witch. Like her own person.

Saturday was a little different. She wasn't meeting with her friends until the afternoon, but it was all she could think about all day. When the time came, she headed out the nonmagical side of the Leaky Cauldron, and went to the street corner that where she'd agreed to meet Anna and Carrie.

Despite the time of year, the day way overcast and grey, and a huge number of strangers walked up and down the street, not giving Harmony any mind. It was nice, peaceful. More peaceful than the bustle of Diagon Alley, and far, far better than the Dursleys. She leaned back on the bench, swung her legs, and enjoyed the simplicity of it all.

Soon enough, Harmony caught sight of Jeannie's car, a boxy gray car that had often picked up Carrie from their school. Harmony stood to smile and wave, and Jeannie pulled up along side.

"Why don't you two get out and wait with Harmony, and I'll find somewhere to park, alright?", said Jeannie. The whole area was parked up, so it might take her a few minutes.

Anna and Carrie hopped out of the car and ran over to hug Harmony. They shared a tight group hug. "It's so good to see you again!" flew in all directions.

Soon, they joined Harmony on her bench. Anna put her arm around Harmony's shoulders, while Carrie leaned up against her other side.

"So, you're really free?", asked Carrie in amazement.

"Yeah, I can hardly believe it myself," said Harmony.

There was an unspoken agreement not to pry into the details. Carrie was always sensitive to not push into topics that Harmony wasn't comfortable talking about, and Anna seemed to be joining her.

"So, you're going to a new school?", asked Anna. "Carrie told me on the way over."

"Yep, away from them," said Harmony, speaking carefully.

"What's it going to be like?", asked Anna, enthusiastic as always.

"Well, it's a boarding school, up north in Scotland. It's next to a lake, I think it'll be a nice place," said Harmony, repeating what she'd heard from people in Diagon Alley.

Harmony was filled with nerves. What was Hogwarts going to be like? Would everyone treat her like a celebrity and be awkward around her? Were they going to accept that she was a girl? Would she make friends there?

"I'm going to miss you," said Anna.

"Me also," said Carrie.

"I'll miss you two as well," said Harmony, tearing up a bit.

They all held each other for a while, Harmony rocking back and forth slightly. She could hear her heart in her ears, feel her friends close on either side.

"But we can stay in touch?", Harmony said, her voice still cracking a bit. "I can visit you over the holidays and we can send letters back and forth."

Carrie nodded, while Anna said "Letters? That's pretty old-fashioned, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's a bit of an old place, not many phones around," said Harmony. She shared Hogwarts' address with the two of them, and borrowed Carrie's pen to write down her friends' addresses, in case her memory failed her. She wasn't about to pull out a quill in the middle of London.

"And today's going to be nice!", added Anna, which cheered up Harmony. It would be nice: This would be the most uninterrupted time the three of them had ever spent together.

Jeannie walked up to their bench, and led the three of them to the thrift store. It was a big store, looking clean but unimposing. As they entered, Harmony was struck by just how much variety there was inside. Racks upon racks of clothes, in every style and color imaginable, big areas of furniture, walls of books, artwork stacked all around. It was organized, but only barely under control.

And the people! There were people with big hairdos, people wearing ripped jeans or chains from their belts, and people of every age from kids to older adults.

It was exactly the sort of place Aunt Petunia would've hated. Harmony loved it.

Harmony wanted to try on everything, she'd never had so many options. T-shirts and blouses and camisoles, shorts and jeans and pants and skirts, dresses and jumpers and jackets.

The three of them quickly found the kids' clothing section, and all three of them started pulling everything that Harmony might plausibly like off the rack. The store had plenty of changing rooms, so they decided that Harmony should just try on lots of options and see what worked.

As she tried on different options, she'd step out of the changing room and go over it with Anna and Carrie. It helped her build confidence that something actually fit well or looked good, or discard options that didn't work out.

Harmony's first big discovery was that girl's clothes were supposed to fit a lot closer on her than she'd realized. She'd known that Dudley's clothes were absurdly baggy on her, and she'd tried to tie off the excess material, but it was also that boys' clothes were just baggy by default.

Her next discovery was that her size was actually a girls 8-10, not a 10-12 like she'd guessed. She was small for her age, 4' 4" (132cm) according to the markings on the wall, and she was on the skinny side as well. How would that change as she started eating better? She didn't really want to be big and bulky like Dudley or most of his friends.

Harmony quickly accumulated a wide variety of clothes that she just loved: A pink blouse with an embroidered rose on the chest, a cute sundress in yellow and green, a couple of nicely-fitting pairs of jeans, a fluffy jumper whose color transitioned from red through violet to blue, a flower-patterned swirly skirt, and many more. Anna and Carrie congratulated Harmony on every find, making her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

It was a bit nerve-wracking to look so feminine in public, but with Anna and Carrie there to cheer her on, she could handle it. It helped that no one in the store seemed to take any special notice of her, which helped her nerves.

The store didn't have a ton of options in Harmony's specific size range, and it felt like she was going to end up buying about half of what the store had to offer. Fortunately, with the shop's very low prices and the exchange rate of Galleons to pounds, she could afford it. And she needed it all: She literally had no clothes besides the robes she'd purchased at Madam Malkin's a few days ago.

Harmony also found a couple of huge adult-sized knitted jumpers which were basically falling apart, one pink and purple, one red and green. She planned to unravel them into yarn, it was much cheaper than buying new yarn.

Harmony wasn't the only one finding neat things: Anna found a nice jean jacket with cool patches on it, while Carrie found a fun violet blouse with bug swoopy arms. Harmony made sure to tell each of them just how good they looked.

With clothes taken care of, Harmony next went looking for a few accessories. Carrie helped her look through the winter section, where they found a soft, fuzzy, rainbow-colored scarf. Anna found a pack of hair-ties in all sorts of different colors, which Harmony gladly accepted with a fond smile, thinking back to that day in school when she first started exploring.

Harmony now went over to the section with all of the books. This thrift store was certainly no Flourish and Blotts. The books were much more ordinary, more neat and staid. But still, they covered lots of topics that didn't seem to be discussed much in the magical world, like much of what her old school used to teach.

"What sorts of books are you looking for?", asked Carrie, walking up next to Harmony.

How could she explain? She couldn't tell them that Hogwarts didn't even teach these subjects, and she wanted to learn them on her own. She'd have to navigate carefully, and it hurt her to have to keep so much from her friends.

"I'm looking for fun books on school topics, like maths and physics and so forth," Harmony said, carefully steering around the tricky topic, "Not the boring textbook kind, but the kind that's actually enjoyable."

While Carrie and Anna weren't nearly as excited to read as Harmony, they were happy to help her search. She wanted books written by someone who was excited to talk about those subjects. If she was going to learn on her own, she'd need that enthusiasm.

Together, they found nice books on maths, physics, chemistry, and biology, and a couple books on history. She didn't want to learn all about magic and nothing about the rest of the world. She made sure to find another one about how to write, as she'd overheard an upper-year student in the Diagon Alley stationery shop talking about how many essays they were always writing. Finally, she went looking for a book that might talk about trans people. The only one she found was a very dry tome called "Nonnormative genders and sexualities," but it had a lot of pictures of cool looking people, so that helped.

With the informational books out of the way, Anna helped Harmony find a couple of novels, for when she wanted to relax. Harmony's favorite was science fiction: She always loved seeing how people imagined the future. Among their finds was a book called The Left Hand of Darkness, and flipping through it revealed that someone had changed half of the 'he's in the book into 'she's, so that looked interesting.

Harmony carried all of her finds to the register, where they filled up a couple of large shopping bags. She could just about carry it all, though it was definitely tricky. The only things she still wanted to find in the nonmagical world were hair care products. Fortunately, there was a pharmacy next door.

On the advice of the other three, Harmony picked up a bottle each of shampoo and conditioner, as well as a hairbrush designed for curly hair like hers, and a spray bottle to wet her hair and make it easier to brush. Aunt Petunia had always tried to comb her hair, trying to treat it like Aunt Petunia's straighter hair, which led to the comb snapping off in Harmony's hair as often as not. Now, she'd take proper care of it, and she planned to grow it out longer.

It had gotten late into the afternoon, and as they left the pharmacy Jeannie suggested they wrap up for the day. They all made plans to meet again the next weekend, and each weekend until school began. There were hugs all around, and as Harmony went back to the Cauldron, she couldn't stop beaming. She had the best friends in the world.

Chapter Text

Harmony made sure to get to Flourish and Blotts early for her event. The wonders of Diagon Alley still made her smile, but they didn't bowl her over anymore. On her way into the store, she saw the banner out front: Meet the Girl Who Lived.It was easy to overlook amid the chaos of the Alley. She nodded to herself, ready for what lay ahead.

Inside, there were a couple of people excited to shake her hand, as always. She'd gotten pretty used to it, as long as she didn't think about it too hard. It was just a fact that magical people wanted to shake her hand a lot, and she didn't feel like dwelling on why that was the case.

Because she was so early, she went over to the 'recent events' section and tried to skim through a couple of the so-called biographies that she'd be signing, even though they said very little about her, and mostly focused on Voldemort. After only a few moments, she had to stop. It was all too real, seeing what'd happened to her parents. But also, they didn't have a historical bent to them, going more for shock value. That was part of what she wanted to dispel in people's minds. She didn't want them to think of her as some wacky far-off concept. She was just herself, a person who'd been involved in a strange event a while back.

Before too long, Villa, the proprietor, came over to see her.

"Hello again, Harmony! Come right over here, I've got a spot set up for you," said Villa, ushering her to a table that faced a pathway where people would queue up.

"Now, here, you can use this quill to sign things," said Villa, handing Harmony a big fancy quill with a flouncy blue feather. Harmony had gotten pretty good at using magical quills – they moved quite similarly to pens, much to her surprise.

"Thanks, Villa! Is – Is there anything special about it?"

"There is indeed," said Villa, beaming. "This beauty is charmed to make sure your wrist won't hurt if you're writing for a long time. I only have the one, but don't worry about breaking it, with the amount of magic in this baby it's not going anywhere."

"Wow, thanks Villa!", said Harmony. Her favorite kind of magic was the kind that made everyday things a little nicer and easier.

"You're welcome, dear. Now, here's how it'll work: People will come in this way," Villa said, gesturing at the pathway through the omnipresent bookshelves. "Then they'll give you a book to sign, and ask you a couple questions. After that, or if they're being rude or taking too long, you look towards the next person and ask them to come forward. I'll be around, I'll step in if there are any problems, or just gesture for me or call for me if I'm not right there. Sound good?"

Harmony nodded, trepidation mixing with excitement. She had all of her answers to standard questions ready. Villa headed off to start sending people over, while Harmony gazed off towards the next wall of bookshelves ('alchemical rituals'). In almost no time at all, people started queueing up excitedly and handing her their books to sign.

The very first person in line was a young teenage boy, only a couple years older than Harmony. He had frizzy brown hair and was bouncing up and down on his toes. As her handed her his book, Everything We Know About the Girl who Lived, he excitedly asked "So is it really true that'd you'd never heard of magic growing up?". She wondered where he'd heard that – it probably wasn't in the books. But maybe people had seen her in nonmagical clothes on her first day in Diagon Alley.

Harmony flipped open to the cover page and started to sign. Harmony Potter, she began. "That's right, just heard about it all for the first time a week ago," she said. This boy didn't sound as mean as that one boy from Madam Malkin's, but the question was awfully reminiscent.

"Wow! That's so cool, I grew up nonmagical too!", he said, excited as ever.

Harmony looked up and smiled at him, catching his drift. "Yep, but there was so much that had to be magic in retrospect, like my hair would grow so fast when – when it wasn't how I liked it."

She finished the signature and handed the book back to him.

"Thanks, see you around!", he said, turning to go.

Harmony smiled as she turned to face the next person in line. She'd known there would be nice people attending.

An old grandmotherly witch approached the table, wearing an elaborate robe of blue and green, with yellow trim along the arms.

"Well, aren't you just the cutest thing," she said, handing Harmony her book. "My, my, just look at you!"

Harmony blushed a bit. She'd never had anyone dote over her like this, and it made her feel all fuzzy.

"Thank you, ma'am," she said politely.

"You're lovely young lady, and don't you let anyone tell you otherwise," the witch said, her tone turning more protective.

Harmony looked up as she finished signing, and smiled as she met the woman's crinkled, joyful expression.

"Thank you ma'am, that means a lot," she said genuinely.

After a couple more people came and went, a middle-aged wizard with receding brown hair approached the front. His eyebrows were arched and his face was tight, making him look very confused.

As he handed his book to her, he asked, "So your name is Harmony? I thought it was Harry?"

"Harry's short for Harmony, yep," she said, starting to sign, not too focused on the conversation.

"That's not what I meant, I mean, I thought you were a boy?", he asked. Harmony rapidly became much more alert, but she kept her eyes down on the signature for the time being.

"They guessed wrong when I was young, I'm a girl," she said, giving her pat response.

"But, don't – don't you have – down there –", he stammered. She cut him off as fast as possible. Why would someone ask something like that? It made her feel gross to even think about answering.

"Next in line!", she said, looking to the next person, and handing the man his book without looking. Villa, who was hovering nearby, quickly ushered the man away before he got anything else out.

A few people later, she got another unpleasant person, a stooped old man in ironed gray robes.

"Everything about you is a lie, the girl act, telling everyone you're a hero," he declared, spitting out every word. Harmony was immediately affronted, but before she could say anything, he followed it up with, "You're actually a Dark Lord just like him, that's how you bested him, I can always tell."

At that, Harmony couldn't even feel annoyed. The man was too silly. She laughed a bit, shook her head, and said "Was there a question there?", handing the book back to him.

Villa ushered him away as well, though Harmony could hear that he was still ranting as he left the store.

Harmony thought that would be the worst of it, but only a couple of people later, an older witch with her lips firmly pursed approached the front. She looked distinctly like Aunt Petunia, which was a really bad sign. And Villa wasn't immediately nearby, she was off towards the front of the store.

The witch thrust her book towards Harmony, who took it, hoping the woman wouldn't say much.

"What's a boy like you doing wearing a skirt and tights?", the older witch demanded.

Harmony leaned backwards, glaring up at the woman. "I'm a girl, I'm wearing girl's clothes," she said. It was another one of her preplanned answers, but she didn't like having to pull it out.

"It's some sort of sex thing, isn't it? I've seen perverts like you before," said the angry witch.

Harmony ears were filling with panic, the room feeling small and cramped with the words raining down from above. What? Sex? Sex was for adults, what was this mean lady going on about? Harmony tried to spot Villa, but she couldn't see her.

"I'm –– I'm eleven, I don't", she said, with a small voice, speaking on autopilot.

"You're doing it to sneak into the girl's dormitories, aren't you? Perverts like you shouldn't be allowed in public, much less at a decent school like Hogwarts!"

Harmony shrunk in her chair, sticking her fingers in her ears to block out the words. "Villa!", she shouted, distantly, closing her eyes. It felt like the Dursleys all over again.

At some later point in time, she heard a gentle knocking sound. She cracked one eye open, seeing Villa kneeling across the table from her, knocking on the table. She pulled her fingers out of her ears and uncurled a bit.

"–rmony? It's alright, I've gotten rid of that mean lady."

As Harmony tried to get her focus back, Villa continued. "She'll certainly never be allowed back in here, and I'll see if I can get her banned from most of the shops nearby, what an awful woman. I'm so sorry about that."

Harmony breathed a little more deeply and swallowed, nodding.

"How about you take a break in the back, alright? Or we can just end it now, that's fine by me," said Villa gently.

"Break sounds good," said Harmony quietly. Most of the people had been nice, and most of the event had been good. There were just some people like that mean lady.

Villa showed Harmony through a curtain to a cozy little room with a comfy chair that could lean back almost into a bed, and some water and cookies. Harmony smiled, leaning back a bit.

Relaxing felt good. The water helped, she'd been speaking for a long time. She dried off tears she didn't even know she'd cried, and smiled to herself. Everything was so different from the Dursleys. Instead of Petunia's screaming leading to Harmony getting locked in her cupboard, the screaming woman was kicked out and never allowed back. She could get used to this.

Several minutes later, Harmony was feeling calm, and even a little restless. She was ready to go out there and face people.

As she stepped out, Villa helped her get set up again, and let people over to her table once more. The first few interactions were perfectly nice, if rather bland.

But before too long, there was another angry looking person, a blond teenaged wizard, looking to be nearly an adult.

As he handed his book to Harmony, he was already going off. "You're no better than a Muggleborn, aren't you? I don't care what's in your blood, you're one of them."

Harmony shook her head, scribbling down a near-illegible signature.

"Nothing wrong with being nonmagical. Also, that wasn't a question," she said, handing the book back to him with a sarcastic smile. The magical insults never really bothered her, no matter how much anger someone tried to put into them. The blond wizard look baffled and stepped away.

A few more people later, Harmony was ready for anything.

"Aren't you really a boy?", asked a man with the hood of his robe pulled all the way over his face. "What's the point of all this?"

"I'm a girl. I'm telling people I'm a girl because I'm a girl. Enjoy your book. Next! Villa!", she said, all in one breath. She wasn't wasting her time with this man.

"I can tell you're –", he started as Villa took him by the elbow and led him away.

Why did people seem to love to tell her they could tell? It wasn't exactly a secret that people had mistaken her for a boy when she was younger.

After a couple more people, they were getting towards the end of the allotted time, and Villa stepped in.

"Just you two who are already in line, we're wrapping up, thanks everyone!"

A wizard wearing swirls of deep orange approached the front. He smiled as he handed her his book.

"Can't tell you how proud I am of you! Is You-Know-Who really dead?", the wizard said, the words tripping over each other on the way out of his mouth.

Harmony smiled. "I'm just glad to have been part of his downfall. I can't know if he's gone forever, they never found the body. But I'm glad he's gone for now." It was one of her premade responses, but one she was glad to give.

"Just a hero, well done, well done," he said, accepting his signed book.

The very last person in line approached the front, a tall, willowy girl looking to be about Harmony's age, with long straight hair that hung over half her face.

As she handed Harmony the last book, she quietly asked "Um, how did you know you were a girl?"

Harmony smiled, feeling comfortable with the shy girl. "I'd always felt awkward, not fitting in among the boys my age, unsettled around boy stuff. Then this mean bully at school tried to make fun of me by calling me a girl, and it didn't work at all."

There was no rush, as this was the very last signature.

"Then I tried exploring things with my friends and now I'm here! Oh, um, what's your name?", Harmony asked.

"I'm Sophie Roper, I'm – I'm starting Hogwarts next month as well." Sophie was still very shy, wrapping her arms around herself, "I can't believe you used to be awkward, you're so outgoing."

"Yeah, a lot's changed," Harmony said, leaning back and smiling a bit. "I'm looking forward to seeing you at Hogwarts!"

"Me too," said Sophie, turning for the exit.

With everything complete, Harmony stayed leaning back and breathed deeply, setting down the very fancy quill.

After wrapping things up, Villa came over.

"Well done, my dear! I hope that went well for you?", she said kneeling down by Harmony's table again.

Harmony was tired, but cheery. "Yeah, I think I did pretty well. I think people'll be talking more about the real me, now," she said.

Villa nodded, saying, "I think so as well. I'm very sorry about that one woman, I should have gotten rid of her faster."

"You did your best, it was quite nice overall. Um, I think I'm going to lie down for a bit," she said, feeling quite tired all of a sudden.

"Absolutely, take all the time you need," said Villa.

Harmony went back to the cozy room and leaned the chair all the way back. She didn't quite nod off, but it was nice to stop thinking for a bit.

After a while, she stretched, ate a few cookies, and came back out into the store. It had emptied out quite a bit, back to its usual numbers again.

"Hope you're doing better, Harmony?" asked Villa. Harmony nodded, much more relaxed.

"Oh, as a thank-you for the event, I have some things for you."

Harmony smiled, heading over to the front desk.

"Here are your books," she said, sliding over a sizeable stack. Harmony'd been adding to it on and off, and she hadn't realized quite how large it'd gotten. But Villa didn't seem to mind, so Harmony accepted the pile, wondering how she'd carry them all home.

"And, I have a special gift for you," Villa said, smiling. "Take a look at these!"

Villa pulled out a pair of heavily varnished wooden bookends, intricately carved with little passages in a language that Harmony didn't recognize. On one of the bookends was a big rotating handle, like the ones in cars that were used to roll the windows up and down.

"Are they –", she asked, hesitant, her eyes opened wide.

"They are indeed," said Villa, smiling. "They let you carry as many books as you like at once, let me show you how they work."

Villa lined up the books across the desk like they were on a bookshelf, and set the bookends on either side. Then, she cranked the handle, and the whole line of books started to squish inward. But they didn't look like they were bending, more like Harmony was seeing them from a weird angle and they were just looking smaller and smaller. By the time Villa was done, the whole stack was no wider than a single book.

Villa slid the stack over to Harmony, who picked it up easily, much to her surprise. Villa nodded, and Harmony careful tried unwinding the handle to open the stack up again. It moved smoothly, and soon enough she had all of her books spread out again.

"It doesn't hurt the books?", Harmony asked, filled with wonder.

"Nope! They won't even age or crinkle while they're compressed," said Villa. "Just so you know, only books can be squeezed this way. So you can't get your hair caught it or anything. If something's only kind of a book, it'll get harder to turn the handle, so you might want to leave out any pamphlets or anything."

Harmony smiled with delight, winding the stack back up again. "Thank you so much, Villa, this is really generous of you," she said, turning the handle back and forth in awe. This was a entirely different kind of magic, the kind they didn't sell in shops.

"My pleasure, dear. I had quite a few of these made a while back, more than I need for storage. I always like to make sure they go to people who will appreciate them."

Harmony smiled again, then put her stack of books – now quite light – into an inner pocket of her robes. "I'll see you around, Villa!", she said brightly.

"See you around, Harmony."

Chapter Text

Harmony decided to spend the rest of August in a much more relaxed and peaceful way. She explored the different shops on Diagon Alley, and she had her weekly visits with her friends around the nonmagical side of London. She read more of her books, practiced the magical spells described within, and spent plenty of time with Hedwig, petting, feeding, and cuddling up next to her. She was staring to feel like she knew her way around the Alley and the Cauldron, her little familiar corner of the magical world`.

But on this day, August had come to a close, and it was time to head off to Hogwarts. She was excited to learn so much about magic, the school had a great reputation. But she felt a bit hollow, sad to be moving away from Anna and Carrie. But she'd see them again before too long. Hogwarts had lots of kids her age – would she make new friends at Hogwarts? Only time would tell.

Professor McGonogall had sent her a ticket to get to Hogwarts: King's Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, eleven o'clock in the morning. From asking around the Alley, she'd heard that getting to the platform involved finding a trick brick wall. Given her experience going between the Cauldron and the Alley, she was very used to trick brick walls.

She loaded up her trunk with all of her possessions – clothes and the wound-up stack of books, mostly, then placed Hedwig's cage on top. She'd gotten the trunk at a tiny little hole-in-the-wall store in the Alley called 'Carving Up a Storm'. She said goodbye to Tom, the innkeep, and headed for King's Cross with lots of time to spare. She was glad her trunk had wheels, it made it so much easier to get the thing around. She carefully navigated the long, narrow London streets, under the tall, looming, gray London buildings.

She headed down into the Underground, waiting on the slow, smelly elevator, giving Hedwig lots of gentle petting to keep her calm. As long as she wasn't moving too fast, it wasn't too difficult. Before long, she'd reached King's Cross, at the heart of London.

She made her way to the long-distance train platforms. She found platforms nine and ten, which unfortunately were surrounded by brick walls everywhere. She was in the midst of a vast, vaulted room, with multitudes of strangers walking briskly through the area. With a deep breath, she started investigating the wall at the back of the station. She didn't feel anything different about these bricks, so, covering her actions with her body, so she tried tapping around at the various bricks with her wand, like the wall behind the Cauldron.

With no luck, she moved to the next wall around the wide, open space. She was glad she'd left so much spare time. And if nothing worked, she could always send Hedwig to McGonogall or Hagrid, they seemed to have some quick way to get between Hogwarts and the Cauldron.

At that moment, a group of people passed behind her, and he overheard a snippet of their exchange.

"– packed with bloody Muggles, of course –"

Harmony sighed, then turned towards the group. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys and a girl, all with flaming red hair. She looked like their mom. Each of the boys was pushing a trunk like Harmony's – and one of them had an owl.

She pushed her trunk after them, trying to keep up. As they pulled to a stop, she caught up.

"Hi, everyone, I'm – headed to Hogwarts," she said, in lieu of an introduction.

"Hello, dear," the mom said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too,"

She pointed at the youngest-looking of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. Harmony smiled, waving a bit.

"And Ginny's just here to see them off," the mom finished, gesturing at the girl about Harmony's height standing by her side.

"Um, I've been looking around for the entrance, I can't seem to find it."

"Oh, we'll show you," said the mom, lining up all of her sons. The eldest, Percy, stood tall and stiff-backed, with a starched collar atop his ironed shirt. He had an officious air about him, and a pin with the letter "P" on his collar. Was he just very proud of his name? Next were Fred and George, unless they were George and Fred, a pair of twins who seemed inseparable. The three of them all pushed their trunks toward the brick barrier dividing the two platforms. They just walked right through the barrier, not pausing at all. That was it? No wand involved? She could handle that.

Harmony went in next, pushing her trunk at a nice, sedate pace with plenty of control, and walked through the wall like it wasn't even there. After a brief dark hallway, she emerged onto a bright platform packed with people, midway down a long row of scarlet passenger cars. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Smoke from the engine drifted high into the air, cats of every color wound here and there between people's legs, and owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the chatter of the crowd and the wheels of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the windows to talk to their families. Harmony pushed her trunk down the platform to try to find an available seat. She passed a round-faced boy who was saying "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, Neville," she heard the old woman sigh. The woman was inexplicably wearing an entire stuffed vulture on her hat, which made her look very tall and intimidating.

A black boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. "Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harmony shivered and looked away. It wasn't that she disliked spiders, they just reminded her of her cupboard.

As she approached the locomotive, Harmony doubled back the other way, hoping to have more luck at the other end of the train. As she came back near the entrance, she saw the same red-haired family again. She slowed down to hear what they were saying. The mother had just pulled out a handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

Ron tried to duck out of the way, but she grabbed him and wiped off his nose emphatically.

"Mom – get off!", he said as he wriggled free.

"There, much better," the mom said, smiling. It was strange seeing a mother being overly affectionate.

"Where's Percy?", said the mother.

"He's coming now."

Ron stood off to the side of the group, near Harmony. "They're a piece of work sometimes," he said to her. She started a bit. She hadn't realized that she'd been staring.

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He'd already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and upgraded his collar pin to a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it. Did he just really like his name?

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to ourselves–"

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?", said one of the twins with an air of sarcastic surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think he might've mentioned something," said the other twin. "Once–" "Or twice–" "A minute–" "All summer–"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect. Well, that explained the badge.

To Ron, Harmony said, "I didn't have any siblings, growing up," by way of answering why she was staring. That wasn't the half of it, but there was a reason she was watching this family.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins, looking at Percy's shiny new outfit.

"Because he's a prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term – send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've – you've blown up a toilet or–"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's not funny. And look after Ron," she said, nodding towards him.

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron. He turned towards Harmony, saying "Let's find our seats."

The two of them pulled their heavy trunks up onto the train, and went looking for an empty car from the inside. After squeezing by several people in the cramped hallway, they found an empty spot near the back of the train. She put Hedwig on one of the chairs, then tried to lift her trunk up onto the baggage rack. She couldn't even get it off the ground, and Ron was struggling similarly next to her. Harmony put her trunk down, and together they lifted Ron's trunk up on to the rack. It took several tries, and once Harmony dropped it right next to her foot.

"Want a hand?" It was one of Ron's twin brothers, who'd followed them onto the train.

"Yes, please," Harry panted, and Ron nodded as well.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the four of them working together, they got Harmony's trunk lifted up and tucked away.

"Thanks," said Harmony, pushing her sweaty bangs out of her eyes.

"What's that?", said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at the lightning scar on Harmony's forehead.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you?"

"Harmony Potter," she said. When the twin squinted, she added, "Harry Potter, for short."

The two boys gawked at her, and Ron said "Woah," looking dumbfounded. The twins stepped away, and moments later she heard their voices out the window.

"You know that black-haired girl who entered the platform with us? Know who she is?"

"Who?", their mom asked, out on the platform.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry heard the younger girl's voice.

"Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see her, Mom, oh please–"

"You've already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn't something you goggle at in a zoo."

Sitting in their compartment, Ron was cringing, burying his head in his hands.

"Is she really, Fred? How do you know?", continued their mom.

"Asked her. Saw her scar. It's really there – like lightning."

"Poor dear – I'd heard she was a girl, but no wonder she was alone. She was ever so sweet."

"Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"Not a thing," Harmony said, without even thinking about it.

Ron looked up from her hands at her, curiously.

"I forbid you to ask. Don't you dare. As if she needs reminding of that on her first day at school," their mother answered from outside.

Ron looked down again. Harmony did appreciate the mom's comment, though, she didn't want to get into the nightmares and the odd green light.

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded., far up the train.

"Goodbye dears!"

Ron stood and walked to the window, saying "I should say goodbye." He leaned out the window and gave his mom a goodbye kiss.

As the train started to move, Ginny shouted "I'll miss you."

"Don't worry, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls!", shouted back one of the twins.

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!"

"George!"

"We'll send you half of a toilet seat!"

"Fred!"

Ginny ran after the train, laughing and waving. Soon, the train rounded the corner, leaving the platform out of sight.

Harmony and Ron settled down in their seats, facing each other across the compartment.

"Wow your family is – is –", said Harmony.

"I know, right, a bit much," said Ron.

"Fred and George are hilarious," she said, smiling. "And your mom seems like she cares about you all a lot."

"She'd love you," said Ron, smiling back.

"Percy –", said Harmony, unable to find anything nice to say.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Ron.

Harmony sat back and breathed deeply. Hogwarts was going to be nice. And it was nice to see what a family should be like, after all these years.

Chapter Text

As the train slowly wound its way out of London, Ron and Harmony smiled at each other across the compartment.

"So, um, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to," said Ron hesitantly, "but when you said you don't remember what You-Know-Who looks like, –", he trailed off.

Harmony appreciated that he'd given her the choice of how to respond. "Yeah, I don't remember much at all, but I know someone at Hogwarts who does."

Ron eyebrows arched right up his forehead. "Wait, really?"

"Yep!", Harmony answered, smiling. "His name is Hagrid, he's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds. He's really tall and he has a great big beard. I'll introduce you." After a pause, she added, "um, but maybe don't tell everyone that he knows, I don't think he wants to be pestered with questions."

Now that Ron had mentioned it, she was curious to ask Hagrid about it. But she didn't want to bring up any hard memories for Hagrid, it seemed like it was a dark time in his life.

Harmony and Ron each stared out the window for a while, watching London get sparser and give way to more of a suburb.

"So, are all your family magical?", asked Harmony, trying a different line of conversation.

"Uh – Yeah, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but I don't know him too well."

"So you must know lots of magic already."

Ron must come from one of those old magical families that the pale, annoying boy in Madam Malkin's had mentioned. Ron seemed nicer than him, though.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron, avoiding the question. "What are they like?"

"Well, my aunt and uncle and cousin are horrible, absolutely horrible. But I have two really nice friends from school, Anna and Carrie, and lots of kids at school are nice."

Ron nodded, looking intrigued.

"But I wanted to ask you about that," said Harmony carefully. "Is 'Muggle' an insult? Because I've heard some people – like your mom for instance – seem to use it that way."

"What's it to you, I thought you didn't like your aunt and uncle," said Ron back, a little forcefully.

"I don't, they're the worst. But, my friends are – nonmagical, and my mom was raised nonmagical."

Ron nodded, calming a bit. "No, I see your point," he sighed. "Yeah, it's basically an insult. People use it a lot more when they're mad at – nonmagical people. My dad mostly doesn't use it at all, except it's in his job title. My siblings are mixed on it."

Harmony nodded. "Thanks, that's good to know. And I wish I'd had four magic siblings," she said, changing the subject.

"Six," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth of us to go to Hogwarts, only Ginny's younger. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie already left – Bill was head boy and Charlie was Quidditch captain. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as all of them, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Harmony was reminded of Ollivander's line, "you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." She wished she could just buy a new one for him, but she couldn't really afford that.

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff– I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

"Hey, Ron, there's nothing wrong with not being able to afford a pet. I didn't have any money at all until a month ago, my aunt and uncle made me wear my cousin's old clothes, who was a boy," she said, rolling her eyes. The thought of wearing boy clothes was so far in the past, now.

Hearing about Harmony's time growing up seemed to cheer Ron up. When she got to the part about boy clothes, Ron seemed like he had something to ask.

"Wait, so – so you've only been wearing girl clothes for a month?", Ron asked.

"Yep, wasn't safe to wear them around my aunt and uncle. And I didn't own anything of my own, so yeah."

"Wow, you – you wear them well," he said, blushing. She smiled at the compliment, putting a hand to her cheek.

"Um, so, about the pet rat," Harmony said, changing the subject. She couldn't think of a way to help with the wand, but for the rat, "I was in Diagon Alley and I overheard someone at the Black Cat's Den, who said that sometimes people's cats have kittens, and they just give them away because they can't take care of them."

"Wait, really?", said Ron, his eyes bugging out.

"Yeah, the main expense is feeding them, but Hogwarts takes care of that," she said, thinking back to Hogwarts, A History. "With the number of cats going around the platform, you should ask around."

"Blimey, I had no idea it was that easy."

"And then you can give the rat to Ginny," said Harmony, smiling.

While they'd been talking, the train had carried them all the way out to fields full of cows and sheep.

Remembering how much Ron had enjoyed the story of Harmony's upbringing, she told him about how she escaped from them. "– and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a witch or about my parents or about Voldemort."

Ron gasped.

"What?"

"You said You-Know-Who's name! I'd've thought you, of all people –"

"I'm not going to go around treating him like he's special, just because he murdered a lot of people – like – like my parents," she said, her voice cracking. She always hated it when her voice did that, even though she was pretty fine with crying. "He doesn't deserve any respect."

Ron nodded, looking impressed.

As Harmony let her tears flow – crying means you can still feel, she repeated to herself – she heard a great clattering outside in the corridor.

A smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and asked,

"Anything off the cart, dears?"

It was about lunchtime, and Harmony had had an early breakfast, so she eagerly jumped to her feet, smiling and not bothering to wipe away the tears. Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harmony went out into the corridor.

Unfortunately, despite her rumbling stomach, the cart looked like it was mostly full of candy, which probably wouldn't taste great on an empty stomach, if Dudley's frequent bouts of indigestion were anything to go by. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Bubble Gum, Chocolate Frogs, and more and more candies.

After carefully looking up and down the cart for anything like looked like lunch, Harmony ended up buying several packs of pumpkin pasties, and a pack of chocolate frogs for desert. It came out to nineteen bronze Knuts, which Harmony felt she could afford.

Ron stared as she brought her pasties and frogs back in to the compartment and tipped them onto an empty seat. She took a big bite out of a pasty, which was surprisingly good.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef, though the chicken's alright. Bread's really dry, though. She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five kids around."

Harmony thought for a moment. "I have an idea – bet these pasties would taste a lot better if the filling was more than just pumpkin."

Ron smiled, and together they poked little holes in the pasties and stuffed in bits of the sandwich meats. Harmony had the pumpkin-and-beef pasties, while Ron had the pumpkin-and-chicken ones. They were delicious. Harmony was reminded of the improvised meals she'd made after she'd snuck food out of the Dursley's refrigerator, late at night. She always had to eat it all, whatever random assortment she'd grabbed, so the Dursleys wouldn't realize she'd been out.

These were much tastier, and much less nerve-wracking. The dry bread of the sandwiches was left to the side, forgotten.

"What are these?", Harmony asked Ron, holding up the Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No, they just wriggle around a bit when you open the pack. But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, right. So Chocolate Frogs have cards inside, famous witches and wizards. To collect."

Harmony unwrapped her frog. It indeed wriggled, then lay still, looking extremely lifelike. Harmony carefully ate the frog. It was very good chocolate, it reminded her of the ice cream from Florian Fortescu's on Diagon Alley.

She picked up her card. It showed a old man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing sliver hair, beard, and mustache. Under the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

So this was him – the wizard who had sent her to live with the Dursleys, who ran Hogwarts, and who Hagrid seemed to think the world of. She definitely needed a word with him.

She turned over her card and read:

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and for his work on alchemy with his collaborator Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys relaxing with his husband Rufino Juarez, listening to chamber music, and playing tenpin bowling.

So, Dumbledore had a husband. Harmony had read about men who dated men in Nonnormative Genders and Sexualities, they were called gay men. She'd never met any gay men, however. Or bisexual men. Or anyone who wasn't straight, that she knew of.

"Oh well, I've got Morgana again. Do you want her? You can start collecting."

Together, they went through the whole pack of frogs. Soon, Harmony had collected Hengist of Woodcruft, Alberic Gunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, Merlin, and the druidess Cliodna.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

Scabbers was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might've died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron, looking down in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look–"

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a severely battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway–"

Harmony definitely thought something needed to be done about that wand. How was Ron supposed to learn magic like this?

Ron had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open. A girl was in the doorway, looking like she was trying to meet people. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down. She had an authoritative sort of voice, bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth. She sounded a bit like when Harmony was saying something she'd practiced before.

Ron looked taken aback.

"Uh, alright."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me," she said, all very quickly.

"Yeah, and all of the spells I've seen in the school books have sounded Latin-y?", added Harmony.

"It was probably a fake one," Ron said, nodding. "George gave it to me, probably made it up as a joke."

"But, just in case, you might want to talk to Professor McGonogall about replacing your wand," said Harmony quickly. "She's the Deputy Headmistress, I think Hogwarts might have a fund for student leaning materials."

Ron nodded, his ears slightly pink again. Alright, that'd been navigated about as well as Harmony could manage.

"I'm sorry to hear the spell didn't work, I hope we learn a real color-changing charm soon," said Hermione, the words tumbling out again. "Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've leaned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said this all very fast. Learning the books by heart, that was very impressive – Harmony'd had time to read most of the school books, but she hadn't memorized them at all.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harmony Potter, pleased to meet you. I grew up nonmagical too," said Harmony.

"Are you really?", said Hermione. "Your name sounds just like mine. And do you know Harry Potter? I got a few extra books, and he's in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

Harmony smiled, with a twinge of annoyance at 'he'. She'd signed a few copies of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts in Flourish and Blotts. "Harry's just short for Harmony, that was me you're reading about."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I should've known this is what happens when I've only read about someone and haven't met them. And you're a girl, then, not a boy? I guess that was another detail they mixed up. You're the first person I've met who was in books," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I head Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad."

As Harmony was trying to mentally catch up with Hermione's words, there was a knock on the door of their compartment, and the round-faced boy Harmony had passed on the platform stepped in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they all shook their heads, he wailed, "He must be so scared on the train! He only hops away when he's scared!"

"He'll turn up," said Hermione.

"Do you want help looking?", asked Harmony.

The toadless boy nodded, sadly.

Harmony and Hermione both rose to help. Ron shook his head briefly, and Harmony and Hermione followed the toadless boy into the hallway, sliding the compartment shut.

"Hi there," said Harmony to the boy. "My name's Harmony."

"Nev– Neville," the boy said.

"And I'm Hermione."

"Do you want a hug?", asked Harmony.

Neville nodded, and the three of them awkwardly hugged in the cramped hallway. Resolutely, Neville turned to head further up the train.

Harmony's heart soared with excitement. They were going on a toad-finding adventure!

Chapter Text

Harmony, Hermione, and Neville set off on their toad-finding expedition up the train. Harmony and Hermione alternated knocking on each compartment as they went, but most were locked and not responding. Eventually, a compartment full of students around Harmony's age opened up.

"Hi everyone, have you seen a lost frog?", Harmony said, not putting Neville on the spot.

Everyone in the compartment shook their heads. Harmony spotted Sophie in the back corner. She looked a bit more relaxed, wearing her hair differently. It was messy in the back, sort of like a fuzzball, but still combed straight down over half of her face. It looked cool, unique.

"Hi Sophie!", Harmony waved. Sophie smiled a bit and raised her hand in response.

With no toad found, they closed the door and continued on. It was just a long string of closed doors and shaking heads.

"I've head Trevor for years," Neville said, clearly distraught. "I've never taken him this far from the house before, I didn't know he'd be so spooked and restless."

Hermione and Harmony both comforted him. "We're here for you." "And we're going to help Trevor, it'll be Ok."

Neville nodded, still crying a bit.

Before long, the three of them had reached the front of the train, where the prefects' compartments were, the ones Percy had mentioned back on the station.

As they clustered outside the doors, Hermione spoke up. "I wonder if they have some special spell to find lost pets, I bet upper year students know all sorts of spells that are ever so interesting, there have to be all kinds of spells that weren't in our books or anything."

Neville's voice became a little more hopeful. "You think so? You think they can help us?"

Harmony nodded encouragingly. Neville took a deep breath, then knocked on one of the prefects' compartment doors.

The muted conversation behind the door stopped, and a voice said "What?"

Neville slid the door open. On the other side were four students, all much older and larger than the three of them. They'd all changed into their black Hogwarts robes, which were trimmed in different colors - one each in yellow, red, blue, and green. Percy was among them, the one wearing the red-trimmed robes.

"Um, I've lost my pet toad, Trevor," Neville said hesitantly, looking up at them. "Have – have you seen him, or do you know how to find him?"

"No, we haven't," said the boy wearing yellow dismissively. "And we don't have time for a load of first-years," added the girl in blue, "or your annoying problems," finished the girl in green. Percy nodded firmly, then turned his back on Neville, resuming their conversation.

Neville burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. Harmony hugged him, while Hermione dragged the door shut, then joined the hug. They each other for a while, giving Neville the time and comfort he needed.

Eventually, Harmony pulled away from the hug, and resolutely turned to the other prefects' compartment. Hermione kept one arm around Neville's shoulders. Harmony'd known there were Dursleys in the magical world, and she needed to protect Neville from having to deal with them.

Harmony knocked on the compartment door, then pulled it open.

"Excuse me," she said authoritatively, "could I request one of your assistance with finding a lost pet." The group of older students looked up at her. Again, they were all in the black robes, trimmed in different colors. After sharing a glance, a girl in yellow with a badge reading "HG" pinned on her robes shrugged and stepped over to them.

"What's the problem?", she asked.

In a less forceful tone, Harmony continued, "My friend Neville here has lost his toad, somewhere on the train. We've looked down the whole train, but we can't find him. Could you help us?"

"Of course," said the upper-year witch, "let me think. Hmmmm. Ah! What's your toad's name?", she said, looking towards Neville.

"Trevor," he said nervously.

The upper-year witch pulled out her wand, and made a complicated motion that ended with the wand laying horizontal across the palm of her hand.

"Illac Toad Named Trevor," she incanted.

The wand spun in her hand like a compass, until it locked on to something, pointing up the train.

Harmony and Hermione's eyes grew wide, mesmerized by the novel magic.

The upper-year witch smiled slightly, saying "Alright, now let's walk down the train, and this will point out the right car."

They all walked single file, Harmony bringing up the rear.

As they neared the midpoint of the train, the spellbound wand started to swing to the left, and before long it pointed at a specific compartment door, one of the ones that hadn't opened the last time around.

The upper-year witch pulled open the door, saying, "Excuse me, I believe there's a lost toad in this car."

There was a group of unfamiliar older students in the car. "Really?" asked one of them.

Neville poked his head into the car to look around. From above, up in the luggage rack, came a deep croak.

"Trevor!", said Neville hopefully, holding out his arms.

The toad hopped down into Neville's arms, who hugged him warmly.

Harmony and Hermione smiled and patted him on the back.

As they stepped out of the compartment and closed it up, the older witch said "Glad we were able to find him. My name's Melissa," shaking their hands. "If he hops off again, just ask around for someone who can cast the Illac spell, it's pretty widely known among upper-year students. Oh, and have a good first year at Hogwarts."

With that, Melissa walked back up the train, and the three of them walked down to their compartment at the end of the train.

"Thanks for your help, both of you," said Neville, cuddling Trevor happily.

After they settled back down in their seats, Neville showed off Trevor to the other three – Ron now included. He was a very large toad, almost as big as any of their heads. He had very thoughtful looking eyes. Harmony showed everyone Hedwig, careful not to wake her, and Ron showed off Scabbers, who was still snoozing. Hermione was the only one of them who didn't have a pet, though she mentioned wanting to get a cat.

"Oh! We should get changed into our robes!", said Hermione. "We're getting close to Hogwarts."

One at a time, three of them stepped into the hall, while the fourth changed into their robes. Harmony was the last to change, and she checked and double checked that the door was locked and the window was drawn before changing. Changing for gym in school had been awful – she'd always had to change in the toilet stalls to have any privacy, and those were still not private enough. She also made sure to look away from any windows which might reflect her appearance. She'd gotten to the point where she was Ok with how her face looked, but that was it.

When she was done, she opened the curtains again, then unlocked the door and let her friends back in.

With that out of the way, the conversation started up once more.

"So, what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?", Harmony asked.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons," he said, like it was nothing, "And Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts. Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't know if you all would've heard – someone tried to rob a high security vault."

All three of them stared at Ron.

"Really? What happened to them?", asked Harmony, thinking back to the dire warnings she'd seen.

"Nothing, they got away, that's why it's such big news, even though they didn't manage to steal anything. My dad said it must've been a powerful Dark Wizard, and everyone's wondering if You-Know-Who might be behind it."

They all sat on that in silence for a moment, the landscape growing dark and purple outside the window.

As they were sitting, the compartment door slid open again, and three boys entered. Harmony recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale, annoying boy from Madam Malkin's. He was looking at Harmony with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in the Alley.

"Is it true?", he asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment, and he's pretending to be a girl. So it's you, is it?"

Harmony silently looked at the other two boys. Both were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, following Harmony's eyes. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

The three of them reminded Harmony of Dudley's gang.

"I know you, you're the dimwit who made your mom check out wands for you, even though the whole point is to try them yourself?"

Harmony'd been waiting to use that one for a whole month.

Draco looked down at her three friends, still ignoring what everyone else was saying. "No need to ask who you all are. My father said all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford. And a Mudblood," – Neville and Ron gasped at this –" and a Longbottom. Sorry about your parents," Malfoy finished, not sounding sorry at all.

Neville buried his face in his arms, and Harmony stepped towards Malfoy, wanting to shield her friends from his words.

Malfoy turned back to Harmony, saying "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends of the wrong sort. I can help you there, and with your – clothing choices," looking scornfully at Harmony's blouse and skirt.

He held out his hand to shake Harmony's, clearly not expecting her to take it. Harmony shook his hand anyways, saying,

"Looks like you've already fallen in with the wrong crowd," nodding at Crabbe and Goyle. "Maybe you need my help."

A slight tinge of color came over the pale boy's face. Was he wearing makeup, or was he anemic, or what?

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. Neither did his parents," he said, gesturing at Neville. "You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and Mudbloods and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

There was another gasp from behind Harmony.

"Oh, what are you going to do?" asked Harmony, getting right up in front of Malfoy. "Are you going to sic Voldemort on me, like he killed my – my parents?"

"I'll have you know that those allegations are completely unfounded, and the investigators dropped all charges!", Malfoy shouted, sounding threatened.

Harmony had no idea what he was talking about – she'd hit a nerve, completely by accident.

Crabbe and Goyle started to step forward, menacingly. "Yeah, ours were cleared too." "What are you trying to say."

Harmony took a step backwards. There were only three of them, and four on Harmony's side, but Crabbe and Goyle were the only two who looked like they'd ever thrown a punch. Harmony wished she had Anna here to help. Harmony's usual solution – run away – wasn't really an option here.

Goyle put an arm on the top of the seat where Ron and Neville were sitting, but before he could touch them, he let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers the rat was handing off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle. Crabbe yanked the rat off, leaving a bloody gash on Goyle's hand, and the three of them vanished into the hallway.

"Hope you don't get into trouble," said Hermione.

"But that was pretty cool," Neville said softly.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage and pets on the train, they will be taken to the school separately."

They all said goodbye to their pets – Scabbers was Ok, he'd gone back to sleep – and Harmony took a deep breath. This was it. Hogwarts. All sorts of people, hopefully enough of them nice.

The train slowed, slowed, and finally stopped. The four of them followed the crowd to the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Harmony shivered in the cold night air, grateful for the warmth of her robes.

A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harmony heard a familiar West Country accent: "First years! First years over here! All right there, Harmony?"

Hagrid's big bearded face beamed over the sea of heads. Harmony smiled. Hogwarts was going to be alright.

"C'mon, follow me – any more first years? Mind your step, now! First years follow me!"

Moving slowly in wet night, they followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path through the dark trees. Harmony made sure to stay close to her friends, keeping a hand on Neville's shoulder.

"You'll all get your first sight of Hogwarts in just a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "just round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!" from the group.

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high hill on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry night, was a vast castle covered in turrets and towers. The air around the castle seemed to shiver and quake, speaking of some timeless and hidden magic.

"No more'n four to a boat!", Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harmony, Ron, Neville, and Hermione loaded into one, leaning back to look up at the castle high above.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass despite the slight breeze. Everyone was silent, caught in the majesty of the great castle. It towered high into the sky as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff it stood on.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the boats reached the cliff. They all ducked, and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which glinted with runes of unknown purpose. The tunnel carried them right under the castle, until they reached an underground shore, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

A dark staircase cut through the cavern ceiling, and they walked up under Hagrid's lamp, coming out onto smooth, damp grass right in front of the castle. It was impossible to take in, more details and size than one hilltop should've been able to hold.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oaken front door, which was inscribed with the same symbol of four animals from Harmony's letter.

"Everyone here? Right then."

Hagrid raised a massive fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

Chapter Text

The door swung open just as Hagrid's third knock finished. Professor McGonogall stood there, in her customary emerald-green robes. Harmony waved up to her, and McGonogall returned a slight smile.

"The first years, Professor McGonogall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide and turned to lead them all in. The entrance hall was so vast, you could have fit the Dursley's entire house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

Harmony could hear the murmur of hundreds of voices coming from a large pair of doors to the right – the rest of the school must have taken a shortcut – but Professor McGonogall led the first years into a small, empty chamber on the opposite side of the hall.

They all crowded in, packed in tightly.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonogall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony. While you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and have the option to spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, which is a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house you are sorted into."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was turned halfway to the slide, on Ron's smudged nose, and on several other students. Harmony nervously adjusted her pigtails, making sure that they were symmetrical and that no hair was escaping.

"I shall return when we are ready for you, please wait quietly," Professor McGonogall said, leaving the cramped chamber.

"I hope the Sorting test doesn't hurt too much," said Ron. "Fred said it was really rough."

"I read it involved wearing a hat that could talk to you," said Harmony, thinking back to Hogwarts, A History. What sorts of questions would it ask? Would she need to tell it about the Dursleys?

Suddenly, there was a flicker of silvery motion high overhead. Harmony jumped, and several people behind her screamed.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the upper reaches of the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, the glided into a circle around the upper reaches of the room.

"New students!", said one who looked like a short, wide monk. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded quietly.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!", the ghost said. "My old house, you know."

Several more ghosts sounded off their encouragements, but all of the first-year students were too stunned to speak.

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonogall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a single-file line," Professor McGonogall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harmony took a deep breath, then joined the line, following a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind her, and Neville and Hermione following. They walked out of the chamber, back across the entry hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harmony had never even imagined such an enchanted and splendid place, even with all the magical wonders she'd seen. It was lit by thousands upon thousands of candles that were floating high above four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. The tables were marked with the colors and insignias of the four houses, and were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. Beyond the magic, this was clearly a place of wealth.

At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonogall led the first years partway up a small flight of steps in front of the teachers' table, so they came to halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

Hundreds of shadowed faces stared up at them in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shown misty silver. To avoid the staring eyes, Harmony gazed upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She thought back to Hogwarts, A History, at the same time Hermione whispered "It's bewitched to looked like the sky outside."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open onto the vast expanse of the universe.

Harmony quickly looked down again as Professor McGonogall silently placed a four-legged stool at the bottom of the steps that the first years stood upon. On top of the stool she put a pointed wix's hat. The hat was patched and frayed and looked ancient. Aunt Petunia wouldn't've let it in the house.

So this was the interview hat. It certainly looked magical. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then, the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

So the hat could read their minds? And it could think and talk and be alive, even though it was a hat? This was a whole new level of magic, like nothing Harmony'd seen before.

The seated students burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables, then grew still again.

Professor McGonogall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails, not too different from Harmony's hairstyle, stumbled out of the line, picked up the hat, sat on the stool, and put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes. After a moment's pause –

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The rightmost, yellow-trimmed table cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit with the Hufflepuffs. Harmony saw the monkish ghost waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left, trimmed in blue, clapped this time – several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, and "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor. The red-trimmed table on the far left exploded with cheers – Harmony could see Ron's twin brothers give a standing ovation.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. The green-trimmed table second from the right broke out into applause – it seemed like half the table wanted to shake Millicent's hand and introduce themselves as she reached them.

Harmony was starting to feel a bit sick, with the eyes watching her and with the weight behind this moment. She took a deep breath to try to steady herself, but the nerves wouldn't go away.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harmony noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, just moments after touching the person's head, but for others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus", the sandy-haired boy next to Harmony in line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Harmony clapped for her as she walked to the Gryffindor table, then decided to start clapping for everyone as they were sorted.

After several more students, Neville was called. He tripped on his way down the steps, but Harmony and Ron were there to help him up. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville was so relieved he ran off still wearing the hat, and had to jog back amid peals of laughter, only partially drowned out by the Gryffindor applause.

"MacDougal, Morag" was next, and before long came "Malfoy, Draco."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his preferred house at once: after only a second or two on his head, the hat screamed "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left before Harmony, now. Harmony suddenly wondered which name Professor McGonogall would use for her. She wished she'd had time to discuss. It wasn't that Harry was a huge problem, but Harmony would save her a lot of introductions. But Harmony remembered McGonogall saying "your official documents will reflect your legal name," and that might be the end of it.

"Moon, Lily" "Nott, Theodore" "Parkinson, Pansy", then a pair of twin girls, "Patil, Padma" and "Patil, Parvati", then "Perks, Sally-Anne" – the last two both Gryffindors. Then, at last – "Potter, Harry!"

Harmony took a deep breath, then stepped forward. As she did, the hall broke out into whispers, like little hissing fires.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

"Why's he wearing a skirt?"

The last thing Harmony saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. The next second, she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see, plenty. A love of learning, a good mind. Close friends, intense loyalty. Ambition, yes, you hope to remake the magical world, that's interesting. So where shall I put you, then?"

Harmony thought back to the moments in her life that she was proudest of. Coming out to her friends in school. Opening the door of the little shack, to the knocks that turned out to be Hagrid. Demanding help with Neville's toad. Standing up to Malfoy.

"Yes, you're certainly courageous. But the scope of your ambitions – healing human-Goblin relations, opening the eyes of wixes to trans people, thwarting Dark Lords. You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."

"I don't want to hurt people to succeed," she thought back. She didn't want to push herself up by pushing others down, the way Malfoy did it.

"Well, – if you're sure, better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harmony heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall – it nearly deafened her. She took off the hat and walked shakily to the Gryffindor table. She was so consumed by the brief conversation with the hat that she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously. He seemed to have changed his mind about first-years and their annoying problems in a hurry. The Weasley twins yelled "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harmony sat down with Neville and Hermione, alongside the rest of the first-year Gryffindors: Sally-Anne Perks, Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnegan, and Lavender Brown.

"Rivers, Oliver" had already been sorted while Harmony was getting seated, and next was "Roper, Sophie!"

Harmony clapped as her name was called, even as the rest of the hall grew silent. Sophie looked very nervous as she walked forward, and perched the hat with difficulty on her fuzzball hair. After a long, long wait, the Sorting Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table erupted in applause and cheers again, and Harmony made sure to stand and cheer and wave Sophie over to join the first-years' section. She looked overwhelmed from all the attention, but quietly pleased.

Looking up, Harmony could now see the High Table properly. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumps up. Harmony grinned back. And there, at the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, almost a throne, sat Albus Dumbledore. She recognized him from the Chocolate Frog card. His silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harmony spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was now sporting a large purple turban.

Harmony had missed a few names, there were only four people left. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harmony at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw, and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harmony applauded for him as he stepped up, and a few seconds later the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harmony clapped loudly with the rest of the table as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy pompously from the next seat down as "Zabini, Blaise", another Black student, was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonogall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Albus Dumbledore, the man himself, had stood from his throne. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin, I'd like to introduce the kitchen staff to you!"

Dozens of short people, maybe two to three feet tall, appeared on the steps in front of the High Table, where the first year students had stood. They had large, pointed, bat-like ears and wide eyes that spanned half their faces. They were wearing all manner of eccentric, colorful clothing, polka-dotted suits and tiny dresses and wild scarves and enormous glasses.

"I'll encourage you to get to know our staff," said Dumbledore. "The kitchen is always open."

"Welcome to Hogwarts," they all said in a chorus of high, squeaky voices. They bowed in uninson, then with a ringing snap of their fingers, vanished once more.

"Largest community of free elves in Britain," Hermione whispered excitedly. "I read it in –"

"I would also like to say a few words," Dumbledore continued. "And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down at his throne. That wasn't exactly the kind of word Harmony wanted with him, though the older students all clapped and cheered.

"Is he – a bit mad?", she asked the table at large.

"Mad?", Percy said airly. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harmony's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food – how had the elves gotten it there? She had never seen so many delicious meals on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamp chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes and roast potatoes and fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

The Dursleys had often starved Harmony, and even when they hadn't, Dudley had always taken anything that Harmony really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harmony piled her plate with everything but the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

Hogwarts was starting to feel real.

Chapter Text

When everyone had eaten as much of the glorious banquet as they could, the remains of the food faded from the golden plates, leaving them as sparkling clean as before. A moment later, the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could imagine, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries and blueberries and blackberries, rice pudding –

As Harmony helped herself to a chocolate eclair, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's nonmagical, me mum's a witch. They didn't tell anyone else in the family until they were married. Shocks all around when the parents met each other at the wedding."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville? Uh, if it's Ok?", asked Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was nonmagical for ages. My Great Uncle Algie was real mean about it, he was always trying to force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing came of it until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles, like always. But then my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue, and he suddenly let go. I thought that was it for me, but I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad, Trevor. But I still don't trust any of them, Algie especially. And you should've seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see."

Neville's story reminded Harmony a lot of the Dursleys. Maybe they could talk it over together sometime. But not over dessert. Instead, Harmony stayed quiet and mostly listened. She noticed that Sophie was doing the same.

On Harmony's other side, Percy and Hermione were talking about lessons – "I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult –"

"You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –"

Harmony, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonogall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his large boldly-colored turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It all happened very suddenly. Quirrell stood to leave the table, turning around, and the greasy-haired teacher looked straight into Harmony's eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot through Harmony's head.

"Ouch!" Harmony clapped a hand to her forehead.

"What is it?", asked Percy.

"Headache out of nowhere."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harmony had gotten from the teacher's look – a feeling that he didn't like Harmony at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?", she asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, he's great at it, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harmony watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at her again. And the headache stayed gone.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore rose again from his large, golden chair.

"And now – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you all.

First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors, except by prefects and in life-threatening emergencies.

Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch or their house team captain.

And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

At that, the hall grew frigidly quiet.

"What's that about?", Harmony whispered to Percy.

"It's odd," whispered back Percy, frowning up at Dumbledore. "He usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!", cried Dumbledore. Harmony noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

Harmony coughed. The words had come out more like "Sogzwarts, Sozwarts," on the first try, and it took her a few more coughs until her voice sounded normal again.

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "The greatest magic we teach here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy and the other fifth-year Gryffindor prefect, Clarissa Carter, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. Harmony's legs felt heavy and sluggish, she was so tired and full of food.

She was too sleepy to even be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harmony was wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Clarissa took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at her.

"Protego!" she incanted, conjuring a shimmering, wobbling rainbow sphere, like a massive soap bubble. Despite how insubstantial it seemed, the sticks just bounced off it.

"Remember, only prefects and Professors are allowed to do magic in the corridors, or if there's an emergency, which this is not," said Clarissa.

Percy nodded firmly. "Peeves, a poltergeist," he said to the first-years. He raised his voice, "Peeves – show yourself!"

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, was the only answer.

"Do you want me to jinx you?", asked Percy, drawing his wand.

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Ooooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, this is your last warning," said Percy, trying to look menacing.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks. He aimed for Neville's head, but Clarissa redirected her shield charm and deflected them. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "Step into a classroom if you need to avoid him."

"There's no rules against using magic if he follows you in there," said Clarissa conspiratorially.

"Ah, here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very wide woman in a pink silk dress, surrounded by fancy colorful cushions. She looked lovely, Harmony thought.

"Hello, Percy, dear. And welcome, students! May I have the password?", she asked.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it – Harmony gave Neville a hand – and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a large, cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs and comfy sofas, and a wide, crackling fireplace. Doors led off the common room in all different directions.

Percy and Clarissa directed the girls through one door and the boys through another. The six girls started up the spiral staircase in a tired single-file line. But when Harmony was just six steps up, a klaxon sounded, wailing loud enough to shock her completely awake. An instant later, the steps under her feet merged into a smooth slide, and she toppled onto her face and shot down the spiral. Before she even reached the bottom, she'd already burst into tears.

Below her, Sophie had been close enough to the base of the stairs to just step off, and Harmony came to rest at her feet. When Sophie helped her up, Harmony saw through blurry eyes that the steps higher up the tower – where Hermione, Lavender, and Sally-Anne were standing – were untouched.

"What was that?"

"Are the stairs possessed?"

"Oh, oh."

Harmony's heart sunk, and sunk, and sunk right into her toes. She knew what had happened. Hogwarts had judged her, and decided that she wasn't enough of a girl.

Chapter Text

Hogwarts, the most magical place she'd ever seen, had declared that she wasn't a girl. Harmony staggered over to one of the comfy sofas and collapsed onto the the middle seat, crying uncontrollably. She felt hopeless, hollow, like a knife was stabbing through her ribs. She could remember the line from Hogwarts, A History:

The Hogwarts founders believed that boys were untrustworthy, and needed to be kept out of the girls' dormitories.

And apparently, the founders or Hogwarts or somebody thought she was a boy. She'd hoped so dearly that Hogwarts would just believe her.

Sophie followed her over from the stairs and sat down next to her. Sophie awkwardly put an arm over Harmony's shoulders. They'd never done more than shaken hands before, but it was the comfort Harmony needed. She leaned into Sophie's shoulder, crying and gasping for air as her nose clogged completely.

Hermione shot down the slide and joined Harmony's other side, sitting tight against her and adding to the hug. Harmony needed the connection, but she could barely feel Hermione and Sophie on either side. She was remembering, horrible memories, flashes of Uncle Vernon and the awful witch from Flourish and Blotts. As she cried, snot and saliva poured out of her, just making her feel more and more disgusting. Someone handed her a napkin, and she did her best to wipe herself off.

She heard more voices in the background, and the sounds of feet running down stairs. She felt the pressure of someone leaning up against her legs. Neville was sitting there, doing his best to help. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he put a hand on top.

Looking up, Harmony saw Ron standing in front of them, heading off older Gryffindors who had come down to see what the alarm was about. She closed her eyes again, and let herself feel the embrace of her friends. She was gasping now, great huge breaths to stave off choking.

She saw Uncle Vernon's face, purple with rage, screaming about how she was different, how different was bad, how she made him look bad.

Her eyes snapped open again, and she buried her face in Hermione's bushy hair. She'd clean it off later, for now she needed to be close to people. She kept reminding herself: Crying is good, crying means you know how to feel. Let yourself feel.

After some unknown time, Harmony's ears eventually unplugged, and the world slowly game back into focus. Most of the Gryffindors had gone to bed. Clarissa, the prefect, was consulting a little pamphlet called the "Prefect's Handbook", but didn't seem to be finding anything. Percy was nowhere to be seen.

Seeing that she was looking around, Clarissa stepped near.

"Harmony, ah, I'm so sorry, I should've realized that might happen. Is there anything I can do to help?", she asked softly.

Harmony certainly wasn't thinking clearly, but nothing was coming to mind. She shook her head.

"Alright, well, I'm glad you've got your friends. Percy's gone to fetch Professor McGonogall, our Head of House."

Harmony, nodded, still mute. Ron came around the back of the sofa, and comfortingly squeezed her shoulder.

"I just want you to know, mate, we don't care what the stairs think."

"We're here for you," said Neville from the floor.

Sophie just gave Harmony's shoulder a light squeeze.

"I can't believe the founders used such a fallible –", started Hermione, cutting herself off mid-sentence. "I don't care what the founders thought, they're wrong," she said, angrily.

"Thanks, everyone," Harmony said softly. It really did help to have all of them here, even if she'd only known them for a day or so. She missed Anna and Carrie. But she wasn't alone. At least she wasn't locked in her –

And she wrenched her mind away again, leaning into Sophie's side.

The door to the common room opened, and Professor McGonogall stepped in, wearing a long nightgown under her robe. Percy stepped in afterwards, looking at his wits' end.

Somewhere distant, the two prefects explained the situation to the Professor. Harmony didn't try too hard to follow what they were saying. She heard Hermione and Sophie speak up to add some details, but she just focused on feeling the closeness of her friends. She squeezed Neville's hand, down by her knees.

Professor McGonogall shook her head, then walked over to the staircase in question. After a few quiet incantations, she stepped back to the group and addressed Harmony.

"I am most sorry, my dear. I should have realized the interaction the dormitory charms would have with your – unique situation."

Harmony nodded. Her tears were drying up, leaving her feeling empty.

"Now, these charms were never meant to be deactivated, unfortunately. We could float you up the stairs, but the alarm would still sound continuously, so that wouldn't help."

Harmony nodded again. That figured.

"I will need to consult the Hogwarts records to see what remedies are available to us." McGonogall yawned quietly, trying to hide it.

"We're not going to be able to change anything tonight, unfortunately," McGonogall continued. "Would you be open to sleeping in the common room tonight? Or we can put some beds in a nearby classroom?"

Harmony really, really appreciated that McGonogall hadn't asked if she wanted to sleep in the boys' dormitory.

"I think the common room will be alright," she said quietly.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'll ask the cleaning staff for assistance in configuring things," said McGonogall, turning to step away.

"Maybe we could join her down here, to keep her company?", asked Ron. Harmony's other friends chimed in, and McGonogall nodded her assent.

"If that's all?", she asked.

"My trunk and Hedwig, my owl, can someone bring them down?", asked Harmony softly.

"Your owl is residing in the Owlery, with the school owls. Clarissa, could you float her trunk down?"

Clarissa nodded, and headed up the same stairs. McGonogall took her leave, and Harmony zoned out again, breathing heavily, crying but for lack of tears.

Before long, Harmony heard a high-pitched voice.

"Excuse me? Request for five sofas to be set up as beds?"

Focusing her eyes again, Harmony saw an elf, shorter than where she sat on the sofa, wearing a green skirt like a dress, clipped over her shoulders with a tiny pair of suspenders. Next to the elf was a big pile of sheets and blankets, and some standing dividers to add privacy.

"That's right, thank you, uh, ma'am, why don't we set them up over here," said Ron, busying himself with the logistics. Clarissa returned with Harmony's trunk, and they all moved over to a circle of sofas, out of the way of the main routes between the entrance and the dormitories.

Harmony was feeling a lot more grounded and in focus, with the time and with the closeness of her friends. She'd never had any validation of her gender from her old school, she didn't need it from this building. She had her friends, she had nice people like McGonogall, she had enough. The hollow, empty feeling was starting to fade.

Soon everyone had left except for Harmony and her friends, Ron, Sophie, Neville, and Hermione. Everyone made their preparations to sleep, brushing their teeth and so forth, while Harmony just lay in her makeshift bed, under her blanket, not moving much. She wasn't ready to close her eyes again. Her friends came by to offer last hugs, then they dimmed the lights and settled in to sleep. But Harmony wasn't close to sleeping.

Sophie came over and sat next to Harmony's sofa. She carefully put her arm by Harmony's head, and they sat quietly together for a bit.

"I was hoping I'd been the one to trigger the stairs," Sophie said softly. "But I checked and I wasn't."

Harmony rolled over a bit onto her side, so she could look at Sophie.

"Are you – not a girl?" Harmony asked quietly.

Sophie nodded, fuzzball hair bobbing softly.

"I'm sorry it – alarmed on you."

Harmony nodded and smiled gently, giving Sophie the space to continue.

"I really took to heart what you said at the bookstore, about feeling unsettled around – girl stuff, for me, and about exploring. I had an idea I might not – be a girl, that's why I went to talk to you."

Harmony nodded again and smiled. Maybe there was another way she wasn't alone.

"I don't have many friends, so I was just exploring on my own. I tried doing my hair like this, to look like the bassist from the Weird Sisters, Donaghan Tremlett."

Sophie gestured at the hairstyle, face half covered by long bangs, with fuzzy hair in back.

"But I feel like it just looks girly on me," Sophie said with a sigh.

"Well, it was just a first try, it's Ok," Harmony said comfortingly. "I remember one of the textbooks mentioning something about hair magic, we can try out more styles together. And for what it's worth, I think your hair looks really unique and cool." It did, the hair was like nothing Harmony'd ever seen before. It was nice being able to think about somebody else, someone she could help.

Sophie smiled shyly.

"So, um, do you feel like more of a boy?", Harmony asked carefully.

"Not really, no," said Sophie with another sigh. "I've only rarely found anything that seems to fit."

"Was there something that did?"

"Well, kind of, yeah. Over the summer, my dad was showing me a game on his computer. You type stuff in to talk to other people and interact with the world of the game. You can connect with people from anywhere, even other countries."

Harmony gave Sophie another soft, encouraging smile.

"Anyways, there was a person who called eirself a 'spivak', not a man or a woman or anything. And when the game talked about em it used different words, like 'e' instead of 'he' and 'she'. So yeah, I think think that might be me, I think I might be a spivak."

Harmony could hear Sophie's voice get more excited and confident as e spoke, and Harmony couldn't help but smile widely. She leaned forward and gave Sophie a hug, wrapping her arms around em. After a nice long hug, she leaned back again.

"That's so cool!", whispered Harmony back enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you found something that's right for you!"

"Thanks! And I talked with the Sorting Hat when I was being sorted, and it told me that it isn't a boy or a girl either, and a lot of magically-animated beings are that way too. So I guess I'm not completely alone," e said, smiling again.

"And I'm here for you too," Harmony declared fiercely, "just like you're here for me. Finding out who you are is hard, you don't have to do it alone."

They shared another tight hug.

"I'm looking forward to exploring, together," said Sophie.

"Me too," said Harmony, smiling across her whole face.

After a last hug, Sophie got up to head to eir bed. As they all drifted off, Harmony couldn't stop smiling, even though her eyes were all puffy and red. Maybe it was good that they weren't in the girl's dorm, if it meant Sophie had a reason not to be there.

Chapter Text

As Harmony awoke and donned her glasses, she found a note on the side-table next to her sofa. It was from Professor McGonogall, asking her to meet after dinner, in McGonogall's office. Looking around the circle of sofas, Hermione and Sophie had matching notes. Harmony pocketed hers with a sigh. Probably something about the dorm stairs.

They moved the dividers around to give people places to change. Once everyone had their robes on, Sophie tried to address the group.

"Hey everyone, um, there's something, ...", e trailed off.

"Hey everyone, Sophie wants to tell us all something," Harmony said.

Sophie smiled nervously. "So, um, I wanted to tell you, I'm not a girl."

"Oh, cool, you're a boy, like Harmony's a girl?" asked Ron.

"Well, kind of, not really. I'm not a boy or a girl, I think," e said.

"Oh. Huh. I guess that makes sense. Are you something else?", Ron continued.

"Yeah, um, I'm a spivak, it's a gender thing I heard about on – on a computer, a computer's a nonmagical way of talking with people far away."

"Oh, wow, that's super neat! I love learning about things over the internet, but I'd never heard of people who are spivaks, that's awesome!", said Hermione, her face lighting up.

"Is it a bit like how a lot of plants aren't just male or female, or how amphibians can sometimes change between the two?", said Neville, petting Trevor gently.

"A bit like that, I think, yeah," said Sophie, smiling at how accepting her friends were.

"Right on, that's super neat! You show 'em!" said Ron, lightly punching Sophie's shoulder. E smiled and gave Ron a tentative tap back.

"Oh, so one thing about being spivak, so there's some different words to refer to me, like he or she for boys and girls. So it's "e" for me, and "em" instead of his or her."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and said she'd practice right away, and the whole rest of the group joined in. Sophie smiled in relief, and they all drew in for a group hug.

As they set off for breakfast, they were followed by a flood of whispers and people gawking.

"Did you see that girl?"

"Did you see his scar?"

"– Potter –"

"– stairs –"

Ron and Sophie walked at the sides of the group, glaring at everyone staring at Harmony. Harmony wished all of that would go away. It was hard enough just trying to find their way around Hogwarts. Staircases that rose two floors yesterday would end after just half a floor today. Stairs would move from side to side, even if you were halfway up them. There were trick steps that could get your foot stuck, and stairs that got steeper and steeper until you were climbing a wall. Maybe the stair-designer of Hogwarts just really hated students.

And the doors - some doors needed a password, some you needed to tickle in just the right place, and some were actually walls just pretending. They quickly learned the rules of navigating Hogwarts: Stay in groups, and ask people in portraits for directions.

Once they finally made it to the Great Hall, breakfast was just as delicious as last night's feast, and Harmony made a mental note to visit the kitchens and meet the chefs.

The first class of the day was Herbology, which was taught in the greenhouses behind the castle by a kind little witch called Professor Sprout, who was the Hufflepuff head of house. They started learning how to take are of all the strange plants and fungi, and leaned what they were used for, if anything. Neville, though shy, clearly had a lot of experience taking care of magical plants, and Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor several points for his insights.

The next class was Charms, taught by Professor Flitwick, the Ravenclaw head of house. He was tiny, only a couple of feet tall, and he also looked like he might have some goblin ancestry. He stood on a raised platform at the from of the room, and his desk look like it had been custom-made for him.

Thinking back to her conversation with Hhoran and her book of goblin-human relations throughout history, she had all sorts of questions, but she wanted to wait until things quieted down a bit. And she had no idea if he wanted to talk about any of that, of course. Charms started slow, just practicing pronunciation and wand gestures, but they'd get to trying full spells before long.

After lunch, they headed to Transfiguration, taught by Professor McGonogall. As they all filed into class and took their seats, they didn't see their Professor anywhere. Her desk was empty except for a tabby cat, sitting like a loaf in the middle of the desk.

Ron turned to chat with Dean and Seamus in the row behind him, when suddenly the cat swelled into the emerald-robed form of Professor McGonogall. Though she had a strict expression, Harmony smiled to see her. Ron cringed in surprise and shame at her sudden appearance.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn here at Hogwarts. No other magic is so uncharted, soopen to interpretation and unpredictability. It will unlock a vast vista of possibility, both wondrous and dangerous. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She glared at Ron in particular as she finished, who nodded, shrinking back into his chair.

Then she turned her desk into a pig and back. They were all very impressed, but they soon realized that they wouldn't be doing any big flashy transfigurations anytime soon. For most of the class, they just took lots of detailed notes, on both the safety and theory of transfiguration. It had a lot of overlap with Harmony's old nonmagical physics and chemistry classes: one needed to really understand what something was made of in order to transfigure it.

Near the end of class, they were all given a match, and asked to turn it into a needle. It was desperately difficult, and no one managed it completely. Hermione had made the most progress: hers had gone all silver and pointy, earning a rare smile from Professor McGonogall and one point for Gryffindor.

In contrast, Ron was having particular trouble: By the end of class, his wand was vibrating and emitting little puffs of smoke whenever Ron even held it near a match. As Professor McGonogall dismissed the class, Harmony turned to Ron.

"Do you want to try asking about a different wand?", she asked him quietly.

Ron flushed the brightest she'd ever seen him, but he nodded silently.

They went up to McGonogall, who was putting papers on her desk in preparation for the next class.

"Um, Professor McGonogall?" asked Ron hesitantly.

"Yes? What is it?", she said, looking up from her papers.

Harmony put a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Um, uh, it's about my wand," he said, pulling it out of the pocket of his robes. "It's, um, not in the best condition."

McGonogall inspected the wand, running her hand over the chips, examining the tiny fuzz of unicorn hair poking out the end, tapping a bit more smoke out of the end.

"This wand, it did not choose you?", she asked, looking Ron in the eye.

"No, it's – it used to be Charlie's," he said, blushing, averting his gaze. Harmony put her arm around his shoulders, silently supporting him.

"I thought I recognized it," said McGonogall, nodding. "A well-functioning wand is essential to your education, particularly given the stringent safety requirements of my class."

Ron nodded, staring down at his toes.

"It's no fault of yours, dear. I'll fill out the paperwork to requisition one for you."

Ron looked up, his eyes wide, blushing.

"I'll ask Hagrid to escort you to Diagon Alley," McGonogall continued, "perhaps tomorrow after lunch?"

Ron blushed again, quietly saying, "Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate it."

McGonogall nodded and gave a slight smile. "If there's nothing else?" Harmony and Ron shook their heads and turned to go. "And I'll see you after dinner, Ms. Potter," McGonogall added. Harmony nodded and smiled as they left.

As Harmony and Ron hurried off to their next class, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ron managed to say, "Thank you, Harmony, for – for being there for me."

Harmony slowed to a halt and wrapped Ron in a hug. "Glad to help. Glad to be your friend."

After a nice hug, they raced off to Defence. They made good time, only having to double back once, and managed to get to class only a minute or two late.

Everyone'd really been looking forward to Defence, but it didn't live up to expectations. To start, the class reeked of garlic, strong enough to give Harmony a major headache. The rumor had it that the garlic was to ward off a vampire Quirrell had met in Romania, and was still terrified of. He said his turban was a thank-you from an African prince for getting rid of a necromancer who was bringing back people who'd died to make them his slaves.

But no one was quite sure they believed the story. When Seamus Finnigan eagerly asked how Quirell had fought off the necromancer, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather. Also, the turban had a funny smell of its own, which didn't fit with it being a gift from royalty.

After all the classes, it was time for dinner. It was delicious as ever, but Harmony could hardly concentrate on the food with all the people muttering and glancing indiscreetly at her. She almost felt like she wanted to burst, but fortunately Hermione came to the rescue with a long stream of facts about Hogwarts' founding, which helped Harmony center herself.

As dinner wrapped up, Harmony walked up to McGonogall at the front table, and the two of them walked to McGonogall's office.

"What did you want to talk with me about, Professor?"

"Several things. First, your accommodations. I apologize again for not having this squared away in advance."

Harmony took a deep breath and nodded.

"The best option I've found is to convince the tower to add another room on the level of the common room, so no stairs will be necessary. First-year girls will choose whether they'd like to live in the new room or the original room."

Harmony nodded, thinking it over. "Would it make more sense to move everyone to the new room?"

"I've interviewed each student in question, and not everyone was comfortable with that option," said McGonogall delicately.

Harmony winced and squeezed her eyes shut. That meant someone didn't want to sleep in the same room as her. She tried not to think about who it might be, and tried not to think about that mean woman from Flourish and Blotts. Speculating would just hurt more, as would ruminating. Eventually, Harmony sighed, and nodded.

"Then your suggestion sounds best, I guess," she said, quietly.

McGonogall nodded. "Next, I'd like you to see Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, in reference to the Dursley's abysmal treatment of you."

Harmony nodded, more confidently. She'd never been to a doctor or nurse or anyone before, and it was time that changed.

"Good, why don't you meet her during your free period tomorrow after lunch."

McGonogall took a deep breath, looking slightly nervous.

"And now, I'd like to take you to meet with Dumbledore, primarily to discuss the Dursleys."

Harmony's eyes widened, her heart beating more rapidly. For all that she'd wanted a word with him for a month now, she wasn't at all sure what she was going to say. She took a deep breath.

"He's not going to try to send me back, is he? Because no matter what he tries, it's not happening."

"I have talked with him extensively on this subject, and no, that is not his intention," McGonogall said firmly.

Harmony nodded. She wanted answers. Why was she stuck with the Dursleys? Why was she not told of magic? Why did Dumbledore turn a blind eye to the Dursley's treatment of her?

"And I'll be there to support you," McGonogall finished.

Harmony took another deep breath. "Yes, alright. It's about time we talked."

McGonogall led her to Dumbledore's office, which was only a short distance from McGonogall's own. Partway down a nondescript corridor, a door was blocked by a gargoyle, carved from stone, with a long neck, wide eyes, and folded batlike wings. It didn't stand out among the statues and suits of armor scattered about Hogwarts.

To the gargoyle, McGonogall announced "Rhubarb and Custard". At those words, the gargoyle came to life, bowing gracefully and stepping aside, and ushering Harmony and McGonogall through the door. They entered onto the foot of a spiral staircase. As Harmony started to climb the steps, they shuddered and started to move. Harmony grabbed McGonogall's arm in a panic, fearing a repeat of the Stairs Incident. But the stairs lifted like an escalator, as McGonogall patted Harmony's shoulder gently.

When they reached the top, McGonogall grasped the dragon's-head knocker and knocked firmly on the door.

Chapter Text

"Enter," came Dumbledore's breathy, aged voice from beyond the heavy wooden door. With a disembodied click, the door swung open.

Dumbledore's office was an enormous circular room, luxurious, even opulent. It was richly carpeted in flowing, looping patterns, covered in tapestries and marble, and the upper floor of the office was surrounded by dozens of magically-animated portraits, all the way to the domed ceiling. Bookshelves ringed the walls of the upper floor, filled with thick, heavy tomes. The lower floor was surrounded by a multitude of spinning, warbling, whizzing metal devices, reeking of magic and secrets. Amongst a row of metal whozawhatsits sat the Sorting Hat on a simple stool.

In the center of it all, Dumbledore sat composed at his desk, looking out across the vast room to the two of them. Two comfy-looking armchairs were set out for Harmony and McGonogall.

At Dumbledore's right hand stood a beautiful bird, orange, red and yellow, with vast wings, wider than any Harmony had ever seen. Looking at the bird, his form seemed to shimmer with a constant life, crackling like a peaceful fire. Realization dawned on Harmony: This is a phoenix. The phoenix looked at Harmony with a caring expression, tilting his head to the side. Was this Fawkes, the phoenix Olivander had mentioned? Whose tail feather was in her wand? And whose other tail feather –.

As they walked over to take their seats, Dumbledore said "Welcome to Hogwarts, and to my office. It's a pleasure to meet you in person."

Harmony smiled politely as she sat, sitting on the front half of the chair, careful not to sink into it. She needed to stay alert.

"Now, before we begin, I'd like to ask: Do you prefer Harry or Harmony?"

"Harmony, thank you," she answered politely.

Dumbledore nodded. "And Mr. or Ms.?"

"Ms."

"Excellent. Now, Ms. Potter. Harmony. The reason I have asked you to meet with me today is to discuss the circumstances – surrounding your parents' deaths, your placement with the Dursleys, and our steps going forward."

Harmony gritted her teeth, breathing deeply. No sugar-coating it, then. Fine.

Before Dumbledore could finish, Fawkes took flight, his wings eight feet wide, cawing loudly. His call was the rumble and hiss of a fireplace. He circled around the vast room, swooping down to gently land on Harmony's shoulder, one wing folded around her head. He felt like the warmth and safety of the Gryffindor common room, the joy and magic of Hagrid lighting a flame in the tiny hut on the sea.

Fawkes glared at Dumbledore, clearly affronted.

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "Fawkes and Minerva have each impressed upon me the gravity of my failures, and I have come around to their opinion. I believe I owe you an apology, and an explanation."

Harmony nodded, wary. "I would appreciate that."

"First, the apology. I apologize for placing you with your aunt and uncle after your parents' murder. And I apologize for not monitoring your situation in enough detail to notice their mistreatment of you. Rest assured, you will not live with them again."

Despite her wariness, Harmony smiled broadly. Now, her freedom was real. "Thank you for the apology. Though I still have questions –"

"I'd be happy to answer your questions in due time. But first, Harmony, the explanation. I had once thought to avoid placing this weight upon you until you were older, but I fear we do not have the luxury of time."

Somehow, each word he spoke left a bad taste in Harmony's mouth, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it just yet.

"The story begins with Voldemort. I trust you have heard the basics. Almost ten years ago, when you were but a year old, Voldemort decided to kill your parents, as he had killed so many before. He made his way to your house, and broke through its defences."

Harmony nodded. This fit what she knew so far, but still something felt off.

"Your parents, James and Lily, tried to fight him off, but were soon outmatched. But in their final moments, they together enacted a magical ritual, unlike any the world had seen. Ritual magic harnesses the power of emotions, commitments, and the bonds between people to create powerful and abiding magics. It is well known that in a person's dying moments, the gates of ritual magic open to them, and many things are possible. Your parents were both deeply talented, and they worked a wonderful magic, beyond even my abilities."

This – was this why she'd survived? How Voldemort was vanquished?

"Your parents placed an aura of protection upon you, to protect you from Voldemort specifically, thick enough to protect you from any violence Voldemort might try to turn your way. And within that aura, they placed a note of vengeance: Any violence he attempted upon you would be repelled outward, to rebound upon him."

Harmony started to cry, silently. For her parents' love, the parents she never was able to know.

"So after he murdered your parents, Voldemort attempted to murder you. And thanks to your parents' protection, he failed. He very nearly died, that night. But he had conducted certain Dark Magics that rendered him unable to die. Instead, he was split from his body, reduced to a mind and a scrap of essence, lost and wandering and focused on nothing but revenge."

Through her tears, Harmony could still feel a note of doubt. How could Dumbledore possibly know all of this? Was he just guessing? How much was he guessing about?

"But such magic as Voldemort employed does not leave its target untouched, even through an aura as powerful as the one you carry. It leaves its mark on its target," he said, pointing a thin finger at Harmony's scar. "You bear a curse, something Dark, something of Voldemort, something which seeks to kill you even to this day. I believe that only your parents' protection has staved off that curse so far."

Harmony shivered. It made her feel unclean to carry Voldemort's touch upon her. And what did it mean that her scar had burned yesterday at the Feast, when she'd first met eyes with Professor Snape?

"And now we come to the crux of the problem. The aura your parents placed upon you is born of ritual magic. Ritual magic requires human connection to sustain it. Your aura requires familial connection, in particular."

Harmony's heart started to sink in a different way.

"After Hagrid brought you from the ruins of your house, I was able to identify that the aura which sustained you could only be maintained if you could maintain an ongoing familial connection to your parents. If you could call family someone who they called family."

Harmony grit her teeth, moving from sadness to rage.

"Here the options were slim. You had no living magical relatives: Your father's parents predeceased him, and he had no siblings. There was one man who James loved like a brother, who might have worked, but – it was soon revealed that this man had betrayed you and your parents to Voldemort."

This must be Sirius Black, her godfather – the traitor. She'd read about him in some of the books she'd signed at Flourish and Blotts.

"So that left your nonmagical relatives, on your mother's side. And I realized that your nonmagical relatives could be advantageous to your safety. They could keep you secret, away from the eyes of the magical world, safe from Voldemort's remaining supporters. I judged your aunt and her family to be the obvious choice – they were as separate from the magical world as separate could be. I predicted they'd keep your very existence secret, which would further keep you safe."

Finally, Harmony found her voice. "How dare you? They hated every magical sign I ever showed. How could you possibly think that was a good thing?" Fawkes cawed his agreement, short and angry like the snap of a log in the flames.

"Indeed. I neglected the crucial danger: The danger from the Dursleys themselves. And I neglected to monitor for that danger, trusting in secrecy instead."

"You – how – you –," spluttered Harmony. She was too angry to get a sentence out.

"Yes, I quite regret that choice, and the harm that befell you as a result," said Dumbledore mildly.

There was a thick lump in her throat. All she could do was stare, stare and fume. She felt Fawkes' hot anger next to her.

"However, there is another option: your mother's parents, Michael and Daisy Evans. They are alive and well, and I think they'd love to meet you, and to take you in, if you're interested."

This caught Harmony completely by surprise. Her grandparents were alive? She could meet them? She was immediately struck by a wave of happiness, and she had so many questions.

"I'd love to meet them, thank you," she said, her emotions roiling.

"Excellent. I will contact them, and Minerva will escort you to meet them tomorrow evening."

Harmony was incredibly happy. But. Why was Dumbledore doing this? Why couldn't she have met them a month ago? Or when she was a baby?

Harmony glanced up at Fawkes, asking with her eyes, "Can I trust him?" Fawkes looked down at her, and shook his head sadly.

Firmer, resolved, she looked back to Dumbledore.

"Now, onto the subject of your being trans, Minerva has told me is the term." He was just changing the subject? Just like that?

"I am gay, this is my husband Rufino," said Dumbledore, pointing to a photograph of himself and another elderly man, who looked Hispanic, Central or South American. The two were holding each other gently and smiling. They looked happy together.

"When I was younger, this was not accepted. It was illegal, even. Between then and now, there have been many years and many catastrophes, but now I am accepted. I can peacefully enjoy my time with my husband. I'll introduce you two, when he's next around the castle."

Harmony nodded, smiling slightly. It sounded like here, at least, the situation was a bit better than in the nonmagical world.

"I see your situation as much like mine was, when I was growing up. You have the right of it, certainly. You are a girl, you know who you are, and I believe you. There will be many who stand in your way, but I will always support you. I have instructed all of the Hogwarts staff to conduct themselves respectfully, and to push the student body in the same direction. I apologize for not anticipating the issue with the dormitory stairs, and Minerva has my full support in her steps to rectify the problem."

"Now, do you have anything you'd like to say?", asked Dumbledore, peering down over his shining half-moon glasses.

Harmony was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath.

"Thank you for supporting me in being who I am. I appreciate that. And I'm looking forward to meeting my grandparents."

Another deep breath.

"But, the Dursleys. You sent me to them because of my parents' protection and the curse. Fine. But why did you abandon me there? Why did you let them beat me and starve me and lock me in that cupboard. I–", Fawkes was cawing alongside Harmony's statements. Dumbledore looked unsettled, but Harmony wasn't stopping.

"I was so miserable and lonely and hopeless, without my friends at school I don't know what I would've done. The Dursleys all hated my guts and you locked me in that house with them. If they'd've found out I'm a girl they'd've beaten me until I couldn't stand, or nailed my cupboard shut. I could've died in that closet."

Harmony was crying furiously now. Fawkes wrapped his wing around her, and nestled his head on hers, crying as well. Harmony took deep breath after deep breath. Fawkes was good at comforting her. Somehow, the Dursleys felt a little more distant. It was "that cupboard" now, not "her cupboard" anymore. And with Fawkes' comfort, something else eased a bit. A buzzing sensation so deep Harmony didn't have a word for it. A crawling feeling in her skin, a lingering dread at the future. It eased a bit.

After a long, long silence, Dumbledore at last spoke. "I did what I believed was the best choice. I had my eye on Voldemort, and Voldemort alone, even as everyone else took their eyes off of him. I did what would've been the right call, fifty years earlier, if I wasn't so blind then. And instead, I was blind now."

Harmony had no idea what to make of that cryptic statement. But it wasn't an answer.

"Are you done, at least? Done making the decisions for everyone else, trying to control people and manipulate events to your preferred outcome instead of just telling people what's going on and making decisions together?"

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling like the distant cold stars. He silently shook his head.

Harmony stared back at him, as a long, long silence stretched between them.

Eventually, Dumbledore spoke. "I'll tell you more, when I think the time is right."

Harmony again set her expression firm. "I don't trust you, Professor."

Dumbledore kept smiling. "I don't think that trust is essential."

In the silence, the only sound was whoops and whirs of the strange, mysterious devices that ringed the office.

"If that's all?", said Dumbledore.

Harmony nodded firmly, then reached up to give Fawkes a last pat. "Thank you. For the support," she whispered to him. "Try to talk some sense into him?"

Fawkes nodded, sadly, as if to say "I'll keep trying."

"And can I come and visit you?", asked Harmony softly.

Fawkes ruffled his wings, as if saying "I'll visit you."

With that, Fawkes launched off of Harmony's shoulder, and returned to his perch next to Dumbledore. Harmony and McGonogall rose and left the room. Harmony was deep in thought over all that had been said.

As she descended the stairs with McGonogall, McGonogall said "Why don't you meet me tomorrow evening after dinner, I'll take you to meet your grandparents."

Harmony nodded as they left the staircase, the gargoyle stepping aside for them as they left. She stopped and turned to McGonogall.

"Why didn't you tell me about them, for the whole last month?"

"Dumbledore forbade it."

Harmony nodded, disturbed.

Chapter Text

Harmony woke up in her bed in the new alternate dormitory room that McGonogall had created. It had been a peaceful night's sleep. There were no nasty surprises here, though it was just her, Sophie, and Hermione in the room. Sally-Anne, Lavender, and Parvati had all stayed in the original room.

Hedwig had come around to visit, and Harmony let her in through the window next to her bed. She petted and nuzzled the beautiful snowy owl.

There two notes on her bedside table: One from Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, asking her to meet just after lunch as McGonogall had mentioned yesterday. The other was from McGonogall, reminding her that she would meet her grandparents this evening. As if she could forget – she could hardly think about anything else!

She let Hedwig fly off again, and the three of them joined up with Neville and Ron to head to breakfast. There was still the same muttering as yesterday, but it just didn't feel like it mattered anymore. Navigating was a bit easier, they didn't get lost quite as badly as on their first attempt. Breakfast was delicious as always, and their first class of the day was History of Magic.

The class was incredibly boring, unfortunately. It was taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old when he'd fallen asleep by the staff-room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind. He droned on and on in a bland monotone, going on about Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball. Harmony quickly realized that she knew these words already: He was literally reciting exactly what was written in their textbook, A History of Magic.

Quickly losing all respect for him, Harmony pulled out her copy of the textbook and started to just read it, ignoring the professor. When he didn't seem to mind, she caught the eyes of Sophie and Ron, and they moved to the side of the class to read on their own. It was much nicer than listening to Binns' endless dull lecture. Bathilda Bagshot certainly knew how to write, she didn't deserve her words being reduced to this. By the end of the class, most of the Gryffindors and a good fraction of the Hufflepuffs had joined their reading circle. Binns didn't look like he cared, and perhaps still hadn't even noticed.

As they left, Ron said, "Potions with the Slytherins next, oh joy." As Sophie led the way down into the dungeons, Ron filled them in on the situation. "Snape's the Head of Slytherin House. Fred and George say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

At the start-of-term banquet, Harmony'd gotten the impression that Professor Snape disliked her. It was time to see what he was like for real.

Potions was held down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would've been quite creepy even without the glass jars full of pickled bits of animals, all around the walls.

Snape started class by taking roll, and paused at Harmony's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Ha–. Well, Potter. Our new – celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold, empty, dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonogall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect more than a couple of you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harmony'd pulled out her quill and parchment and noted down the back half of Snape's speech. Some of those potion effects seemed incredible.

Silence stretched on. It was clear Snape loved potionmaking, and equally clear that he had a very low opinion of their competency.

"Potter!", said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

She'd rather expected a quiz, and last night had skimmed through Magical Drafts and Potions and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi – Snape seemed exactly the sort to try something like this, though she hadn't expected to be the only one quizzed.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember. She took a deep breath, then opened them.

"Some kind of a sleeping potion, if I recall correctly."

Snape tilted his head back and forth, as if trying to get a clear look at her.

"Let's see, then. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

She didn't remember that from either of the two textbooks she'd skimmed, which meant – had it been in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?

"The intestines, I think?" Her memory was very hazy, and she couldn't quite remember what a bezoar was, but she had a feeling intestines were involved somehow.

Snape gave her another squint and tilt of the head.

"Hmmm. What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

That she definitely remembered. They'd been listed on the same line of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, in the section on Poisons.

"They are the same plant, sir, a poisonous one."

A strange faraway look had come over Snape's eyes.

"Good enough, for the basics. For all of your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful, it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone that can be found in the stomach or intestines of a variety of domestic animals, most often horses and goats. It will save you from most basic poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are indeed the same family of plants, which most often goes by the name of aconite."

Harmony carefully noted down the details, breathing deeply, her heart still beating rapidly.

"Well? Why aren't all of you copying that down?"

Harmony smiled a bit, her head down toward the page. There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment as Snape swept away, back towards his desk.

Snape put them into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. Harmony was paired with Neville, and together they looked through the list of steps. There was weighing, crushing, stewing, heating, and cooling, and there was no way they'd remember every step correctly. Harmony was reminded of the complicated recipes Aunt Petunia had made her cook. Petunia had always yelled at Harmony when she'd gotten a step wrong.

In the back of one of her aunt's cookbooks, she'd found a clever suggestion: Make a checklist of all the steps you need to do before starting a new recipe, then check them off as you go, so you don't forget any. After she started making checklists, Petunia had screamed at her much less often.

Harmony and Neville wrote out their checklist together, as all the other students got started weighing dried nettles and crushing snake fangs. Snape swept around in his long black cloak, criticizing everyone except Malfoy, who he seemed to like. He seemed just as willing to criticize Slytherins as Gryffindors, other than Malfoy.

Neville was about to add the porcupine quills, but Harmony pointed out there was a step unchecked on their checklist. Instead, they took the cauldron off the fire first, then added the quills, and together they continued with the potion.

Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs, when clouds of acrid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the classroom. Ron had somehow managed to melt a hole through Sophie's cauldron, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes.

Within seconds, the whole class was pulling their feet up to the level of their stools, while Ron, who'd been drenched in the potion in the initial deluge, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his face, blending with the color of his furious blush.

"Idiot boy!", snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Ron whimpered and nodded as boils started popping up over his ears and down his neck.

Snape waved his wand again, and the boil-curing potion that Snape had earlier made as a demonstration floated over, covering Ron's head and neck.

"Sit in the corner for the rest of class, and don't touch anything," said Snape. "And apply more if further boils appear," he said, waving over a vial containing more of the finished potion.

Ron nodded and started to stand. Sitting next to him, Harmony whispered, "It's alright mate, we almost made the same mistake." She patted him on the back, careful to avoid any boils.

"An important lesson in safety for you all," said Snape, gazing out over the class. "It is vital to have remedies and countermeasures for any mistakes that may be foreseen. It was not a coincidence that I prepared a batch of the cure in advance. As you begin potionmaking, I will undertake those precautions on your behalf. As you advance, they will become your responsibility."

By the end of the class, Neville and Harmony had managed to create a solid potion, and Ron's boils had recovered considerably. Snape had even shown Sophie how to patch the hole in eir cauldron, saying that this too was an important part of potionmaking. As everyone filed out, Snape called Harmony up to his desk.

In his characteristic quiet tone, Snape said, "Good work with the checklist, that was a wise precaution. One point to Gryffindor."

Harmony smiled slightly. She was proud of herself for that.

"You remind me of another potionmaker I knew – good preparation, very deliberate, good, consistent results. Lily Evans, your mother."

Harmony smiled again, a bit sadly this time.

"Thank you, sir. Did – did you know my mother well?"

"I did. We – we grew up together, in walking distance."

A bit like who Carrie and Anna were to her, perhaps?

"Could you tell me about her, sometime?"

Snape nodded, looking distant once more.

"Thank you, Professor." She turned and left, a certain lightness in her step.

Chapter Text

At lunch, Ron ate quickly and inconspicuously slipped off towards the Head Table, to visit Diagon Alley with Hagrid for his new wand. Harmony gave him a little smile and wave as he left, as Ron ducked his head and slipped away.

Soon, the topic at the table turned to what they would do with their free afternoon. Hermione suggested the library, but Sophie quietly spoke up.

"Um, I'd like to try out haircuts, maybe?"

"That's a great idea! Maybe we can find magazines with lots of different looks in the library?", said Hermione.

Harmony laughed a bit from Hermione's single-mindedness, but it was a good suggestion. "Let's research hair growth spells too, so if we mess up a look we can try again."

Sophie smiled and nodded shyly, unused to being the center of attention.

"I'd like to try something a bit different as well," Harmony added, her hand going to her left pigtail. "I think I'll make them a bit longer, and I want to try trimming my bangs as well."

Neville joined the conversation, a bit nervously. "Maybe – Maybe I could help with the haircutting? I have some practice with pruning plants?"

"Thanks, Neville, I'd appreciate it, and I'm sure e would appreciate it too," said Harmony, as Sophie smiled.

As lunch wrapped up, Hermione, Sophie, and Neville headed for the library, while Harmony peeled off toward the Hospital Wing. She'd join her friends later, but now was time to meet with the nurse, Madam Pomfrey.

The Hospital Wing was much easier to get to than most places in Hogwarts – no trick steps or moving staircases along the way.

A lovely statue of a unicorn stood outside the door to the infirmary. It was made of copper and stood peacefully over a gentle fountain. Harmony patted its horn as she entered.

The infirmary had a high ceiling, with a row of windows that let in plenty of light. The walls were painted in gentle pinks, oranges, and yellows, in gentle abstract waves. Rows of beds lined the walls, most empty this early in the year but a few occupied.

A nurse in a white-and-red outfit, presumably Madam Pomfrey, was helping someone at the far end of the room. There was a little sitting area by the door, so Harmony settled in to wait.

Before long, the nurse came over, and Harmony stood to greet her.

"Hello, my dear. My name is Madam Pomfrey, and you must be Harmony?"

Harmony nodded and smiled, pleased someone had gotten her name right on the first try. "Yep, Harmony Potter, that's me."

"Wonderful," said Madam Pomfrey, ushering Harmony over to a pair of comfy armchairs.

"Take a seat, I'd like to start by checking some basics about your health."

Harmony sat, and Madam Pomfrey started waving her wand and speaking quiet incantations. Before long, she was scribbling down notes on a parchment with HARMONY POTTER written in big letters at the top.

"When were you last seen by a healer?", asked Madam Pomfrey, emerging from her notes. "Or a doctor or nurse, in the nonmagical world?"

Dudley had always complained to no end about seeing the doctor, but Harmony's aunt and uncle had never taken her.

"I've never seen one, unless it was before I can remember," said Harmony. Madam Pomfrey looked concerned, which was a fairly typical reaction to people hearing about Harmony's life before she escaped.

"My aunt and uncle, I lived with them but they didn't like me very much. They didn't like me at all."

"Oh, my," said Madam Pomfrey, "We shall certainly discuss that further, just give me a moment to complete these spells."

After another minute or two and a few more notes, Madam Pomfrey sat down next to Harmony.

"Well, I'm seeing indications of malnutrition, several vitamin deficiencies in particular, and an improperly healed fracture in your left wrist."

Harmony rubbed at her wrist, absentmindedly. It hadn't hurt the last few days, but it was prone to getting sore, like when she was practicing her spells back in Diagon Alley. It'd been that way for a long time.

"That makes sense. My aunt and uncle often locked me in the cupboard and I had to pick the lock and sneak out to steal food in the night, which probably wasn't a very balanced diet. And my uncle would always yank me around by the wrist when he was mad. There were a couple times when it really hurt for days afterwards."

She hadn't really thought much about how bad it'd been. But now that she was safe, maybe it was Ok to think about. Her nose started to her clog and her eyes get thick, and before long, she was crying. She hadn't really expected to cry. But she needed to. Maybe she'd forgotten how to feel. And now she was remembering.

"Oh, my dear." Madam Pomfrey was crying a bit, too. "May I offer you a hug?"

"Yes, thank you," said Harmony through her tears. They each leaned forward and hugged over the armrests.

Madam Pomfrey stood and returned a moment later with a box of tissues. Harmony smiled and dabbed at her eyes, once she felt ready.

"Now, your vitamin deficiency is relatively easy to rectify. I will prepare a simple potion for you to take each morning. I will have a set of vials sent to your room tonight, and new sets each week. If your potions are damaged or lost, it's not a problem, I'll be happy to replace them."

Harmony nodded and smiled. She was glad there weren't permanent problems on that front.

"As for your fracture, that will be quicker to fix, though rather more painful. Let's take care of that next."

Harmony nodded, feeling more serious.

Madam Pomfrey pulled out a bottle shaped like a skeleton, with deep red eyes in its head.

"This is Skele-Gro. A powerful medicine. In large doses, it can replace entire lost bones. In your case, only a very small amount is required."

Madam Pomfrey started by pulling out a large spoon, which she half-filled with water with her wand. Then, she removed the stopper on the skeleton-shaped bottle and used a syringe to pull out a tiny amount of yellow-green liquid. She dropped a single drop of the potion into the spoon, where it smoked on contact.

Holding out the spoon, Madam Pomfrey said, "Now, drink this down, dear. It's going to hurt, but only briefly."

Harmony nodded, and took a deep breath, then slipped the spoon into her mouth and drank. She grimaced, the potion burning its way down her throat, prickling like fire in her wrist. But as soon as it came on it had already started to pass.

"That's it?", Harmony asked.

Madam Pomfrey cast a couple spells, then nodded. "Yes, dear, that's the fracture sorted."

Harmony rolled her wrist experimentally and smiled. Either magical healers were much better than the nonmagical kind, or Dudley had been complaining over nothing. Or both.

"Now, finally, I have something I want to ask you about," said Madam Pomfrey.

Harmony nodded, sitting up attentively.

"You're – a girl."

Harmony nodded.

"You're at the age where children typically begin to experience something called puberty."

Harmony nodded again.

"I know about puberty," said Harmony. "That's when girls start growing breasts and – bleeding, and when boys –"

She shivered, and stopped. She took a deep breath, and continued.

"When boys grow hair out of their faces and their voices drop and they get all tall and muscly and –"

She couldn't go on, she couldn't even cry. Madam Pomfrey's mouth moved but she couldn't hear anything. Her skin itched all over and her arms felt too big and –

"–eathe in with me, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out," she managed to hear Madam Pomfrey saying.

She breathed. She breathed.

"Look around the room. What do you see?"

She breathed.

"A pink wall. A brown blanket. The blue sky."

Many deep breaths later, she felt calmer, calm enough to focus on Madam Pomfrey again.

"Is it hard to think about puberty?"

"Yes. I don't – want to be a boy. I don't want to look like that, to be like that." It all came out in a small, choked voice.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I've been looking into this, ever since Hagrid mentioned a few things about you at one of the staff dinners."

"I looked over the Hogwarts medical records dating back several decades, and practices were most unsatisfying prior to my tenure. Children in your situation were not previously given any assistance whatsoever, and the previous occupant of my position told several students that he knew better than them, and that their sense of self was wrong. I will not have this, and I have contacted several former students for follow-up consultation."

Madam Pomfrey looked intense, even a little heated. Harmony smiled. It was nice to have someone on her side.

"There are two avenues of care that I believe are vital. One is a specialized kind of healer, one who specializes in healing through conversation and discussion. It's clear that there are a lot of emotions around your gender, and around your former guardians, and conversational healers are trained to help you think through, come to terms with, and understand those feelings."

Harmony nodded. A conversational healer sounded really helpful.

"I've taken the liberty of setting up an initial meeting for you, for tomorrow evening. You'll visit them via the Floo network, come here after your final class tomorrow and I'll show you the way."

Harmony wondered what this Floo network was, but nodded, still quiet. She was being very careful as to what she thought about.

"Next, on puberty." Harmony took a deep breath, then waited for Madam Pomfrey to continue.

"Puberty is controlled by certain hormones, certain chemicals in the body. In many people, these hormones are produced by certain internal organs, which typically determine the puberty effects that they will experience."

Harmony took a deep breath, misting up again. She stared at the pattern of the wood on the floor. Anything to be outside herself.

"Now, in your case, your hormone levels appear significantly lower than I would've expected, given your – organs – and your stage of bodily development. Have you – received any nonmagical treatment in regards to this? Or magical treatment?"

Harmony shook her head, mystified and caught completely by surprise.

Madam Pomfrey stood again, casting another few spells in a quiet whisper.

"Perhaps an intense magical healing effect? Originating – at the top of your head?"

Harmony's eyes widened. "Yes! Fawkes cried on me! Um, the phoenix who lives with the headmaster."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "That would explain it. Phoenix tears can heal almost anything." She smiled and sat down next to Harmony again.

"But Fawkes isn't the only one who's figured out how to help you with this. Certain ancient wixen discovered how to override those hormones as well. Their practices have fallen out of favor for many years, but I have it on good assurance that their recipes work as well as ever." Harmony leaned forward, intrigued.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, and conjured an image of a strange tablet. It looked like pottery with little indents, lines ending in little triangles inscribed on it, forming little shapes and symbols. Something between drawings and words.

Madam Pomfrey started to tell a story. "Long, long ago, in a distant land called 'Sumer', there lived a magical order of witches known as the 'Gala'. They were a religious order, devotees of a goddess called 'Inanna'. Of her, they said 'To turn a man into a woman and a woman into a man are yours, Inanna.' It's written there, across the top of the tablet," she said, pointing at part of the image she was conjuring.

"Now, I don't know if that goddess was in any way real. But I do know that the Gala discovered how to magically alter the body's system of hormones, removing the effects of any internal organs and replacing them with the choice of the person in question."

Harmony's eye grew wide, staring at the strange, ancient script.

"This is amazing. It's – it's more than I hoped for."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "I thought you might be interested."

"According to this medical guide," she said, indicating the image, "and other documents from the time period, it was standard to nullify any bodily hormones until the age of 13, which the Sumerians judged to be the age of maturity, and to begin one's chosen hormones after that point. Does that sound good to you, dear?"

"So, I won't start boy puberty?", Harmony asked carefully.

"Technically, you already have, though the effects have been quite minimal thus far."

Harmony's eyes grew misty again, but she steadied herself with a deep breath.

"But the effects will progress no further."

"I'd love that. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, thank you."

Madam Pomfrey smiled.

"Now, written here," she said, pointing at a particular line on the tablet, "are the instructions for the Nam-Dumu Potion. That's Sumerian for the childhood potion. It will prevent any further effects of puberty until we're ready to begin a girl's puberty for you. We'll do that with the Ki-Sikil Potion, the young woman's potion." Madam Pomfrey pointed to another part of the tablet.

Harmony gave her a beaming smile.

"I'll have that made and sent to your dorm as well. You'll take it daily, each morning, same as your vitamin potions."

Harmony nodded, still wearing that radiant smile.

"Oh, and if you ever need to talk with a healer other than myself or the conversational healer, such as someone from St. Mungo's, I'd prefer if you don't share the details of the Nam-Dumu Potion with them. Just direct them to get in contact with me if they need to talk."

Harmony nodded, still smiling but serious. "Is it – illegal, what we're doing?" Harmony asked. "I'm happy with it either way."

Madam Pomfrey gave her a stern but conspiratorial look. "These laws have yet to be written, and it might be best if we keep it that way."

Harmony nodded very seriously. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I will keep this information private."

After a moment's pause, she added, "Um, speaking of which. There's a friend of mine, Sophie. E's neither a girl nor a boy. Could you and the Gala help em as well?"

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Yes, indeed. There were several different options for people who were not male or female in Sumer, such as the gala-tura and the kur-jara. I'm sure I'll be able to help your friend. Sophie can just stop by here whenever it's convenient."

"Thank you so much, Madam Pomfrey," said Harmony, standing and leaning forward to hug her again.

"Of course, my dear," she replied, standing to hug Harmony warmly.

Chapter Text

Harmony breathed deeply. Once, twice, thrice. Hallways and gossiping portraits passed her by as she regained a sense of calm. Dursleys and boyishness and potions and secrets, it had all gotten rather overwhelming. But now she was going to the library, where she'd always felt safe at her old school. Now she was going to see her friends.

She turned a final corner and walked through the high double doors to the Hogwarts Library. She'd read about this place in Hogwarts, A History – the author had clearly spent a lot of time here. High, dense shelves stretched from wall to wall, each stacked with carefully organized tomes spanning the centuries, clearly well loved and well taken care of. The library had a woolly, muffled feel to it. A few students were quietly reading at desks between the shelves, but the space was nearly empty this early in the semester. Magical lights shone down from the high, vaulted ceiling – no flames in this room.

Off to the sides of the vast room stood lines of little doors. According to Hogwarts, A History, those were study rooms where people could talk over the books together. Going down the line, Harmony soon overheard giggles from behind one door and gave it a knock.

Hermione opened the door, and Sophie and Neville waved Harmony in.

Hermione and Sophie had found Hogwarts' collection of entertainment magazines, and most of the magazines were opened to pictures of various young men holding musical instruments. Meanwhile, Neville was reading through a book on haircuts.

Sophie smiled, a bit self-consciously.

"Well, you know what sort of looks I like."

"Absolutely! What've you found so far?", said Harmony, joining em to look at the magazines.

"Well, you see these bangs here?" e said, pointing out a boy in particular. His bangs swooped down dramatically towards one side, giving him a cool asymmetric look. "I think I like that, but I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my hair."

"I think that looks awesome, Sophie!"

"Oh, Harmony, could you find the book with the hair-growth spell you mentioned?" said Hermione, looking up from another magazine. "I'd love to start practicing and I never know how long it'll take to learn a new spell, but the sooner the better don't you think?"

Harmony smiled at Hermione's long quick sentences. It was Hermione's way of showing she was excited, and it was quite endearing.

"I'd love to! Be right back!"

Harmony set back off again, this time looking for the librarian she'd seen at the circulation desk. A pristinely-dressed witch with sharp angles to her hat. Madam Pince, a sign on her desk said. She was going through a stack of books and taking notes, but looked up as Harmony approached.

"Yes, can I help you? Potter, was it?", Madam Pince said quietly, almost a whisper.

"Yes, Harmony Potter, that's me. Um, I wanted help tracking down a reference in one of my school books?", said Harmony quietly, trying to match Madam Pince's quiet volume.

Madam Pince nodded and smiled as Harmony pulled out her copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. She flipped to her violet bookmark and pointed out the line to Madam Pince, turning the book around. In a section on fire magic, Gowshawk, the author, had mentioned that it would be helpful to brush up on hair-regrowing spells, and given a cryptic reference: Comp. Mag. 3, 23, 1837. Harmony hadn't been able to interpret it – Complete Mage? Published March 23rd, 1837? Hopefully Madam Pince knew what it meant.

Pince closed her eyes for a moment, tapping her quill gently. Then she opened them again.

"Compendium of Magic, 3rd edition, 23rd volume, page 1837."

Harmony started to thank her, but she wasn't done.

"You'll find it in the third aisle from the left, right-hand side, second bookcase from the end of the row. Around knee height."

"Thank you so much, Madam Pince!", Harmony whispered enthusiastically.

"Of course, my dear. Always happy to have an interested student. Just be sure to take good care of the book, and either put it back, drop it off with me, or check it out before you leave."

"Of course! Thanks again!"

Harmony went off in search of the volume, and found it almost immediately, one thick tome among a long line of them, with thin, almost translucent pages.

She carried it back to the group study room, and showed it off to the group.

"Of you found it!", said Hermione "Well done, I couldn't figure out that line in Gowshawk at all."

"Me neither, but Madam Pince knew exactly what it meant."

Together, they flipped to page 1837. It detailed a spell for lengthening the hair on one's head, with the incantation "Caput Hirsutus". As Hermione started practicing the wand motions and pronunciation, Harmony tried to think about what she wanted her hair to look like.

She was having trouble thinking about what her hair and face looked like. Her mind just went back to that one memory, from that one special day at school with Carrie and Anna. Before she'd had to hide her hair from the Dursleys. A nice day to remember. Maybe today could be a nice day too. Absentmindedly she twirled her hair, calming herself.

Sophie noticed her far-off look and asked "Are you thinking about what look you want?"

Harmony nodded, and Sophie slid a little handmirror across the table to her. "What are you thinking of?", e asked.

Harmony took a deep breath, then looked down into the mirror. A face looked back up at hers. It was hard a little hard to see it as hers. She'd been so scared of it becoming more boyish. But now, with Madam Pomfrey's help, it wouldn't get any worse? Another deep breath, another look in the mirror.

"I think I want longer pigtails, and less bushy ones. My hair grows pretty slowly, I've only had a month free from the weekly haircuts," she said.

"What do mean, weekly haircuts?", e asked.

"Oh, right. So my aunt Petunia would basically shave my head each weekend because she didn't like how long my hair was, and then that night the hair would pop back, " she said. Harmony sometimes forgot how unusual her life seemed to others. Well, no point hiding, especially among friends.

"Woah, cool! Magic hair!", Sophie answered.

Harmony smiled. She could trust Sophie to take things in a positive light.

"Thanks. Oh and I want to have proper bangs, straight-ish, down to my eyebrows maybe?"

Sophie sighed. "You're so confident about everything, you know just what you want." E sighed again. "I wish I wasn't so indecisive about everything."

"It's alright, Sophie," said Harmony, reaching out for eir hand. "Listen you're doing great. You found out about being a spivak, and you came up with your fuzzy hair. You're doing great already."

Sophie smiled a bit. "Thanks, Harmony. Maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit."

Harmony came around the table and gave Sophie a hug. It was a bit awkward with em sitting and her standing, but it was nice. Harmony sat down next to Sophie, and they started flipping through a magazine together.

"So. I know I like the swept bangs," e said, pointing at a band member as they flip. "But I feel like the fuzzball is too soft and I want something with a bit of an edge, you know?"

"I get that," Harmony said, nodding.

After flipping through it some more, one of the headshots caught Sophie's eye.

"Check out this!", said Sophie. There was a punk-looking woman with the hair on one side of her head cut really short, contrasting with the rest of her hair.

"Oh wow, that looks super cool!", said Harmony, seeing how excited Sophie looked.

"Okay, okay, I've got an idea. So I'll have this side cut real short," said Sophie, gesturing to the right side of her head, "and then the bangs will cross to the other side, and the rest of the hair will be more fluffy, maybe like a finger's length outward."

Looking up from the book to em, Harmony could imagine it, and smiled. "That's so cool! I bet it'll look awesome! And remember, if it doesn't work on the first try, we can try again. The spell says it's safe to be used repeatedly, because hair isn't alive."

Sophie smiled broadly, the biggest smile Harmony'd ever seen on em.

With everything figured out, the four of them checked out their books and magazines and headed off to the Gryffindor tower.

As they headed up Hogwarts' winding stairs, Harmony talked quietly to Sophie. "Hey, when we're free, there's something I want to tell you about, about some gender stuff. Maybe we can talk about it tonight?"

Sophie tilted her head curiously, but nodded. "I'd love to."

As they reached the tower, they ran into Ron, back from his trip.

The group headed into the alternate first-year room on the ground level of the tower, while Neville headed up to his room to get haircutting supplies. Hermione and Harmony compared notes on their hair growth spell, while Sophie started copying them and practicing. After getting filled in, Ron set up a chair by a dresser with a mirror, and cleared out space to get everything set up.

Neville returned with scissors, a comb, a bowl of warm water and a towel. Harmony took her seat in front of the dresser, and looked at herself in the mirror. This face is her, mostly. Maybe a little more, today.

All of her friends crowded around her, and she saw their encouragement in the mirror.

She took a deep breath, and pointed her wand at herself. Embracing the magic of her hair. Embracing herself.

"Caput Hirsutus", she incanted. Staring at herself, staring at her future.

The hair gushed out of her head, flowing down and out all the way the ground.

Harmony looked around, nervous, a bit scared. There was a moment of silence, then Neville started giggling a bit. Sophie started giggling too.

Harmony took a deep breath, and embraced that too. "Looks like I'm just too good at it," she said, smiling. Everyone laughed a bit, congratulating her. Friends. She had friends. She was safe here.

Neville went to work, discussing the plans with Harmony, cutting away the wild excess, then rinsing the hair and getting more precise. It was tricky to target the right length while it was all straightened out from being wet, but they navigated it carefully together. Once the sides were looking good, Neville took a pause for nerves while Hermione cast charms to clean things up.

Once Neville had calmed down and built some confidence, he started making the bangs, very carefully. Harmony held very still, to make things easier for him. Before long, it was all done. Harmony patted her hair dry and looked in the mirror, carefully putting her four hairbands into place. She couldn't help but smile and smile and smile.

"Thank you, Neville! It's beautiful!"

She stood and turned to hug Neville, who accepted with a shy smile.

"Well done! Beautiful!" came the shouts from the other three.

Before long, it was Sophie's turn. Ron got a fresh bowl of water, while Sophie and Neville conferred on the plan.

Harmony could see that Sophie was breathing hard, eir heart was pounding.

"Hey, Sophie, it's going to be alright."

Sophie was staring at eir reflection in the mirror.

"It's such a big step, it's going to change how people see me."

Harmony took Sophie's hand, and e squeezed her back.

"They'll see you how you are."

Sophie nodded uncertainly. "Keep holding my hand?"

Harmony gave em a squeeze.

Neville started with the back of eir hair, bringing it down to the fluffy two-inch length. Hermione had the magazine out, giving Neville tips, while Ron gave encouragement. Soon Neville had the whole fluffy area down to a uniform length.

Next, he went to work cutting the right side close to Sophie's head.

"A clipper would be better for this, but it'll be fine if we just take it slow."

Sophie nodded, no words coming out.

Neville stepped back, and Sophie ran eir hand through the shorter, denser fuzz. E smiled. Harmony gave em a squeeze. "You look marvellous."

Sophie gave another nodded, a little calmer now.

"Ok, the bangs are the trickiest, we need to go one step at a time."

Neville conferred with Hermione and Ron to discuss plans and look at the photo in the magazine.

"How's it going?", Sophie asked the room, not looking at the dresser.

"Do you want to look in the mirror?", answered Harmony gently.

Sophie shook eir head.

"It's going just fine. You look good."

Harmony gave eir hand another squeeze.

"Alright, we've got a plan. I'm going to cut the bangs at different lengths, longest on the right, shorter to the left, so it'll look good with the sweep."

Sophie gave another nod, getting a little more into it.

Neville went at it carefully, bringing the bangs to just the right length, then carefully moving it into place.

Once it was all done, Sophie toweled off eir hair, and fluffed up the back while combing over the front. Once e was ready, e gave Harmony's hand another squeeze.

"Ready to look in the mirror?"

"Yeah."

E looked, feeling eir hair, waving eir head around. E smiled.

"I look so cool!", e said, like e could hardly believe what e was saying.

E stood up quickly and hugged Harmony, then Neville, then the whole group joined in.

Chapter Text

As dinner wrapped up, Harmony said goodbye to her friends, then made her way to the head table. She played nervously with her pigtails as she walked, trying to calm down. She took a deep breath.

She'd be meeting her grandparents! People who maybe would actually be nice! Dumbledore had suggested them, which wasn't a great sign, but he'd said McGonogall and Fawkes had talked him into to it, so maybe that was better?

She donned her cloak as she reached the head table. Professor McGonogall smiled and stood up from the table, controlled and graceful in her movements as always.

"Follow me, Harmony. I've been looking forward to today."

Harmony smiled nervously and followed McGonogall out of the Great Hall. As they reached the quiet of the entrance room and its marble staircase, Harmony took a deep breath and asked a very important question.

"Professor McGonogall, are my grandparents nice people?"

McGonogall paused and turned, her emerald robes sweeping around behind her.

"Why, yes, Harmony, yes they are, or they were when I last met them. Daisy and Michael Evans, they were sweet and loving parents to your mother Lily. Why do you ask?"

"Because – because my Aunt – she –". Harmony ran out of steam, her voice choking off.

"Because they're her parents?"

Harmony nodded, a dry lump in her throat.

McGonogall crouched down and offered Harmony a hug. Harmony accepted, beginning to cry. Crying is Ok. It means you still know how to feel.

"I met your grandparents when they visited to discuss your mother's studies at Hogwarts. They were sweet and caring and I could see their love for your mother and her love for them. They are nothing like your aunt and uncle."

Harmony cried harder and hugged McGonogall tighter. It didn't really seem possible, a place to live with family that wasn't them. But McGonogall believed it was possible, and maybe that was enough.

After a time, Harmony nodded, and the two of them set off again. As they left the heavy wooden front doors of Hogwarts, McGonogall said "Now, it's not quick to enter or exit Hogwarts, so we have a bit of a walk ahead of us."

The dusk was quiet, cold, and purple, with a few dark clouds in the sky. Harmony had to avoid thinking about the future, just follow McGonogall and let her legs carry her. How would her grandparents react to her being a girl?

She tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. It was just her and the sky, still and quiet, as the rest of the world passed them by. She took a deep breath, and another.

Together, she and McGonogall reached the entrance gate to the Hogwarts grounds. A squat stone figure in a stone cloak stood on a plinth at the center of the double gates. The figure swiveled to face the two of them.

"Hail, Professor," came the gravelly voice. "And traveler," they continued, nodding to Harmony. Harmony smiled. Nice people, she could get used to that about Hogwarts. And her future, hopefully.

Just outside the gates, there was a squat little stone house with a tall chimney. McGonogall led them inside. The house had just a single room, dominated by a massive fireplace on the far wall. The fireplace was huge, taller than her, taller even than McGonogall.

"We will be traveling by Floo powder," said McGonogall. "I presume you have not used it before?"

Harmony shook her head. "Madam Pomfrey mentioned it, but she didn't say how it worked."

McGonogall conjured a flame in the fireplace, roaring, comforting, bright yellows and oranges.

Harmony smiled. It reminded her of Fawkes.

"Now, to use the Floo, take a pinch of this powder," McGonogall said, pointing at a old, dusty pot of sparkling powder on the mantle. "The flames will turn green, which will make them safe to enter."

Harmony nodded. Powerful magic indeed, then.

"Speak the destination – Evans Residence – and step into the flames, and you will be transported to their fireplace. Keep your arms by your sides, your eyes closed, and it might be best if you hold your breath for your first trip."

Harmony nodded, wide-eyed. It was a lot to take in.

"I will send someone with you, who can let me know if anything goes wrong."

McGonogall closed her eyes for a moment, then whispered a spell too softly for Harmony to catch the incantation. She brandished her wand, and out popped three tiny silver cats, almost like little ghost cats. The cats ran around and on top of each other, full of joy and enthusiasm in the warm old shed.

McGonogall carefully scooped up one of the small cats, petted its back for a moment, and then handed it to Harmony. Harmony cradled the cat in her arms, where it purred contentedly.

"You can put Athenia in the pocket of your robes, and she'll come and let me know if anything goes wrong, alright?"

Harmony nodded, smiling. She appreciated that McGonogall thought about safety more than most wizards seemed to – perhaps it was the mindset of a Transfiguration professor.

"I'll go through after you," said McGonogall, nodding slightly.

Harmony took a deep breath, then took a pinch of powder and threw it into the flames. The flames flashed green, a very specific shade of green. A shade from her nightmares. Nightmares of green death, inevitable, onrushing, inescapable.

Her heart racing, her mind feeling very far from her body, she started to speak the destination – "Evans" – but she couldn't get any farther before she was too choked up to speak.

Athenia mewled and turned around in her pocket, and Harmony felt a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, dear?", asked McGonogall.

Harmony took a deep breath, then another. Crying is Ok. Crying means you still know how to feel.

Once she was feeling a bit better, she quietly talked about the color from her nightmares. Of how it reminded her of death, somehow.

McGonogall nodded, and tapped her chin. She sighed, then spoke. "If you're having these nightmares, then you should know why. The Floo's color is uncomfortably similar to that of the Killing Curse, which was You Know Who's favorite murder weapon. The investigators determined that he used that curse to kill your parents."

Harmony nodded sadly, wrapping her arms around herself. Still, it was better to know.

"And there's no reason you should have to be reminded of that. Colorvaria", McGonogall incanted, pointing at handful of powder. It sparkled a bit differently, a bit darker, a bit warmer. She retrieved a glass flask from her robes and poured in the powder, then handed it to Harmony with a smile.

Harmony took the flask, then smiled and gave McGonogall a hug.

Harmony took another deep breath, checked that Athenia was doing alright in her pocket, and stepped in front of the fireplace once more.

She took a pinch of powder from her flask, tossed it in once more, and this time the yellow-orange flames flashed to a deeper red, like Gryffindor crimson. "Evans Residence", she spoke, then stepped into the flames, not an ounce of fear at approaching the heat.

She closed her eyes as she entered, and held her breath. There was warmth, intense but not painful, and a feeling of fast motion, wooshing this way and that.

When she came to a halt, she opened her eyes and stepped out, into a different and unfamiliar house. Athenia jumped out of her pocket and into the fireplace, disappearing from view.

Two older people sat in armchairs in front of her, warm smiles and grey-white hair. The woman – Daisy Evans – her grandmother – sat in a yellow armchair on the left, while the man, Michael Evans, her grandfather, sat in the purple chair on the right. A wide brown couch spanned the far wall opposite Harmony.

Both grandparents wore a shirt and pants in the nonmagical tradition, but with vibrant colors that seemed influenced by the magical style. Daisy was covered neck to foot in huge bright flowers, yellows, greens, and whites. Michael wore soft swirls of nighttime blacks and blues and lavender. The edges of the room were covered in shelves and cupboards full of collections and knick-knacks, little dolls and photographs and souvenirs.

Neither reacted to the burst of red flames that accompanied Harmony's arrival, and each smiled to see her arrive. The smiles seemed tight, hesitant, however.

"You must be – um – Lily's child?", asked Daisy, awkwardly.

"Have a seat on the couch," said Michael, a bit more warmly. "I'll make tea."

"I'll fetch us some biscuits," added Daisy.

Not like the Dursleys, then. That was something to take joy in, Harmony supposed. As both adults stood and left the room, there was another flash of red light as McGonogall appeared. They both greeted her in passing as they left, and McGonogall took a seat next to Harmony on the couch.

Harmony was shaking, slightly. Something wasn't feeling quite right, but it was hard to say what. McGonogall quietly took her hand as they sat. Harmony looked around the room, studying the details, trying to see if she could imagine living here. It looked nice and orderly, but then so had the Dursleys', whenever she wasn't in view.

Michael and Daisy bustled back in with the tea and biscuits, then resumed their seats in their yellow and purple armchairs. Harmony sipped carefully at her tea as she tried to calm herself enough to begin to speak.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Daisy. "And lovely to see you again, Minerva, of course."

"A pleasure to meet you as well," said Michael.

"We'd no idea you were alive, we were ever so happy to find out," said Daisy.

The two of them seemed to speak with one mind, alternating rapidly back and forth. With them on opposite sides of Harmony, it was dizzying to keep up with.

"We'd cut contact with Petunia,"

"Well, it was mutual, really,"

"Yes, after the way she and Vernon had behaved at Lily and James' wedding."

"Incredibly rude, they treated us like we were diseased,"

"To say nothing of how they treated the magical guests!"

"And we say that we cut contact, but neither of them wanted anything to do with us, either."

Something felt off. It felt like they were avoiding looking at her, talking to the Harmony in their minds rather than the Harmony on the couch. Harmony glanced at McGonogall, who looked mystified.

Harmony took a deep breath. "You seem on edge about something."

"Yes, well, the thing is, we don't quite know what to make of you," said Michael.

"And, in particular, I don't know how to put this delicately, but, when you were were born, you were a boy," said Daisy.

"We visited you and your parents only a couple days after you were born," said Michael.

Harmony's heart was pounding in her throat. She felt like she should say something to redirect the conversation but she could barely keep breathing steadily and their words kept coming.

"And when we last saw you, for you first birthday, you were a boy then too," said Daisy.

"Oh and Dumbledore said that your name's still Harry, that nothing's changed," said Michael.

Harmony groaned internally. Harry as short for Harmony had been great when it meant the Dursleys were accidentally getting it right, but it'd just become more and more of a pain. Because when her history was blank and unknown, just specks that the Dursleys had let slip, her story had been hers to write. Harry could be short for anything.

"But we saw in the newspaper that you're – you're dressing as a girl?", asked Daisy, as if she couldn't see that Harmony was right in front of them dressed as herself, as a girl, here and now.

"And you're calling yourself a girl?", asked Michael.

"We just don't understand what's going on," said Daisy.

Her history wasn't hers to write anymore. It was theirs. They knew her past and she didn't. And in their story of the past, she'd always been a boy and her coming out was an aberration from that. And Hogwarts thought she was a boy. And Harry was obviously a boy's name, who did she think she was fooling. And –

She was going cold and still and empty. Numb hands and pounding ears. Unable to cry. Unable to move except to shake in place. She was feeling farther and farther from the situation, from this place, trying to formulate something to say in response. Her internal monologue, these words, this voice, it sounded more and more like someone else talking. A boy talking. The boy they all thought they saw.

"Perhaps we could pause," said McGonogall. "I think Miss Harmony could use a moment to compose herself," with pointed emphasis.

There was a long, long silence. Harmony twirled her hands around each other, the minimal motion all she was capable of. It helped her slowly feel a bit more present, a bit more herself. Before long, she managed to start to cry. She could feel heavy eyes not looking at her. And crying was right.

When she felt ready, she took a long deep breath. It caught in her throat from the tears. She tried again, and the breath came clearer this time.

"It's not complicated.", she began. Short sentences. Forceful, sad, a bit angry. "I am a girl. You didn't know, back then. My parents didn't know. But you know now. Because I'm telling you. I'm a girl. My name is Harmony. I wear these clothes. This hair. This is me. This is the only me there is. Or ever was."

"But when you were born, we saw –", started Daisy.

"I don't care what you saw!", interrupted Harmony. "I don't you care what you thought it meant! I know who I am!"

Michael spoke up to try to smooth things over. "We trust you, dear," he said gently. "You know what's right for you, and you've had a difficult childhood so far, and we're here to try and take good care of you."

He finally looked at Harmony, really saw her. He smiled. "You look a lot like Lily did, at your age. Except your hair's as curly as James'."

"Yes! We want to take good care of you," said Daisy rapidly. "And of course I don't mind, we don't mind at all how you dress and how you describe yourself. But isn't it dangerous to be – to call yourself a girl when people think you're a boy?"

"To be a trans girl, you mean?", said Harmony, trying to take a bit more control of the conversation.

"I suppose," said Daisy uncertainly. "But you must know that there are people who will think the worst of you, and there are bad people in this country. You could get attacked, you could get hurt. Wouldn't it be safer to just not do all of this?", she said, waving her hand at Harmony, still not quite looking at her.

"Or just do this when you're somewhere safe, like here at home?", she continued with barely a pause, without a trace of irony in her voice. "If we're going to take care of you, we need to keep you safe, even if that means you can't to all the things you want to some times."

Harmony sighed. The words felt so fake, just excuses to justify how her grandmother already wanted to treat her. She took another deep breath, twirled her hands more. She was feeling a bit better, now that they were talking about the future, rather than the past. Even if it was more fake.

"The sort of people who would attack me, would attack me anyways, for what happened to Voldemort." Michael and Daisy both gasped a little at the name.

"I can't avoid being the target of that sort of people no matter what I do. What I need right now are two things. I need to be myself, and I need a family. Now, it remains to be seen: Can you be my family? Because I'm going to be myself no matter what."

There was another long pause. Both grandparents were looking at her properly now, as Harmony looked back and forth between the two of them, her face set.

Chapter Text

Harmony's final question still rang in the air, unanswered: "Can you be my family? Because I'm going to be myself no matter what."

After a long pause, Michael broke the silence. "I think we can be. I'm ready to – to meet the real you, Harmony."

Harmony smiled, melting a bit, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Thank you, Michael. Grandpa," she said, looking at him and only him. "I'd like to be myself with you."

Michael nodded. "Would you like to hear some stories about Lily and James?" Daisy nodded along, her face softening a bit.

Harmony gasped at the mention of her parent's names. "Yes, yes I'd like that. Happy stories, maybe?", Harmony said, glancing nervously at Daisy. Was she going to pick up where she'd left off?

Daisy smiled. "Of course. Happy stories sound nice. And I'm sorry to – to have led with such a – I'm sorry. Let's talk about nice things and remember happier times, for a while."

All three of them sighed. The room was quiet except for the scratch of McGonogall's quill – she was marking a stack of parchments while clearly still listening in.

"I'd like that," said Harmony, breaking the silence.

"Do you remember that time the four of us took a vacation to Switzerland?", said Michael, looking towards Daisy.

"Oh, that was so charming, with the little chateau up in the Alps," said Daisy, smiling to herself. "I think I have a photograph around here somewhere, let me take a look."

As Daisy stood and started bustling through cupboards, Michael said "Lily always loved to spend time in nature, looking at all the wild ferns and herbs and flowers along the paths."

Another sigh, for Lily's memory.

Daisy returned with an aged photo album, the people in the photos still moving a bit, but slower, as if they were clockworks with they springs wound down. She flipped to the photos of the trip, and Harmony couldn't look anywhere else.

Her parents, like real people, with a younger Michael and Daisy. Lily smiling a bit shyly through long hair swept over one eye, James' thick curls that Harmony had inherited. Not a publicity photo on a book cover but real people, not too long ago. Family.

The evening wound on, and the conversation stayed in gentler, more peaceful territory. On family and the past. It was emotional, thinking about all that was and couldn't have been and wouldn't be any more. Harmony cried a few times to hear that her parents were people, with hobbies and joys of their own.

And she cried a bit for another reason. Michael and Daisy didn't know what was best for her. She'd had to grow up too fast to put her faith in someone else, just because they'd lived more. Wisdom doesn't just come from age, it only comes from experience. And neither of them had any experience in being trans.

But they had plenty of experience in being family, and she had no experience in having a family. So her grandparents could be her family, maybe. It was worth a try, or two. And if it didn't work out, she'd build her own family.

And this house could be home, maybe. Same as Hogwarts. As much as anywhere could be home, anywhere had ever been home.

As the conversation wound down, Michael asked "Harmony, dear, would you like a tour of the house?"

"This house – well the plan is for it to be your house too, after all.", added Daisy.

"Thank you, grandpa, I'd love a tour," Harmony said, still somewhat reserved.

The ground floor was living room, kitchen, a study. Upstairs, there was the grandparent's bedroom and – and her room. It was simple, just a bed, a window, a chair and a desk. But it was hers?

"Here's your room, Harmony – Dumbledore said you can come by each weekend, if you like. We can decorate it together, make it yours?"

Harmony nodded, happily, imagining putting up flowers and colorful knitting, making it her own. The name Dumbledore stuck in her attention, though.

A reminder of the real reason she was here – the vagaries of magic and Dumbledore's guesswork.

But still, a room of her own? She'd only had that for one day, when the Dursleys shuffled her around to avoid the letters. And that wasn't her room, not really, it was Dudley's second room. And she'd had her room at her the Leaky Cauldron, but she'd just been staying there, she couldn't make it her own.

She had an idea. Her grandparent's house wasn't too far from Little Whinging where the Dursleys lived, only half an hour's drive. Which meant they weren't far from Carrie and Anna!

Turning to Michael, Harmony asked, "Could I have my friends from school over? Nonmagical school, I mean, their names are Carrie and Anna? I've never been able to – spend time with friends at home, and I didn't think I'd get to see them while I was at Hogwarts."

"Of course, dear!", said Michael with enthusiasm. "We'd love to meet any of your friends. So Petunia didn't let you have friends over?"

"Oh, there's a lot she didn't let me do. I'll tell you all about it sometime, but not today.", Harmony said, shivering a bit.

Michael smiled, a bit sadly, and sighed. "I'm sorry about the conversation downstairs. I told your grandmother that she should wait on that until we'd gotten to know each other better, but she was determined. But it's clear that this is what's best for you. You look so happy whenever – whenever I use your name, Harmony."

Harmony smiled, then smiled wider when she realized that she was doing what her grandfather described. At least he got it.

Still, there was a question that needed to be asked. Harmony crossed to the chair in her new room, taking a seat. This could get heavy.

"Thanks, grandpa, I really appreciate it. I really appreciate you.", she said, looking up at him. Her first family, really. "Um, but why didn't you do anything when she was doing that, going at me like that?"

Michael sighed again, his shoulders seeming to shrink in on him, his night-colored clothes seeming a bit less bright.

"To be honest, I didn't feel like I had all the answers, and I knew she wasn't asking the right questions, but I didn't – I didn't know what I should do."

Harmony nodded. "I get it. I feel that way too, sometimes. Like when I was signing autographs in Flourish and Blotts, there were so many strange questions."

Michael nodded. "That book signing was why we found out you were alive, and that you - that you're a girl. Interesting way to find out," he said.

"I'd've told you directly, if I knew you existed. But –"

"But Dumbledore, yes. There's lots more to discuss there, perhaps once –", his voice dropping to a whisper, "McGonogall's not around."

Harmony nodded, seriously. Changing the subject so as not to give things away, she said, "Speaking of Flourish and Blotts, I found a book that really helped with some of those questions about me being a girl. Maybe it'd help you in being more confident at backing me up?"

Michael smiled wider, eyes crinkling. "So studious. Just like Lily. Yes, I'd love that."

Harmony pulled out from an inner pocket of her robes the pair of bookends that Madam Villanelle had gifted her, after the book signing where she announced herself to the world. She placed them on her bed and turned the crank, turned it and turned it, as Michael smiled fondly.

Soon enough, she had all the books expanded, and pulled out Nonnormative genders and sexualities. It was often hard to read, but it covered a lot of topics around being trans well, and in a lot of detail.

"Would you like to borrow this, grandpa? It talks about being trans – that's me, I'm trans, as in people guessed wrong about whether or not I'm a girl – and there's a chapter on "supporting trans people in your life" that I thought might be helpful."

Michael took the book at flipped through it briefly, then tucked it under his arm. "Thank you very much, Harmony. I'll read through it carefully and consult with you when I don't understand. And I'll do my best to only ask when necessary, and in a supportive way. Does that sound good?"

Harmony nodded, happily. "Thank you, grandpa." She paused for a moment. "I'm sure there'll be more conversations with Daisy, but we'll handle them together, right?"

"Definitely, darling."

Tour complete, important conversation complete, they returned to the living room. Daisy and McGonogall looked up from a conversation, though Harmony wasn't sure what they'd been talking about.

"It's getting late," said McGonogall, "I suppose we should be off? But before that, let's make a plan for regular visits, so you can all get to know each other. Shall we say Saturdays at 1pm, you two can pick her up from Hogwarts?"

Michael and Daisy nodded their assent, and McGonogall told them the Floo details.

"You can use the Floo?" Harmony asked, curious again.

"Yes, the magic's in the powder, not the user," said Michael.

"We're on the network," said Daisy.

"Oh, lovely! Um, Michael, can I make some phone calls about the visit we discussed?", asked Harmony.

Michael nodded, while Daisy asked, "What's that about?"

"Oh, Harmony wanted to have some friends over at her next visit, they live nearby."

"Oh lovely!"

After Harmony invited Carrie and Anna over for Saturday, she got ready to go.

As she stood by McGonogall, by the fireplace, Harmony took at last look at her grandparents' faces, Michael's crinkled smile, Daisy's nervous half-smile. They were family, even if things weren't perfect. Even if things weren't necessarily good.

She'd try out having them as family. Michael seemed really nice, except maybe when he was with Daisy. Daisy - well, maybe she'd get better. Or maybe Harmony'd have to run away again. Nothing seemed scary anymore, not after the Dursleys.

She gave Michael a goodbye hug, and settled on a handshake with Daisy.

"I'm glad to have you for grandparents," Harmony said, cautious but honest.

"We're glad to have you for a grand - uh - child," said Daisy.

"You're a lovely young lady, and we're looking forward to seeing you again soon," said Michael, more firmly.

Harmony smiled to him in particular, then took a pinch of Floo powder from her special vial, as well as Athenia, the ghostly cat, which McGonogall conjured again. With a flash of scarlet flame, Harmony was back in the tiny little shack.

She sighed deeply, releasing tension she'd been holding for hours by now. McGonogall appeared in her own flash of scarlet, and Harmony handed back Athenia.

A bit of lightness in her step, Harmony led the way out the door. Time to go back home.

Chapter Text

As they settled in for the night in their alternate dorm, Harmony made her way over to Sophie's bed, and sat down next to em, in eir desk chair.

"Sophie, is it alright if we talk a bit?", Harmony asked softly. Hermione had already drifted off, but Harmony couldn't sleep and Sophie was still up as well.

"Hmm? Sure, what's up Harmony?"

"It's about my grandparents."

"Oh, how did meeting them go? You were talking about it all morning, but then I don't know if you said how it went."

"Well, um," Hamony sighed. She had been really excited to meet them. "They weren't too on board with me being trans, I guess. My grandma Daisy especially.", Harmony said, folding in on herself.

Sophie rolled over to the edge of eir bed, sat up, and hugged Harmony across her slim shoulders. "Hey, I'm so sorry," e said.

"And like, she didn't come right out and say I was wrong, but – but –"

"It's worse when they hide it, sometimes, because it's harder to call them on it, or feel mad at them properly.", said Sophie, squeezing Harmony's shoulders gently.

"Exactly! She was going on about how she was just looking out for my safety from those scary people who might be mean to me, while being mean to me at the same time!"

"Oh, what miserable old git," said Sophie, pouring anger into the final world.

That drew a bit of a chuckle from Harmony. She'd never seen Sophie get heated before, but it felt nice to have a friend stand up for her. Like her grandfather Michael hadn't.

"And my grandpa, he went right along with it, toned down, just asking questions, but supporting her. And then when we're talking alone he backs me up and is supportive, which I appreciate, but how do I know which is the real him?"

"Ugh, why do people have to be like that?" said Sophie, nodding along.

"And I feel bad even complaining about it, because they're so, so much better than the Dursleys," she shivered, at the barest memory of them. "And because people I like, like Hagrid and McGonogall, they seem to really like them."

"No, I get it. I have trouble being mad at my parents when they completely take it the wrong way when it comes to trying to tell them about me."

"Oh yeah?" said Harmony, breathing a bit calmer now, some of the tension easing.

"Yeah, they'll listen when I explain about e and Spivak and all that, and they'll nod along and say they get it, and then they'll try to shove me in a dress for another wedding or whatever, and it's all over again", said Sophie, rolling eir eyes.

"Ugh", said Harmony, running out of anything else to say.

"Ugh", Sophie agreed, smiling a bit.

Harmony leaned in to Sophie's hug, for a long, long while, resting her head on eir shoulder.

"Thanks, Sophie."

"Happy to be here for you, Harmony."

"Oh, there's something else I wanted to tell you about. About – trans stuff"

"Oh? What's up?"

"So apparently there's this special ancient potion that Madam Pomfrey, the nurse knows about. Some ancient wixen came up with it, and it means that I won't have to – grow a beard and get tall and that stuff."

"Wait that's so cool! I didn't know that was possible."

"Me neither! I'm starting tomorrow and I'm really excited."

"Awesome! Wait, so –"

"Yeah?"

"Do they have that for spivaks too?"

"So, I think so, that's what Madam Pomfrey said anyways, you can drop by and she'll discuss it with you.", Harmony said. Seeing Sophie look hesitant, she said, "Or we can go together, if that would help?"

Sophie smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that," e said carefully.

Harmony and Sophie stayed holding each other, close and comfortable. It was a long time before they were each ready to sleep.

The next morning at breakfast, after the first dose of a certain special secret potion, all anyone could talk about was the beginning of flying lessons. Ron and Sophie were talking excitedly about Quidditch, the rules and strategy and their favorite teams, and kids from other tables were joining in. Malfoy from Slytherin and Seamus from Gryffindor were swapping stories about getting into trouble on broomsticks when they were younger.

Neville, Hermione, and Harmony were all listening with rapt attention. None of them had ever been on a broom before – Hermione and Harmony because they'd been raised nonmagical, and Neville because his grandmother had never even let him try. Hermione had tried to feel included by sharing flying tips she'd gotten from a library book, but it soon became clear that there was no substitute for practical experience.

The basic structure of Quidditch seemed a bit like handball, which Harmony'd played in gym class. She never liked gym, and she thought it might be because they'd usually split up the 'boys' and the 'girls' for different teams, and of course they put her in the wrong one, looking back on it.

But Quidditch was gender-integrated, which was nice. There were three people, the Chasers, who carried a big red ball, and tried to throw it through one of the hoops. Then there was the Keeper, who guarded the hoops and tried to stop the ball from going through. So far, just like handball but with brooms. Then, to make it interesting, there were these two cannonballs which flew around and tried to attack people, and there were two people, the Beaters, who tried to redirect them towards the other team. A bit painful, but not too hard to dodge according to Sophie.

Where it got interesting was the Seeker. They had two jobs. If their team was ahead or close, they could try to catch this little tiny ball, the snitch. This would end the game, so it was important to be good at it. But if your team was behind, catching the snitch wouldn't let you win. So instead, the Seeker got to join any of the other roles they wanted to, to help their team catch up. A second Keeper, third Beater, or fourth Chaser. According to Ron, it was always exciting to see if a team could catch up enough to get back in the snitch hunt.

Harmony thought it all sounded a bit complicated, but that's how most sports were before you got used to them. All the kids at their part of the table were complaining about how first-year students basically never got to play on the House teams, but there was a junior varsity system too, so Harmony didn't see what the big deal was.

She just was excited to learn to fly. She'd watched Hedwig fly almost every day. The soaring weightlessness, the complete freedom, the peace and solitude, the endless space. It was as far from a cupboard as anything she could possibly imagine.

The discussion of Quidditch and Harmony's daydream were interrupted by the arrival of the mail owls.

As usual, Malfoy's eagle owl brought him a package of sweets from home, which he showed off to his friends. Did they not realize that you could ask the kitchen staff for extra desert?

A barn owl brought Neville a little brown-paper package. He opened it and showed the group a glass ball, basically a big marble, with white smoke inside.

"It's a Remembrall!" said Neville, his eyes lighting up. "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh..." He suddenly looked nervous, because the Remembrall started glowing scarlet, "you've forgotten something. Well, at least it's working," he said, smiling nervously.

As the group joined together to try to brainstorm what Neville'd forgotten, he put down the Remembrall, slightly to one side. When he looked back a minute later, it was gone.

Everyone looked around the table, but they soon heard snickering from a clique of older kids down the Gryffindor table, probably third or fourth year. Looking over, one of them was holding Neville's Rememberall. Harmony and Ron both stood to confront them – maybe Harmony could be Neville's Anna – but the older kid just tossed the marble to another kid in the clique, who tossed it on to someone at the Slytherin table. They all started jeering at Neville –

"Oops, looks like someone's forgotten where he put his memory ball"

"Oh, is the ickle baby gonna start crying?"

Some of the first year kids started jeering too, Malfoy and Crabbe from Slytherin and Dean Thomas from Gryffindor. Neville had his hands over his ears and Hermione and Sophie were comforting him, even as all the mean kids kept throwing the Rememberall around and Harmony and Ron tried ineffectually to retrieve it.

After an unpleasantly long time, some of the Professors took notice. It seemed like Professor Snape saw what was happening, but just turned up his nose and walked the other direction. Professor McGonogall was the next to take notice, and she shut the whole affair down and got Neville his marble back.

Still, breakfast and the upcoming excitement were entirely ruined.

After breakfast, the Gryffindors and Slytherins hurried down the front steps to the open grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the vibrant green grass rippled under their feet as the crossed the sloping lawns to a flatter area.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, had short gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. Sophie whispered that e loved the look. Madam Hooch had laid out twenty broomsticks in a circle on the ground. Harmony had heard Fred and George Weasley, Ron's older brothers, complain about the school brooms, saying some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew a bit to the left.

Harmony didn't care, though. She was just excited to fly. She'd told Hedwig the day's plans, and she could see her owl circling far, far overhead, keeping an eye on the lesson.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?", barked Madam Hooch. "Everybody stand by a broomstick. Come on, there's plenty for everyone."

Harmony stood by the tail end of a broom, then copied Ron and moved over next to it, on the right-hand side. Her broom was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. A proper witch's broom, then. Like in the fairy tales.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"

"UP!" they shouted in unison.

Harmony's broom came up halfway and whacked her in the side, then flopped back down. Lots of people were having trouble.

Wait – had Madam Hooch said to use their right hands? But Ron'd used his left, and he was one of the only people who'd succeeded on the first try. Harmony had an idea.

"Hey Ron, are you left handed?"

Ron nodded, looking happy that his experience had payed off.

Harmony crossed around her broom and tried again from the other side. This time, the broom jumped up, no problem.

Most people had gotten it by now, but a few were still having trouble. It seemed like the brooms responded to how you asked, not just what you asked. Neville in particular had a quaver in his voice that hinted he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Maybe his Gran hadn't been the only reason he'd never gone near a broom before.

Still, he was starting to get frustrated at the broom's unresponsiveness, and that only made it harder. When Hooch wasn't looking, Sophie scooped up Neville's broom and handed it to him, which he accepted with a wide smile.

Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harmony wasn't a huge fan of the placement of the broom between her legs, but she sort of laid her torso across the broom and it was fine.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two – one – WHEEEEET."

Harmony pushed off, and the ground melted away below her feet. She was flying, really flying! She leaned forward, mindful of the heady rush, and landed again smoothly. Around her, the experienced flyers were all showing off and doing little tricks before they came down – Ron and Malfoy were two of the last to land. Neville hadn't moved an inch, true to form.

A hoot came from high above, and Harmony saw Hedwig diving. The snowy-white owl landed quietly on Harmony's shoulder as she walked back to the circle, and they nuzzled up against each other briefly.

Hooch gave them a significant look, and Hedwig took off into the sky again, looking back as Harmony waved goodbye.

More hoots sounded down for the rest of the lesson, as Harmony and the rest of the students got more and more comfortable with flying, and learned different postures and techniques for controlling and steering the broom.

Far too soon, the lesson was done. Asking Madam Hooch, Harmony found out that she could check out one of the school brooms and go flying whenever she liked, as long as it was one of the ones that was charmed to stay close to the ground and in the designated learner's area.

She couldn't stop smiling as she joined the others for the lovely walk back up to the castle for the rest of the day's classes. She loved flying. When she flew, she was free.

Chapter Text

At lunch, Hagrid came down from the raised table where the professors and staff sat, came over to the end of the Gryffindor table, and waved Harmony over.

"Hi there, Harmony, how you doing there?", the big man smiled down at her.

"Lots been happening the last couple days, but it's going real well now," she said, looking back at her four friends.

"Wonderful, that's just wonderful! Listen, I was thinking maybe you come over to my house later, we can have some tea and catch up?"

"That'd be lovely! And we can talk about knitting, I've just started a project, maybe you can give me some tips?"

Hagrid's face crinkled in a wide smile. "That'd be right nice, Harmony. Come by after classes? You know the way to my place alright?"

Harmony nodded. "It's by the flying learner's field? We were there today for our first lesson!" Hagrid nodded, smiling again. With another glance back at her friends, she remembered something from the train. "Is it Ok if my friend Ron joins us? He wanted to meet you."

Hagrid smiled even wider. "This year's Weasley? Of course, more's the merrier!"

After the rest of the day's classes, Harmony and Ron made their way across the grounds. Ron was almost bouncing with excitement at meeting someone who'd known Voldemort, he couldn't stop whispering about it to Harmony. Harmony was just happy that her friends were meeting each other.

Hagrid lived in a small, solid-looking wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest, smoke rising from its chimney. A crossbow and a thick pair of galoshes were just outside the front door.

When Harmony knocked, they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Harmony immediately backed up, painfully reminded of Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister, and her favorite bulldog, Ripper, who she'd trained to go after anyone she didn't like, which certainly included Harmony. She had her wand out before she even thought about it – but what could she cast? She'd barely learned any spells. She rapidly chose the levitation charm, Wingardium Leviosa – she'd only learned to float things just off the ground in her practice in her room at the Leaky Cauldron, but that'd be enough to buy her time to run away. Her vision was narrowing towards the edge of the door, where Ripper would charge out when Hagrid's voice rang out, saying "Back, Fang – back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He opened the door wider, struggling to keep a hand on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

"Hello there, looks like you must be Ron?" Hagrid said, "Harmony said you'd be joining. Oh and hello there Harmony – ah, what do you have your wand out for, Harmony?"

Harmony's heart slowly started to pound less and her panic started to ebb. Hagrid was here. Hagrid meant safety. Meant no more Dursleys. It was hard to remember with Fang still barking, so she stowed her wand and covered her ears, which helped. She wasn't really ready to talk, yet.

"Um, I think she's – she doesn't like the dog, I think," said Ron, looking back and forth between Harmony and Hagrid.

Harmony nodded – even with her hands over her ears, she got the gist of what Ron said.

Hagrid's eyebrows shot up. "Down, Fang. Quiet, Fang," he said, with a stern tone to his voice. Fang gave a little whine and sat on his hind legs, looking up apologetically at Hagrid. Harmony breathed deeply, then uncovered her ears tentatively. She nodded, breathed deeply again, and closed her eyes for a bit to feel all the way back to normal again.

She opened her eyes again, then with a tense voice and a little smile said "Hi, Hagrid. Nice to meet you, Fang. Hagrid, this is my friend Ron. Ron, this is my friend Hagrid."

"I'm real sorry, Harmony, I didn't know – Fang just gets like that when he's excited, he's a total sweetheart," said Hagrid, stepping outside fully with Fang behind him, twisting his hands.

Harmony nodded. "It's not him – it's – my uncle's sister, she raised dogs, pushed them to be really mean, to chase me, try to bite me." She shivered, but the memory was a bit more distant, now that she could talk about it.

Ron's eyes bugged out – she'd mentioned that her former family was awful, but she hadn't gone into much detail.

"I get it, really I do, I seen what those Dursleys were like," said Hagrid. "I'll make sure he behaves, stays nice and polite and quiet while you're visiting. Uh, unless you'd like to talk outside while he stays in? Or him out, us in? Whatever you like."

Harmony took another deep breath, then glanced at the floppy-tongued black dog at Hagrid's feet. He definitely looked like a big softie, now that Hagrid'd mentioned it. "It's alright, as long as he can stay quiet. We can all go inside."

With a nod, Hagrid led them in. "Make yourselves at home!"

There was only one room, and Harmony's eyes immediately went to the ceiling, which was covered in dozens of little artworks, painted, knitted, or carved, with bright rainbow colors raining down on them all. Scenes of nature, the joy of running and the peace of a lakeside. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling, amongst the artworks.

A copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, with a yellow frilly knit handle-cover so it could be picked up safely, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it. It was in the same style as the ceiling, detailed and vibrant and clearly well-loved. A huge apron hung from a hook near the fire, purple and pink with a little owl stitched onto the center. Squinting a little, Harmony thought it looked like Dervish, Hagrid's pet owl that seemed to live in his pocket.

Fang curled up on a wide squat bed near the door, cozying under a massive yellow blanket. It brought a smile to Harmony's face – Hagrid'd been working on it on her birthday, when he'd rescued her.

Ron and Harmony took seats near a big kitchen table, as Hagrid poured boiling water into a large teapot and pulled out a plate of rock cakes.

"So, tell me how your first classes been going," said Hagrid, settling in to a much larger chair on the other side of the table.

Harmony and Ron alternated telling stories of there first few classes, but there was something wrong with the rock cakes – they were so hard they almost broke Harmony's teeth. As Ron wrapped up the story of Binns' dreadful lecturing, Harmony spoke up.

"Uh, Hagrid, there's something up with these rock cakes – they're really hard."

Hagrid frowned slightly, picking one up and knocking it against the table. It gave a clunk, clunk noise. Hagrid raised an eyebrow for a moment, then let out a big, warm laugh.

"I'm dreadful sorry, this was the batch I left out a few days ago," he said, taking the plate and dumping the cakes unceremoniously into a bin. "Let me get you the fresh ones, just a moment."

Ron smiled thankfully to Harmony the moment Hagrid wasn't looking, and Hagrid pulled out another plate of identical looking rock cakes. Trying these ones carefully, Harmony and Ron found that they were delicious, fluffy and a bit sweet from the raisins. They munched away happily, complimenting Hagrid as they went, to his clear joy.

As they wrapped up with the stories of the first day, Harmony couldn't stop smiling. "Your house is so lovely, Hagrid, it's just beautiful. It's so vibrant!"

Hagrid smiled, abashed, a bit red in the cheeks under his bushy beard. "Well, ah, you know how it is, you live some place awhile, you add to it now and again, sooner or later there's something everywhere you look."

"And your quilt and blanket and apron, I love it all so much! You're so talented!"

"Yeah, what she said, it's ruddy awesome," added Ron.

Hagrid blushed again, hiding his face behind a mug of tea. "Aww, you're too kind, you two."

"I guess – I guess you don't get to express all of yourself outside of home?", asked Harmony.

Hagrid sighed, a big warm wave over the whole table. "People don't get it – they see the beard, my size, my profession, they think that's all there is to me. I mean how would people react if they saw me tramping around the forest in me favorite dress? I'd never hear the end of it", he said with another sigh.

Out of the corner of her eye, Harmony saw Ron looking stunned that Hagrid even had a favorite dress. Before he could say anything, she said, "Could I see that dress, Hagrid? I bet it's lovely."

Hagrid beamed with pride, pulling from a drawer a thick leather dress, surrounded in pleats and folds, with patches sown on of dozens of different animals, dogs and deer and birds and dragons, all in a wild, beautiful swirl of color. It was exactly the sort of dress one could happily wear all day while tramping around the forest. Hagrid had clearly made it for himself, and just as clearly it had never seen the outdoors.

Hagrid spun on the spot and the hem flared out to fill half the house, as Harmony clapped with joy.

"It's beautiful, Hagrid, I love it! You did a wonderful job with it! I'd love to be able to work leather and knit and quilt the way you do!", she said.

"Well, ah, ah, uh, let me see what you've been working on," said Hagrid, clearly a bit emotional, "maybe I can give you a tip or two."

Harmony pulled out a in-progress piece she'd been knitting, and together they started going over her technique and the various stitches, with Hagrid complementing her progress and giving gentle tips. Eventually, Hagrid pulled out his own piece to demonstrate some of the techniques at larger scale.

As they worked, Harmony asked, "Hagrid, would you like a time when you could wear want you wanted? An occasion to wear that dress, say?"

Not taking his eyes of what he was knitting, Hagrid sighed and said "I would, Harm', I would. But it's just not an option – me job's on the edge as it is." Looking up he added "I trust you two, yeah?"

Harmony nodded enthusiastically, and Ron nodded along, though he still looked a bit shocked.

Harmony said "Maybe we could go on a field trip – somewhere far away, where we won't run into anyone? And then you could be yourself?"

Hagrid nodded, a wide smile coming over his face. "I'd like that, Harmony. I'll arrange something, I'll let you know when." They knitted on in unison, the tension easing, as Hagrid went back to giving Harmony little tips on her technique.

Ron slowly regained his footing, gears turning in his head, his worldview expanding by the minute. He looked like he was considering jumping in, but backed off to let Hagrid and Harmony just enjoy their time together for a while.

Eventually, as the tips died down and Hagrid and Harmony were just knitting away in synchrony, Ron cut in.

"Um, Hagrid, I was meaning to ask. Did you know You-Know-Who?"

Hagrid's demeanor changed at once as he let out another sigh. "I suppose you must've told him?", he said to Harmony, who nodded guiltily.

"Listen. If you poke around in this, it comes down on my head. This could mean my job, or worse. And besides, that was a bad enough time, and I'm not going to live it any more'n I have to. I'm only going to tell you anything on the condition that you didn't hear it from me. You hear me?"

Harmony and Ron both nodded very seriously. Hagrid sighed again. "But, I guess it's time to tell someone. You lot are as good as anyone."

"So, where did it start? He was a Slytherin and a real brown-noser when he was with the profs he thought was important. Always top grades, always looking down his nose at anyone he thought was beneath him – which was almost everyone. Made prefect, made Head Boy even."

Ron and Harmony both listened with fascination, hanging off every detail. It was so strange to hear Voldemort discussed like a real person.

"Let's see, what else? He was always real put-together-like, ironed his robes and that, and he was very pale, like he didn't go out much. Or makeup, I supoose, not sure which. And he was already calling himself – that name I wrote for you, Harmony."

Harmony nodded, then asked "Wait, but then he had another name? Before that one?"

Hagrid nodded. "Yup, teachers called him Tom Riddle. I think he wanted something fancier – more magical, perhaps."

"So, was this when you were in school?" Ron asked. "Did he graduate before or after you?"

Harmony winced, knowing that Hagrid had been expelled.

"Well, uh, you know, it was a while ago," said Hagrid, clearly avoiding the question. "So, how's your brother Charlie? I liked him a lot – great with animals."

While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harmony set down her knitting to nibble on more of her rock cake. As she leaned forward, she noticed a piece of paper half-covered by the tea cozy, which Hagrid had quilted just like the blanket.

The paper was a clipping from the Daily Prophet, folded and torn out carefully:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wixen unknown.

Gringotts staff goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken, despite the unauthorized opening of a highly-secured vault. The vault had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out and put away those cameras," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Harmony remembered Ron telling her on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid!", said Harmony, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

Hagrid avoided the topic again, saying, "Uh, so, Harm', I'll send Dervish over with a note when I've got some time off, we can make a trip of it, yeah?", he asked, patting his pocket to the sound of a peaceful hoot.

Harmony didn't even mind, if this was what Hagrid wanted to change the topic to. "I'd love to join you camping, Hagrid. I've never been, and I'd love to join you. Can I bring our friend Sophie, too? E's a spivak, so e likes doing things that people might find surprising, gender-wise. Just like me and you."

Hagrid smiled, clearly glad to be off the stressful subject. "Well, I can't rightly say that I know what a spivak is, but it's always a good time to learn. E? E's more'n welcome."

Harmony was all smiles as they all said their goodbyes, but she couldn't help but think about the clipping. Hagrid had emptied vault seven thirteen, if you could call it emptying, just taking that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were there for?

As Harmony and Ron walked back to the castle, weighed down by the rest of the tray of fluffy rock cakes, Harmony couldn't help but smile wildly. Sure, there were Dark wixen doing spooky things, and Dumbledore and Hagrid with their mysteries. but that all could wait.

It was so lovely to see Hagrid enjoying himself, showing off his knitting, and living his life how he wanted to. Maybe there really was a future for Harmony.

Chapter Text

As Thursday rolled around, Harmony finally was starting to feel settled in. Classes were always fun, but starting to feel more predictable. Homework was a bit more demanding than at her old school, but with her friend circle as a study group, everything felt easy.

After classes, Harmony checked out a school broom, another old witchy-looking one, some kind of a Comet, and headed down to the learner's field by Hagrid's house. She'd been looking forward to this ever since the lesson.

As she walked out, Hedwig flew over to join her. As Harmony petted the beautiful snowy-white owl, she wondered whether Hedwig knew she was going out flying. Probably, she figured. Magical owls seemed to know a lot of things – they could read addresses on envelopes, for instance. And now that she focused, she could feel a bit of a – presence from Hedwig, a vague sense of where she was.

"That's a good owl," she said, petting Hedwig and feeding her an owl treat. Were familiars real? Animals that were friends with a witch? She'd ask Neville about it, he knew a lot about nature and he and Trevor seemed joined at the hip.

Now, it was time to fly. Harmony doffed her robe, revealing the yellow and green sundress that she'd chosen for flying. Up in the air, she wouldn't be scared of anything – who was there to be scared of up there?

Harmony placed the broom up against her body, so she'd be lying against it when she flew. Madam Hooch's "Up" felt a bit mean, so Harmony tried something more friendly.

"Hold me, please."

The broom pressed into her slightly. She leaned further against it, and it held. With a smile and a deep breath, she jumped into the broom, diving low across the grass, no more than knee height. She gave a whoop of joy, as Hedwig followed with a hoot of her own.

Experimentally, Harmony tried out a curve, keeping low and slow for safety. It was tricky, and once she even rolled off, as Hedwig fussed over her. The broom took lots of trial and error to really figure out – it was about how you shifted your weight, where you focused your attention, momentum and acceleration, and feeling a connection with the broom. It was magical to the core.

As she got more confident, Harmony flew higher and higher, circling over the vast rolling lawns, her dress fluttering gently around her, Hedwig by her side.

As she reached a height near the tops of the trees, she felt Hedwig focus on something very intently. She couldn't see what her owl was looking at, but Hedwig swooped down into a dramatic dive. Maybe there was a tiny flicker of movement? Harmony curved her broom down into a steep dive, keeping things slow to follow Hedwig towards the ground, heading for that hint of movement she thought she'd seen.

As the acceleration sent her insides pressing upward into her ribs, she saw what Hedwig was closing in on: a fieldmouse scampering towards the woods. But before it could escape, Hedwig flared up to snatch the rouse by the talons, then fluttered up to a branch to eat. Harmony watched on with pride, happy that the owl was flexing her skills. Happy they could fly together.

Harmony mimicked her flare at the bottom of the dive, but something was a little off. She slowed down too suddenly, and as she rose up her lovely yellow-green dress billowed and got all tangled about her. From somewhere off to the side, she heard loud snickering. Somebody laughing at her.

"What does he think he's wearing," she thought she heard, from far away.

She couldn't even look at them, just banked up into the air. Everything had been so nice. And it took such a little mistake to mess it all up. She flew straight up into the sky, just blue-white clouds as she smoothed her lovely dress down around her.

She flew up and up, not fast, but it still didn't take long until she neared the highest spires of the Hogwarts towers. Until her tears started to flow.

Crying is Ok. Crying is good. Crying means you still know how to feel.

She bobbed up there, feeling overwhelmed. What was she doing? Being a girl? Where people could see her? Where everyone could see her?

She lay back on her broom, head against the brush, staring up at the sky.

But who would she be, if she hid herself, just because some meanie thought they were funny?

She sat back up on the broom again. From up here, the people down below looked more like dots. Like they didn't matter. Some people, she wanted to matter. Like her friends. Like Sophie and Neville and Hermione and Ron. And Hagrid and McGonogall. And Anna and Carrie. Other people, they didn't get to matter. They hadn't earned it. They only got to be little dots.

As she set off on a loop around the castle, she remembered another friend she'd been meaning to see. She caught sight of the Headmaster's office, opulently decorated as she remembered it. Dumbledore wasn't visible through a window, which Harmony appreciated, and Fawkes was.

She met his eye with a smile, and with a low rumble, Fawkes flew out of a roll of flame to join her on her circuit, his wings twice as wide as she was tall.

She smiled widely, the remnants of tears drying fast on her face. She tilted her head, thinking loudly "How've you been?". Fawkes gave a couple of quick beats of his wings, as if to say "Tense, but nothing terrible."

Harmony nodded. It sometimes felt that way at Hogwarts. There was always something new around the corner. But when she was flying, nothing really felt that bad. Nothing could keep her down for long. Not for lack of trying.

"Can you – show me how to fly like you?", she asked Fawkes, staring intently at his graceful, purposeful movement.

Fawkes gave her a slow, intent nod, and took the lead. He started simple, turns and swoops and controlling momentum, and soon escalated into rolls, climbs, dives, sudden stops and quick bursts of speed. He couldn't fly as fast as her broom on his wings alone, but on wings of flame, diving in and out of the rolls of fire, he could easily outpace her developing skill.

Hedwig came and joined them before long, her meal complete, and she and Fawkes seemed to get on comfortably. Hedwig started showing Harmony how to use her eyes, how to search and spot and maintain line of sight when diving and swooping.

It was a lovely lesson, and a lovely time high up in the air. Clean fresh air and not a care in the world.

Eventually, though, it was time to head back down and face the real world. Fawkes needed to talk with Dumbledore about something important, and the sun was starting to go down, besides. But they all nonverbally made plans to see each other before long, and went their separate ways.

Ash she strode back into the castle in her yellow-green dress, she couldn't help but smile. Who cared if some kid tried to make fun of her, when she was a flying witch on a magic broomstick?

The next morning was another of Madam Hooch's flying lessons, but there was a bit of time free between breakfast and the lesson. Neville was practicing with his Remembrall – if you changed what you were thinking about, the color of the red in the ball would change, and you could narrow in on what you'd forgotten. He had Trevor, his pet toad, around his ankles.

"Um, Neville, I was meaning to ask, can magical pets be familiars? Like, it is possible to feel how they feel?"

Neville looked up from the Remembrall, looking relieved to have an excuse to stop. It looked like tough work.

"Yeah, absolutely! It happens when they're you're closest friend, and you're their closest friend. Feeling what they feel and vice versa is pretty common, that's me and Trevor.", he said, patting Trevor's back lightly. "But sometimes people can talk with their familiar or involve them in their magic."

Harmony nodded, thoughtful. "I think that's me and Hedwig. She was my closest friend – when I was living in Diagon Alley, after I escaped my Aunt and Uncle."

Neville nodded, looking serious. "I'm glad you got away from them – I can't imagine what it'd've been like if I'd've had to live with Great-Uncle Algie all the time." He shivered.

Harmony nodded, appreciative. "So, what should I do to – be closer friends with Hedwig, then?"

"Well, there's some books in the library you can take a look at, I'll show you where the next time we're there. Besides that, you can spend time with her, play with her if she likes that, and you can practice meditating on your connection with her. That's what I've found Trevor likes, at least," as he gave Trevor another pat. Trevor let out a contented croak.

"Thanks, Neville! I guess I've been doing that a bit but now maybe I'll know what I'm doing. And thanks, Trevor."

Neville smiled a bit shyly, and looked back down towards his Remembrall. "You're welcome, Harmony."

As they all headed off towards flying practice, Harmony felt on top of the world once again. After flying with Fawkes and Hedwig, she felt solid, confident, excited. A bit of that enthusiasm was rubbing off on her friends, it seemed.

Hermione was chatting excitedly with Ron and Sophie about how she'd cross-referenced her initial flying experiences with three more library books on Quidditch, and how she thought she had a real good sense of what to focus on learning next.

Neville was repeating "I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it" again and again as they crossed the lawns, clutching his Remberall full of white smoke tinged with the barest pink.

Madam Hooch was there again with her circle of brooms, and everyone took up their spots, Harmony remembering to stand to the left of hers.

"Connect with your brooms everyone, no need for synchrony from now on," said Madam Hooch.

With a quick "May I fly you?" Harmony was connected, laying the broom across herself, ready to lean into it. It was crooked and aged, just how she liked it.

Neville managed it on his second try, a loud and excited "UP!" bringing the broom to his hand a little harder than ideal, but certainly successful.

When everyone was connected, Hooch said "Now, I want you to jump up into a float, maybe five feet off the ground. Once we're up there, I'll give you your next directions."

"On my whistle – three – two –"

But Neville, a bit overeager with his newfound confidence, jumped off a bit early and far too hard.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted, drawing her wand. But Neville was rising straight up into the air like one of Dudley's fireworks – ten feet – twenty feet. Harmony saw his face, mixed pride, fear, and excitement. Saw him gasp as his grip failed, slip sideways off the broom.

An Impedimenta from Hooch slowed his fall considerably, and he bounced as he hit the grassy ground, though not without a loud crack. Half the class dropped their brooms and ran over to where he lay in a facedown heap, Madam Hooch at the front.

"Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy – up you get, Pomfrey's seen plenty of these."

With Sophie and Hooch's help, he climbed to his feet, still wincing in pain, but smiling slightly as well.

Hooch turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! Except, um, this one", she said, glancing at Sophie supporting Neville. "You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his faced tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Hooch and Sophie, who each had an arm around him.

As he left, Harmony heard him whisper to Sophie "Did you see? I flew! I actually flew! Maybe not well, but –"

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

Others joined in. "Yeah, he was all like 'Oops, guess my fat hands can't hold on'", said Dean Thomas, as Crabbe guffawed.

"Shut up, all of you," snapped Parvati Patil. "Yes, give it a rest, you all couldn't be more unpleasant if you tried," said Daphne Greengrass, giving off an air of being entirely above it all.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson. "Figured you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati. But Daphne, didn't see that coming from you."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching a glint out of the grass. "It's that fat marble Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up, looking noticeably reddish.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harmony, quiet but intent. The prior conversation had trailed off as everyone turned toward the two of them.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree? How many time you think he'll fall out before he gets it down?"

"Give it here!", she repeated, more forceful this time, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broom and taken off. He could certainly fly well, just like he'd been saying. Hovering level with the top of a nearby oak, he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harmony leaned into her broom, ready to take off. If she backed down, Malfoy would just keep coming after Neville, she could feel it. She needed to be Neville's Anna.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us you'll be expelled!"

Harmony gave it a second thought, but decided that they probably wouldn't expel someone over something this minor.

She kicked off the ground and up, up she soared, wind rushing through her hair, her robes billowing around her. She could feel the practice with Fawkes and Hedwig paying off, her movement confident and purposeful. This was easy, this was wonderful.

She faced Malfoy, staring down the length of her broom.

"Give it here," Harmony called, "or I'll take it from you!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer but looking worried.

She leaned forward further and shot towards Malfoy like a speeding train, one arm out to try to grab for the Remembrall. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time. Harmony circled back around for another pass.

"No posse up here to make you feel big, Malfoy."

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air, then sank back down towards the ground.

Harmony saw the ball rise up and then start to fall. There was no chance it'd survive if it hit the ground, and she didn't know any magic that could save it. But she could fly.

She leaned forward into a swooping dive, racing the ball, keep her eyes focused like Hedwig had shown her, aware of the wind, the ground, the movement. Wind whistled in her ears, mingling with shouts and screams from onlookers. A foot from the ground she caught it, no lower than her first practice height. She flared up to her feet and stepped onto the ground, Remembrall safely in her hand.

"HARMONY POTTER!"

Her heart sank right into her toes, faster than she'd just dived. Professor McGonogall was running toward them. She never ran, never went above a brisk walk unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –"

McGonogall was struggling to get a word out in her shock, her glasses flashing furiously.

"Nearly broke your neck –"

"It wasn't that risky, Professor –"

"Be quiet, Mr. Weasley."

"Malfoy also –"

"That's enough, Miss Patil! Potter, follow me, now."

Harmony caught sight of Malfoy, Dean, and Pansy's triumphant faces as she left, walking numbly in Professor McGonogall's wake. She was going to be expelled, she knew it. Hooch had warned them, Hermione had warned her personally. Professor McGonogall was sweeping along without even looking at her; she had to jog to keep up.

She wanted to say something to defend herself, but there seemed to be something wrong with her voice.

Now she'd done it. McGonogall had said that she had the power to emancipate Hogwarts students, but if she wasn't a student any more, what happened to her then? Would she live with Michael and Daisy? Or would she have to put her runaway plans into effect?

As they climbed the front steps, McGonogall still didn't say a word to her. Harmony had a sudden thought: If there was something wrong with Harmony's voice, maybe there was something wrong with McGonogall's, too?

Harmony tugged on McGonogall's sleeve, who paused at the base of the marble staircase. As Harmony caught her breath, she pulled out a quill and scrap parchment, and scribbled down one word: Expelled?

McGonogall shook her head, catching her breath as well.

"My goodness, no, my dear," she said eventually, with leaps and bounds of relief echoing through Harmony's chest.

"No, if we expelled every student who disobeyed a teacher or endangered themself, Fred and George Weasley would be expelled on a daily basis, and half our House would be gone before the end of term."

Harmony nodded, relieved.

"There will be detention, for each of you and Malfoy," she continued, but Harmony couldn't care less, so long as it wasn't permanent. "But that's not what this is about," she finished, smiling to herself. She turned and led off up the marble stairs.

Harmony followed again, far more hopeful, curious rather than despairing. McGonogall wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harmony trotting along behind her. Where was she heading?

McGonogall stopped outside a classroom. She stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? thought Harmony, bewildered. McGonogall was an expert in transfiguration – why would she need to come all this way to fetch some Wood?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy, looking confused.

"Follow me, you two," said McGonogall, as they looked confused at each other.

"In here."

McGonogall pointed them into an empty classroom.

As she closed the door, McGonogall made introductions.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said McGonogall crisply. "She's better than the third-stringers we'd be playing otherwise, certainly. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

"Third time", she said, quietly. She didn't know what was going on, but it sounded like Quidditch, which was about as far from punishment as things could get.

"She caught that glass marble after a fifty foot dive," McGonogall told Wood. "On a broom she'd never flown before. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it in his first year."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

Harmony shook her head.

"See, Gryffindor's starting Seeker, Towler, he got injured in the offseason, no shape to play. And the first reserve, Akagi, she told me she needs to focus on classes with her NEWTs coming up," said Wood.

"So we're very much in need of a Seeker, if you're interested, Potter," said McGonogall.

From what Harmony remembered of Ron's brief description, Seeker was the most complicated position. But Harmony loved to fly, and being offered the chance to hang out with people who loved it too? That sounded wonderful. She nodded eagerly.

"She's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Harmony, appraising her. "Light – speedy – we'll have to get her a broom of her own, Professor – something she can bond with, maybe one of the ones from the Vault?"

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule, given extenuating circumstances. Heavens know, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the eye for weeks –"

McGonogall stopped her reverie to peer sternly over her glasses at Harmony.

"I want to hear you're training hard, and following all the safety guidelines, Potter. Don't think you've gotten out of detention, remember."

Harmony breathed deeply, remembering that despite all the ups and downs, she was just in a reasonable amount of trouble.

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would've been proud," she said. "He was never happier than when he was playing or watching Quidditch."

Chapter Text

Harmony caught back up with the group just as Neville was leaving the hospital wing. He was beaming.

"– and the Sorting Hat told me that being brave is about being scared and doing what you want anyways. I was so afraid of heights, of flying, of getting hurt. Especially after Great-Uncle Algie."

Everyone nodded encouragingly as Neville paused for breath.

"And now I've done it all and it was just fine! I mean I need way more practice because I was no good at all, but that's to be expected when I've never flown before. But being scared doesn't have to mean I'm trapped!"

"Congratulations Neville, we're really proud of you!"

"You did it! You flew!"

The whole group piled in for a hug, Harmony, Hermione and Neville on the inside and Sophie and Ron around the outside with their longer arms.

Neville was still glowing with excitement and basking in the praise as they made it back to the Great Hall for lunch.

Harmony finally remembered what she had in her pocket, and handed Neville his Remembrall back, the red color fading rapidly with her realization.

"Oh, uh, did you get in any trouble? With McGonogall, I mean? She looked rather – forceful when she pulled you away? Oh, I hope you're not expelled? I –" asked Hermione.

"No, uh, it was just a detention.", interrupted Harmony. They all took their usual seat at the Gryffindor table, taking bowls of a thick stew and a nice chewy bread.

"And actually, she introduced me to Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain."

That got the group's attention, Ron's especially.

"So apparently Gryffindor's main seeker got injured not too long ago, and their backup needs to focus on classes, so they want me to give it a go."

"You're joking". Ron had a spoon of stew halfway to his mouth, but he'd fogotten all about it.

"Seeker?" he said. Harmony nodded. "But first years never – you must be the youngest house player in about –"

"A century," said Harmony. "Wood told me. And yeah, McGonogoall said she'd ask about an exception."

Ron sputtered, trying to find something to say, but he couldn't.

"Congratulations, Harmony, that's just wonderful!", Sophie said, an intense smile in eir eyes through eir fringe.

Hermione and Neville weren't as much into Quidditch as Ron and Sophie, but they each cheered Harmony on.

Fred and George Weasley, in some order, now came into the hall, spotted Harmony, and hurried over.

"Well done!" said George, probably. "Wood told us. We're on the team too – Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win the Quidditch cup for sure this year. Oliver thought we'd be toast with Towler out," said Fred, quite likely. "And besides, we haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harmony, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyways, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passage out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you!"

"So, I meant to ask, Oliver said he wanted me to have a broom from the Vault, what's that?"

Hermione jumped in, "The Hogwarts Vault is a repository of ancient brooms, each dating back centuries, or in at least one case over a millennium. These ancient brooms have storied histories, with many Quidditch champions donating their brooms upon retirement. I read about it in Broomsticks: An Unabridged History."

"Is that helpful?" Asked Harmony.

Ron nodded, swallowing another scoop of stew.

"So when a broom gets real old, it develops a lot of quirks – a tilt, turning at different speeds in different directions, accelerating faster in a spiral, that sort of thing."

"Where a newer broom will be very orderly and predictable," he continued. "Top of the line ones, especially."

"But all brooms are limited by your magical energy flowing into them," added Sophie.

"Yeah, so the newer brooms don't use your energy quite as well, because they're trying to be all smooth and predictable," said Ron.

"While the really old quirky ones have the most potential, best speed and tightest turns and all that, if you can learn what they're good at," said Sophie.

"So all the best players ride old brooms, and there are starting to be some broommakers that make brooms that are free to be chaotic from the day they're made, though it still takes time for them to age up."

Harmony was getting kind of overwhelmed by the stream of commentary.

"Is it harder to learn to ride these older brooms?"

Ron and Sophie both nodded. "Basically, it means Oliver and McGonogall really believe in you, but also that things'll be harder, especially starting out," finished Ron.

Harmony nodded, then shrugged and went back to her stew. "Well, a proper witch should have a wild old broom, makes sense I suppose."

The conversation hadn't gotten much further when a far-less welcome group showed up. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Dean, they had a tendency to move in a pack.

"Having a last meal, Potter?", spat Malfoy. "When are you getting on the train back to the Muggles?"

"First of all, I'm never going back, I ran away, which you seemed to think was pretty cool when we first talked," Harmony said, as Malfoy looked rather taken aback.

"And second, I'm not expelled, just detention. With Snape, same as you. We were both flying, after all."

Malfoy looked miffed that McGonogall hadn't dished out something more severe.

"Well, you deserved worse, with all your showboating," he said, trying to get some of his swagger back.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your friends with you," said Harmony coolly. This was a little different than Harmony's old school – the High Table was full of teachers, so there was nothing Crabbe, Goyle, and Dean could do except crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime, on my own," said Malfoy.

"Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only – no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course she has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm her second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at his group, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all –"

"Excuse me," said Harmony. "I'm not dueling anybody. You or Crabbe. Go away."

Malfoy looked extra furious now. "I guess you wouldn't know anything about wizarding honor, Potter. Backing out of a duel, that's real low. Everyone'll know you're a chicken." The rest of his pack made clucking noises and flapped their arms like wings, but they turned and left, Malfoy swiping a slice of bread from the basket as he went.

"Why'd you back out?", asked Ron, confused.

"First of all, I never was in, please don't sign me up for things without asking," said Harmony, as Ron looked contrite.

"And second, it was clearly a set up – he wanted to get me in trouble for dueling, since I didn't get in much trouble for flying."

Ron looked stunned by that, but slowly nodded.

"And besides, think of how many points you'd lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you'd've been bound to be caught. Wandering around the school at night, they're quite against that.", said Hermione. "Avoiding the duel, that's very public spirited of you."

Harmony nodded, thoughtfully. "I wouldn't put it past Malfoy to give Filch a tip about the location, he was very firm on where he wanted us to be."

Ron looked stunned again.

"Look, Ron, the thing about people like Malfoy is you've got to assume that everything they do is trying to make your life worse. So if they ever ask you to do something, you've got to think about how they're going to make it come back to bite you."

"I just thought he wanted to beat you in a duel," said Ron, a little quietly.

"It's alright, I don't like trying to think the way they do either," said Harmony.

"Actually, how did you learn to think like that?", asked Sophie softly.

Harmony took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "My cousin, mostly. He was always pissed at me, always trying to get me in trouble, with – his parents, with the school, all of it. I think he learned it from his parents, they were like that too."

Sophie rubbed Harmony's shoulder, as she started to open up a bit more to her friends about her past home life.

She told them about her former cupboard, going hungry, learning to jimmy the lock, and making food for all her relatives before she was even tall enough to reach the stove properly.

They looked more and more aghast as she went, though Neville seemed like he understood what she'd been through best of anyone.

"So, I talked to Carrie and Anna, my friends from the public school, I never told them much about all that but I got a sense that this was super not Ok?"

Hermione, Ron, and Sophie all nodded firmly. Harmony said "But none of it's your fault, my parents – they're dentists, it's a nonwixen thing that hurts kind of a lot – they told me how once a kid's mom told him that she was punishing him by taking him to the dentist so he should run around the house anymore or she'd bring him back, some parents are just mean like that."

Harmony teared up a bit, getting it into the open. Crying is Ok, crying is good, crying means you still know how to feel.

"I'm glad I have all of you," she said, smiling at her friends.

Chapter Text

That evening, there was detention. It made sense. She had been reckless, had let her love of flying and Malfoy's goading get in the way of her good sense.
She'd been slowly working her way up in terms of speed and risk, and today's flying had completely gotten in the way of that.

Still, she was bouncing with every step down into the dungeons, for the love of the flying ahead. Her detention was with Professor Snape, and the cold stone-lined corridors couldn't get her down.

She pulled up to the Potions classroom just before her designated time, just as Malfoy walked out, his detention complete. He looked bedraggled and miserable, though his robes were spotless.

Harmony gave him a small smile in recognition of their shared punishment, Malfoy just squinted. After a moment to get his bearings, he shoulder-checked her and left with a whispered "freak".

Harmony couldn't help but smile wider as she entered Snape's classroom. It was pretty clear who was having the better day, of the two of them.

Snape looked over at her from his desk at the front of the classroom, his robes customarily unkempt. He was holding a quill over a large stack of parchment.

"Ah yes." He paused for a long moment. "Miss Potter, you will be scrubbing out cauldrons," gesturing with the end of his quill to an unwieldy pile of uncleaned school cauldrons, spilling out of the storage area behind his desk.

Harmony nodded, then asked, "What safety gear should I use?"

Snape smiled at that. "The dragonhide gloves, full apron, and goggles, on the shelf by the door. The fifth years' recipe was on the nasty side, as Mister Malfoy learned rapidly," he said with a rather cruel twist to his features.

As she donned the equipment, she smiled too. It felt like Snape was bringing her into the thoughts he didn't usually share. She brought a chair over to the pile of cauldrons and got to work.

Soon, the only sound in the classroom was the scrubbing of Harmony's brush against the cauldron and the scratching of Snape's quill on a parchment he was marking. Harmony could guess why Snape liked teaching down here – it was the quietest place in the castle. There was always hustle and bustle up above, but here the stone walls seemed to ring with silence. Maybe that was why he was still in his classroom late into the evening, not up in an office or somewhere else.

Without prompting, and without looking up, Snape spoke, as if in the midst of an existing conversation. "Well done standing up to Malfoy, today."

Harmony looked up, surprised.

"I never liked bullies," he said. "Though I've certainly become one at times," he finished with a sigh.

"Thank you, Professor. Um, if it's Ok to ask, why are you always so nice to him, in classes and so forth?"

Snape nodded. "Politics."

Harmony went on scrubbing, and maybe that was the end of the story. Finishing up that cauldron, she started on the next one. Halfway through, as unpredictably as before,

"Lucius Malfoy is the most powerful member of the Hogwarts school board, and one of the most powerful wixen political figures in the country."

Harmony nodded. She hadn't even thought about that angle to it.

"He could easily expel faculty from Hogwarts, or bend school policy to his will," Snape continued. "He needs to feel like the system is biased in his scion's favor."

Harmony nodded again. "That makes sense, I suppose. So if Malfoy has a bad time, it's fine, as long as it's his own fault." It was certainly a very crafty way of looking at it, but Snape was the Head of Slytherin House, after all.

Snape nodded, then looked back down to the stack of parchments. Two cleaned cauldrons later,

"You remind me of Lily, your mother." Harmony stopped completely, looking up at Snape again. He seemed to be intentionally avoiding looking at her, now.

"She never liked bullies – well, almost never. Two exceptions, that I recall."

Snape seemed caught in a reverie, speaking words that needed to escape from him.

"She was my first friend, and perhaps my last. We met back when we both lived in Spinner's end, well before either of us went to Hogwarts. She was floating a flower up into the sky."

"That sounds beautiful, Professor," Harmony said. She could imagine it. A different world in which those first flickers of magic could be joyous, not just panicky fleeing from danger.

"We were friends through to Hogwarts. Rode the train together our first day, stayed close even after we were sorted into different houses. Read together, walked together. A close, peaceful friendship." Snape's voice was heavy, full of regret and sadness. Harmony was sad, too, for the mother she'd never had. She scrubbed away slowly, head full of thoughts. This time, she spoke up.

"I have a friend like that – two, actually. Their names are Carrie and Anna, we've been friends since early days of public school. I'm seeing them tomorrow, it's going to be really nice. They helped protect me from Dudley when we were all in school together – Dudley's my cousin, he liked to chase me and beat me up."

Snape nodded, scratching away slowly, taking long pauses to read before making another mark.

On the next cauldron, Snape spoke again.

"James – your father – he was my Dudley. At least at Hogwarts. I can't imagine what she saw in him."

Harmony turned that over and over in her mind. James had liked to beat up Snape? That wasn't what she'd – well, what did she really know of her father? Just stories, and there was no guarantee that she'd've heard this story before. Her uncle Vernon's coworkers seemed to like him when he brought them around his house, and they probably hadn't been hearing stories about her.

She started to cry, tears spotting the inside of her safety goggles. She sat back. Crying was Ok. Crying was good. Crying meant you still know how to feel. She doffed her gloves and took off the goggles, letting the tears roll.

She'd had this perfect, gorgeous picture of her parents. That they'd been perfect people, that her life would've been perfect if only she'd had them to take care of her. But some part of her knew that wasn't true. People aren't perfect – they just sometimes look that way when you don't know them well.

After a nice, proper cry, she took a couple more deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Harmony," said Snape quietly, with the first softness she'd ever heard in his voice. "None of this changes that you didn't deserve to lose Lily and James, that you didn't deserve to grow up the way you did. I wish – I wish many things had gone differently."

Harmony nodded. She smiled, for the fuller understanding of her parents she was beginning to see. They were people, like her.

"Thank you, Professor."

"You are welcome, Miss Potter." Snape sighed again. "Even if I don't know what Lily saw in your father, I know why she stopped spending time with me. As I made my way through Hogwarts, I turned my pursuits towards those who would tell me I was important, who would promise me the power to control my fate, to control those around me."

Harmony shook her head softly.

"Indeed, Miss Potter. Your mother knew nothing good lay down that path, and she told me as much, repeatedly. And I chose them over her."

The weight of far more left unsaid hung in the air.

Harmony scrubbed on and on, as the remaining pile started to shrink. Snape too looked like he was nearing the end of his parchments. They each wrapped up their work as the time allotted for the detention rolled to a close.

As they both stood, Snape waved his wand intricately, sending the remaining materials to their storage locations, putting everything away, closing up for the day. Poorly-made potions interacted badly with magic, hence the scrubbing, but there were spells for everything else.

"This story is far from over. There is much and more I would still tell you. I do not believe in the Headmaster's policy of keeping secrets from those we hope to work alongside."

Harmony tilted her head at that. Was he involved in the whole situation with Voldemort and with her parents' death? She needed to ask Professor McGonogall what was going on here. But still,

"Maybe I can come by again to clean cauldrons and talk, sometime?"

Snape smiled, with that curl of his lip that said he thought something was funny. "This is intended as a punishment, you know. But of course, you may come by, shall we say the evening, two weeks from tonight? Whether or not there are cauldrons to scrub."

Harmony smiled. She appreciated hearing about what a person's life was like, good and ill. Snape felt like what an uncle was supposed to feel like, perhaps? From what Anna and Carrie had told her, at least. Her Uncle Vernon had never treated her with even a modicum of respect.

"Thank you, Professor, I'm looking forward to it."

"You are welcome, Miss Potter. When I heard that you were coming to Hogwarts, I had feared that you would take after James. But suffice it to say, you are far more like Lily, from what I remember of her all these years later."

They made their way out the door, Snape departing deeper into the dungeons with a nod, as Harmony made her way up towards the surface.

She had a lot to think about. And a lot to talk with Carrie and Anna about, tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Early in the morning, at her usual time, Harmony got up. Hermione was getting up too, to head off to the library, though Sophie was sleeping in. But today Harmony couldn't sleep in, today was they day she was going to meet Anna and Carrie!

As she got dressed behind a screen by her bed in the alternate dormitory, she was careful to leave behind her wand and the magical bookstops that she'd gotten from Madam Villa, but she brought along a nonmagical knitting project she'd been working on. It was a little huggable ball or pillow, in rainbow colors. And of course, she brought along the little presents she'd gotten for each of her friends.

She still dressed in her usual black Hogwarts robes, though. Sure, it was a bit weird, but nothing that couldn't be explained away. And besides, they're what feel the most right to her. After heading down to pick up a bit of breakfast in the Great Hall, she made her way out the big front oak doors, and down the little path to the entrance on the edge of the grounds. It was a lovely day, though chilly, blue sky and trees just clinging to the last of their leaves.

There was the little stone guardian person perched on the post between the entrance gates, and Harmony waved to them as she approached. "Hail, Harmony," came the gravelly voice, "Calm travels." Harmony came up by the guardian, in the midst of the quiet path to and from Hogwarts.

"Hail!" she said. "What should I call you?" "Hmmm," came the voice again. "I am the Guardian of the Entrance." Harmony nodded. "Sometimes people go by names that are a shorter version of the full thing? My name is Harmony, and one of my friends has been calling me 'Harm' recently, and I like it."

The Guardian gave a long, slow nod. "In that case, you can call me Guar," they said again. "Great to learn your name, Guar! Thanks, and I'll see you later today!", Harmony said, as she made her way through the gate and around to the little stone hut with the big chimney.

There were two pots of Floo powder by the big stone fireplace, labeled "Default" and "Crimson". Harmony smiled at McGonogall's spell, then took some powder, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Opening her eyes, she spoke in a mostly confident voice, "Evans Residence", and threw in the powder. The fireplace flashed Gryffindor crimson, like Fawkes' wings, and Harmony stepped. In. One, two, three twirls, and she popped out in Michael and Daisy's living room, her grandparents. She'd made sure to arrive well before Anna and Carrie were scheduled to show up.

Made her way over to an armchair, a bit dizzy. Michael soon came into the room, followed by Daisy.

"Hello there, Harmony my dear!", said Michael, "So glad you could come over again, and looking forward to meeting your friends!"

Daisy, Harmony's grandmother, also nodded. "Yes, well, ah, welcome back," she said, glancing back and forth between Harmony and Michael.

"Have you had breakfast already?", asked Michael, jovial again. At Harmony's nod, he said "Lovely, I'll make tea and bring out some biscuits."

Daisy nodded as well, but didn't say anything, just pulling out a novel and starting to read – the book looked like one of those very proper, character-focused novels that Harmony's old English teacher had enjoyed.

Harmony took the time to breathe and get her bearings. Daisy was certainly a bit uncomfortable with Harmony, and she was less vocal than she had been, so that was certainly an improvement.

Harmony took another deep breath and wiggled her toes. Anna and Carrie, today! It was hard not to feel like Hogwarts and her two longest friends belonged to different phases of her life, like she could only have one or the other. But she could have both.

Michael came back with the tea and the biscuits, and handed Harmony a mug. Harmony held it and blew on it, letting it cool, letting her heart slow down.

Michael pulled out a book of his own – it was the copy of Nonnormative Genders and Sexualities she'd lent him. She could see where he'd bookmarked his spot, and she was impressed – it was a very dense book, and he'd clearly been diligent about it. They each sipped their tea, and Michael and Daisy read away at their respective books.

"So, Harmony, would it be Ok if I asked you something? About – about being trans, as you put it?", asked Michael. Daisy was clearly listening in the background, even if she was trying to look like she wasn't.

Harmony took a deep breath. She really did appreciate Michael's attempts to learn. She let out the deep breath. "Ok, but not a lot of questions, Ok?"

Michael nodded. "Before you came to understand – that you're a girl, how did it feel?"

Harmony breathed deeply, thinking back on those days. It hadn't been so long ago, but it hadn't been a good time. "It was wrong. How I saw me, how the other kids saw me. Who I was supposed to be, it was all itchy and hot and empty and sad. And who I couldn't possibly be, that was closing off everything I'd hoped for."

Michael nodded and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, darling," he said, putting down his tea and leaning forward. Harmony put down her tea too and crossed over to Michael and hugged him, and he hugged her back. Things were safer here. This was nothing like the Dursleys. Daisy was still quiet, listening and watching the two of them. Hopefully, she'd learn something. And if she didn't, it wasn't Harmony's responsibility.

As Harmony retook her seat, Michael moved the conversation to something light, talking about his and Daisy's lives together, walks they'd taken, a book-signing they'd been to. It was calming.

Before long, the doorbell rang. Harmony popped up to answer it, and Michael followed more slowly. At the door were Jeannie, Carrie's mom, and Anna and Carrie, who'd all driven over together together. As Michael and Jeannie started talking, Harmony hugged Anna tightly, and Carrie a bit more gently, which she remembered was Carrie's preference. Anna had on her favorite leather jacket, while Carrie was wearing a fuzzy jumper in stripes of pink and purple.

As soon as they could, the three friends all darted up the stairs and into Harmony's room. Her own room! With friends over! Incredible! Unheard of!

Still, for a room, it was a bit bare, not much lived it.

"So, you said you'd just moved in here," said Carrie, carefully, looking around at the walls.

"And we can see that, looking around the place," said Anna, looking pointedly at the walls.

"So we brought a bunch of supplies to help you decorate! Um, if you want," said Carrie. The two of them each swung bags off their shoulders, tipping them out on the bed to reveal construction paper and markers and charms and buttons and fabric and more and more variety.

Harmony gasped and flapped her hands in glee – "It's wonderful, it's going to be so much fun! Where did you get all of this?", she asked, searching through the swirls of colors and options.

"At our new school, there was an old cupboard in the art class that hadn't been touched in years, the new teacher, Ms. Robinson, she just wanted the space freed up and she was giving away all the old stuff, so that's where a lot of it comes from!", said Anna, showing off some of her favorite finds.

Carrie nodded, adding "We also brought some things from home, like some scissors and masking tape that isn't all dry and crusty, like the stuff that had been stored away for years."

Harmony was just stunned and overjoyed, looking at her two friends who knew her so well.

Anna added "When you said you were going to a new school, we didn't know it was because you'd moved in with your grandparents! This is so much nicer than – your old place."

Harmony smiled, and started to cry a bit. She hugged each of her friends, until it was more of a big group hug. They stayed together for a long, long, moment.

As they leaned back again, Harmony remembered little presents she'd gotten, back in London near the Leaky Cauldron. She pulled them out from her robe pocket: A retracting prop knife for Anna, and a little rainbow butterfly bracelet for Carrie.

Anna immediately started flicking the prop knife in and out and waving it around, while Harmony helped clasp the bracelet around Carrie's wrist. Anna only paused long enough to hug Harmony again. Harmony couldn't stop smiling at the two of them.

Soon, they got busy making decorations for the room, flowers and mountains and rainbows, bees and hummingbirds and whatever came to mind. It wasn't the excessively proper sensibility of Privet Drive, nor the beige utility-focus of their old school, nor even the ancient grandeur of Hogwarts.

No, today was all about color and fun, doing whatever came to mind instead of trying to accomplish something or coordinate or plan. The more variety of color, the better, as far as Harmony was concerned.

As they cut out the little patterns and made their decorations, the conversation turned to talking about school.

Carrie and Anna had been meeting so many people so fast at their new place, and making a ton of new friends. Toni and Alyssa and Penelope, a whole friend circle, more than the little group that they'd had before. And the pack of bullies that had made school so scary had fallen apart, as half of them went off to private schools.

"How's making friends been at your school?" asked Carrie, as she traced out a set of stars to go over the mountains she'd made.

"My friends are really nice. There's Hermione and Neville and Ron and Sophie, we spend a lot of time together in the library and on the lawns outside. They're lovely," as she cut out a little field of floors

Cutting out a big flock of birds she'd drawn, Anna asked "How's the gender stuff, like being a girl, being yourself, how's that going? Anyone trying to start shit?". Anna sounded very protective, as she usually did when this subject came up.

Harmony took a deep breath, then started into it. "So, they've only ever seen me like this," she said, gesturing at herself, "which is really nice. Everyone gets that I'm a girl." Carrie smiled at Harmony. That had been hard, before, maintaining herself of self when almost no one around her had gotten it.

"Some shits still try to talk about me as if I was a boy," at which Anna flicked her prop knife again, to Harmony's smile, "but it's forced, you know? Like they're going out of their way to try to be mean, and they don't really know what they're doing, you know?" Anna gave a little smile, retracting the knife again.

"Oh, and I wanted to say, I really like your haircut," said Anna, and Carrie nodded along with a smile. Harmony smiled a bit nervously, worried that her friends would notice how quick it grew. But, to be fair, she'd told them about it growing back really fast before, before she knew about magic, and no one had gotten in trouble then, so it was probably fine.

"Thank you! My friend Neville did it, he read up on how to cut hair and everything, it was really sweet of him. And he did a nice haircut for my friend Sophie too! E's really cool with gender and everything, e's a spivak, which means e's not a boy or a girl."

"Did you say e?" asked Carrie. "Yeah, instead of he or she the word for em is e."

"Em?" "Yeah, em is like him or her."

"There's a whole list of them, isn't there?", asked Carrie with a little giggle.

"Yep! There's Eir for his or her, and eirs for his or hers."

Anna was muttering to herself: "Sophie. E's a spivak. E's cool. E's Harmony's friend. Harmony is friends with em."

Harmony smiled to hear the practice. Maybe this had been how she'd learned to refer to Harmony as 'she' so reliably?

"And e's not the only person with cool gender stuff going on, there's also Hagrid, he's a staff person at the school, and he's really cool in that way too." She smiled, thinking back on him as well.

Harmony sighed, as she turned towards thinking about herself.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing when it comes to gender, though. Like I've stopped exploring who I want to be, without you two. Like I'm just filling the slot called girl because it's there and it's easy, not because it's what I like, if that makes sense?"

"I understand," said Carrie, putting down the scissors for another hug. Anna joined in as well for a group hug. "Listen, you've only just had your first week of class, right? It's Ok for things not to be where you want them to be."

"Thanks," said Harmony with a sigh. "I – I'm worried that I might – might lose track of who I want to be and just be who other people want me to be. And it's better to be a girl, but that's not the end of the story, you know what I mean?"

"I totally get it," said Anna. "Listen, the new school and moving and everything, it's a lot to adjust to, and now you're figuring out where you want to explore and the adventures you want to try out. It's important, but you're not behind or anything."

"Do you have friends you want to explore with? Or things you want to explore?", said Carrie.

Harmony breathed a little more calmly, that her friends had her back, that they didn't thing her concerns were pointless.

She pulled out a light-grey piece of construction paper, and started making a list.

Gender:

• Clothing styles – currently, mostly boring black clothes. Patches and little decorations? People: Hagrid and maybe Hhoran from Diagon Alley?
• History – I can't be the first person with these experiences. People: Research with Hermione?
• Dancing – twirling around to music seems fun. People: Sophie knows lots about music, maybe e knows about dancing?

She breathed deeply. It felt safer, to see it written down. It was real, permanent, not just a worry bouncing around in her mind. She showed off the list to her friends, and there was another round of hugs and congratulations.

"And, and, you can talk with us about this know!", said Carrie excitedly, "Because we can see you a lot! Like every weekend!"

"Yeah! Yay!", cheered Harmony, as Carrie joined in. It was mind-blowing that this was what the future could look like.

They all pasted up the little decorations they'd made, covering every part of the room that they could reach. It looked beautiful. It looked like friendship and warmth and joy.

It looked like home.

Chapter Text

Today in Transfiguration, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were paired up. No pairings within a house, to make sure they'd meet new people. In the lecture McGonogall had taught them a basic version of the Switching Spell. Now, they were in the practical part of the class, turning wine gums into jelly babies and vice versa, to make it look like the candies were teleporting.

For reasons Harmony didn't quite understand, transfiguration was a lot less exhausting when you started with one red wine gum and one green jelly baby, and ended with one green jelly baby and one red wine gum, rather than just turning one into the other. Harmony was practicing with Hannah Abbot, a friendly and rather spacey Hufflepuff girl with stringy blond hair.

"Avertas", Harmony incanted, with a wide sweeping motion around both candies. The wine gum looked like it started to turn a bit green, then rolled onto its side and went back to its original deep red. The jelly baby didn't move at all.

Harmony sighed, resting her head on her arms. For all that this spell was easier than full transfiguration, casting unfamiliar spells really took it out of her, and in a different way from just repeatedly casting a spell she knew well.

There was a lot to learn about magic, and she was just starting out.

When Hannah's spell also produced little more than a wiggle, they agreed to give it a bit of a rest before any more attempts.

"Besides," said Hannah, "Staring at these candies is making me crave some sweets that I can actually eat."

The two of them shared a knowing look – eating anything that had been the target of wonky Transfiguration was Not Safe, and transfiguration safety was the most important part of the class.

Looking around the rest of the class, it seemed like a lot of the early enthusiasm was winding down, turning into either resignation or a grim determination. Next to Harmony and Hannah were Hermione and Susan Bones, another Hufflepuff with longer brown hair and a fierce look of determination. Hermione and Susan were definitely in the grim determination camp, alternating attempts to the occasional successful switch.

"I might visit the kitchens later, they usually have some extra sweets", said Hannah. Harmony's eyes lit up at that. "Can I tag along? I meant to meet the elves who do the cooking but I didn't know how to get there."

"Oh, are we planning a trip to the kitchens?", said Susan, leaning in. "I'd love to join too, there's so many wonderful places within Hogwarts", said Hermione softly.

"So, it's not against the rules, then? I mean Dumbledore said the kitchens are always open but no one seems to know how to get there", said Harmony.

"Well, it's open if you know the way", said Hannah. "All of the Hufflepuffs do, it's right by our common room."

"Yeah, it's secret because the elves who run the kitchen don't want people tramping in and out all the time, but if you're respectful it's fine to visit occasionally", added Susan.

Harmony and Hermione nodded and smiled conspiratorially, but they must have been a bit obvious about it, because another pair – Sally-Anne Perks from Gryddindor and Megan Jones of Hufflepuff – were whispering and glancing at the four of them, and maybe even Harmony in particular.

After the time to rest and a couple of tips from Hermione and Susan, Harmony and Hannah started their attempts again, and by the end of class they could each manage the occasional swap, though nothing reliable as of yet. Still, it was a nice feeling as the four of them all packed up their bags and turned for the door.

There was a pointed voice from behind them, saying "Why are you all hanging out with him", with a twist of disdain on the final word. Harmony turned to find Megan pointed at her in particular, just in time for Sally-Anne to give a loud giggle at Megan's remark.

Harmony's mind spun, confusion at Megan's point, at who the words were for, at what to even do in this situation. Before she could settle anywhere, she felt a tug at her elbow, and accepted the pull as Susan led her from the room.

As they left, Harmony could hear Hannah saying "She's really nice – why do have to be mean to her?"

Soon enough they were out of the room, and Susan and Harmony both took a seat in the hallway. Their backs were up against the wall, so there was no prospect of anyone coming up behind them, which Harmony just couldn't take right now. Deep breaths. Right. That's what she needed now.

"Sorry about that," said Susan. "Megan seems to think she's making some kind of point about you, she's getting rather insufferable to be honest." Susan shook her head.

Hannah and Hermione came out and sat on both sides of them, making sure no one could come up near Harmony.

Harmony just took several more deep breaths. Ok. It wasn't that she felt bad, exactly, more surprised. "Thanks, everyone, I never know what to do when people are like that." Hermione smiled and gently took Harmony's hand.

"Anytime", said Hannah softly.

"Least we can do, it's better than arguing with Megan when you're not around," added Susan.

Harmony nodded, then with one last deep breath stood up.

"Alright, I think I'm ready to head off. Do you all still want to visit the kitchens?"

A round of excited nods later, they were all off towards the dungeons that lead to the Hufflepuff common room. There was a little reasonably-sized staircase leading down, located to the right of the big entry doors into the Great Hall, unlike the huge ostentatious marble staircase that led up.

The staircase led to a wide stone hallway, covered in a variety of paintings, though these were less animated than most of the Hogwarts paintings – primarily still lives and landscapes.

It felt better to be doing something rather than ruminating.

Hannah led them over to one of the paintings in particular -- a bowl of fruit with elaborate shading and muted colors. "So, the thing you have to know is that the pear's very silly," she said, tickling the fabric of the painting where a green pair sat in the bowl, half-obscured by a bunch of grapes.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, but Harmony was already smiling in anticipation at seeing some new magic. Before long, the pear started to twitch in the art, wiggling back and forth and beginning to laugh, before elongating out of the painting into a green handle.

Hannah caught hold of the handle and turned, and with help from the rest of the girls they pushed open the entrance to the kitchen.

It was a gigantic, high-ceilinged room, dark and earthy walls with old, solid wooden beams arching up and around the vast space. It was arranged just like the Great Hall up above. The space was dominated by five massive, heavy, empty tables, four in parallel rows matching the student tables, and one sitting crossways at the far end of the room.

Around the edges of the room, especially on the nearside, there were dozens and dozens of elves, more than Harmony'd seen since the introduction at the beginning-of-term feast. These elves were standing and working and sitting around rows and rows of stewpots and ovens and sinks and all manner of cooking equipment, preparing and monitoring food and chatting comfortably. The light and warmth of flames gave the space a warm, inviting, cozy feel.

The room looked very poorly designed – tons of room taken up by the disused tables, compared to the lively kitchen area itself.

Harmony caught the eye of an elf wearing a rainbow skirt clipped over her shoulders with suspenders. Her mind flashed back to the first night at Hogwarts, the awful stairs becoming a slide and the first night in the common room with her friends. That was the elf who had helped set up the couches as beds. Harmony gave her a wave, and the elf waved back before turning to stir a cookpot.

Another elf wearing an ankle-length apron made her way over to them. "Hello dears, Hannah, Susan," she said, with a crinkled, wizened smile, and a matronly tone to her voice, "and who might you two be?"

"Hello Badu," said Susan, emphasizing the first syllable with a smile of her own, "this is Hermione, and this is Harmony, we wanted to show them round the kitchens."

"Pleased to meet you," said Badu, with a slight nod and a shake of each of their hands. "Anything you kids might be interested in? Dinner won't be too long, but perhaps a snack?"

Hannah's eyes lit up at the mention of food. "Yes! There was a class and we were casting magic on these sweets but we couldn't eat any – do you have any sweets?"

"Was that Minerva's class, by any chance?", asked Badu with another smile. At the girls nods, she continued "Indeed, I think there were some leftovers from that batch. Sweets for all of you, then?"

Susan nodded along with Harmony, while Harmony said "Not feeling like sweets right now, but I'd love to get to know people a bit better. I haven't gotten much chance to talk with anyone down here yet." Hermione nodded along, her eyes lighting up at the possibility of learning from new people.

"Well, most of the staff is busy with dinner coming up, but perhaps you'd like to meet some kids your own age?", asked Badu. Harmony and Hermione gave another pair of eager nods. Badu drew an intricate little symbol in the air, then gave a snap of her weathered fingers. A gossamer-thin bat appeared as Harmony blinked from the snap, which flitted off towards and through a door, one of a dozen or more short doors on the sides of the kitchen.

"Right through there, I've let them know you're on your way. Hannah and Susan, over this way for the sweets."

"See you later?" asked Harmony to the two others as they turned to separate. "Counting on it," said Susan.

Harmony and Hermione picked their way careful through the rows of cooking equipment, with slight smiles and "excuse me"s as they went. It was a smaller door than elsewhere at Hogwarts, maybe five feet tall and narrower than they were used to. Symbols, probably letters, were carved into the door, but nothing that Harmony recognized. While Harmony knocked at the door, Hermione's stared intensely at the symbols, so perhaps they meant something to her.

A voice called from the other side of the room, "Come in, welcome!" The voice sounded friendly and young, a contrast to Badu's voice and many of the other elves they'd seen down here. Harmony gave a push at the door, and led the two of them inside.

Chapter Text

On the other side of the low door, there was a cozy room with several squished chairs and couches and low tables, and the walls hung in a tapestry of wild color. There were three elves in the room, who all swung around as Harmony and Hermione entered.

One elf popped out of his seat, wearing a navy-blue suit jacket down to his knees. The jacket flared out as hit turned to greet them. "Hi, I'm Tila, Badu said you were coming. Welcome, great to meet you!" Hit had a smooth, almost musical voice, with none of the rasp that had been present in Badu's voice, and reached up a hand for the introduction. Tila had a long ee in his name, like Tee-la.

"Hey Tila, I'm Harmony, and this is Hermione," she said, shaking Tila's hand carefully. Tila bounced up and down as they shook, his energy palpable in his motions.

"And let me introduce these two," said Tila, turning to the two further elves. "This is Nothgyth," he said, turning to the first, who was wearing a dress that probably used to be orange at one point but had swatches of fabric sown onto it in every color Harmony could think of and several she'd never seen before. Nothgyth gave a nervous half-smile and a nod of her head, then turned back to Tila, a question waiting on her lips.

"And this is Cherditch", Tila finished, indicating the third member of the group, who was wearing a nice button-down shirt tucked into a long pair of running shorts. The shirt was pinstriped, black and white, while the shorts were tan. It all looked very sharp. "Heya, you two, don't get many tall folks 'round these parts, a real pleasure," Cherditch said with tilt of his head. He and Nothgyth looked similar, perhaps siblings?

"Uh, Tila," said Nothgyth, "Can I, um, you know," she said looking between Harmony and Tila with big eyes. Tila gave a little wobble of his head, and turned to Harmony. "So, Nothgyth really likes hugging people, but she's a bit shy about it. Would you be alright with a hug?"

Harmony nodded with a smile, and Nothgyth hopped onto one of the tables next to Harmony and hugged her, and Harmony hugged her back. Harmony gave a little peaceful sigh, then released and sat in on of the squishy couches. Hermione waved off the offered hug and sat next to Harmony.

"Thanks for the help with that, Tila," said Nothgyth, still a little shy. "Isn't hit the best?" she said to Harmony, who nodded with another smile. "Um, about 'hit'...", she asked Tila. "I use 'hit' as you might use 'he' or 'she'," hit said, smiling. "Ah, a friend of mine uses 'e' that way," Harmony said, nodding. There were so many more possibilities than she'd realized when e'd become a girl with Anna and Carrie, last year.

As they all sat around in a vague circle, Harmony said "I love each of your outfits, by the way, they're so much cooler than the usual robes. I'd love some patches of my own, make this more colorful," she said, holding up her robe slightly and glancing at Nothgyth. "Ooh, I'd love to help!" said Nothgyth, "Oh, but not right now," she said, trailing off.

Tila took over. "We're going exploring," hit said, with a glint in his eye. "Like outside, in the forest?", asked Harmony.

"No, exploring Hogwarts," said Tila.

"That sounds really exciting, I've learned so much about Hogwarts in the library, it has so much history!"

"Oh, you're going to love exploring," said Cherditch, folding his hands and leaning in conspiratorially.

Tila leaned in alongside, voice soft but intense. "A book, you can only imagine what the place was like. We're going to go there, into the guts of the castle. The places we explore are well off the beaten path. Elves don't often spend time where humans frequent – our spaces are more out of sight. In the floors, the walls, the ceilings, the shafts and tunnels and pipes, the old and disused places. You're welcome to join, if you're interested?"

"Absolutely!" Hermione said, fascinated, as Harmony nodded along.

"Well then, there's one place we need to take you first," said Tila, standing and getting ready to depart.

Cherditch and Nothgyth stood as well, and Cherditch said "Everyone's first secret place, the stone circle."

Tila led the way out of a different door from their room, narrow and cramped for Harmony, though an easy walk for the elves. Unfinished stone, but smooth from the passage of time and people.

As they went, Tila explained further. "We don't just explore for fun, though it is fun, and not just to learn, though we certainly do learn. It's about building a connection to the dwelling place that we inhabit. This is at the heart of elf culture, and elf magic. Knowing a place where people dwell, us and you, so well as to know it intimately and intuitively," hit said, running his hand lightly along the tony wall. "We inherit that relationship, we build upon it, and it is the basis of our lives."

Hermione had pulled out a little notebook and quill and was eagerly jotting down notes.

"Not many humans build that sort of relationship to a dwelling place, not many even see that it's possible. But we're happy to share. Some elves would rather live in secrecy and separation from humans, as is tradition, but here at Hogwarts we step out into the light from time to time, and you're welcome to step inside, into the dark with us."

"I never looked at Hogwarts that way" said Harmony, admiring the passion in Tila's speech. "But I've been realizing, it's my home, even if I haven't been here long, and I'd love to get to know our home, the way you know it."

The narrow hallway reached a door, and opened into the base of the column that supported one of the massive moving staircases that had been tormenting Harmony since she first moved to the castle. The upper reaches of the column turned smoothly turned high above them as they entered. The space down below was darker, dusty, and a bit cramped as they all filed in.

In reverent tones, Tila intoned "Many of these spaces, the spaces humans rarely tread, are less polished, less safe, and so there are certain rules that must be followed." Tila snapped his fingers, conjuring a flowing bubble above hit.

"Do you two have a source of light as well?", hit asked. With nods, throat clearing and a pair of Lumos!, Harmony and Hermione both had their wands lit.

"Good!", said Tila. "Now, take a look here," hit said as hit pointed his knobbly finger at a particularly dusty portion of wall.

As Harmony stared closer and brought her glowing wand near, she could just make out letters and words, worn and old and carved into the very stone. Ancient and permanent and part of this place, and yet not words meant for human eyes. Harmony didn't recognize any of it, but one word at the top stood out clearly.

"What does it mean?" asked Hermione in wonder. "These are old words, from when Hogwarts itself was young," said Tila.

"Those will be more familiar," hit said, nodding towards Nothgyth, who stood in front of a set of darkly painted words, visible as their eyes adjusted.

"Nothgyth, do you feel you can recite them?", Tila asked.

"Yes!" she said excitedly, facing the group and reading out the words behind her.

"Well done!" said Tila, giving Nothgyth a hug. "As you can see, we take exploration safety seriously. Oh, and a snapper is someone with magical maturity, someone who can teleport."

"Wait, that can be done without a fireplace?" asked Harmony. Hermione nodded, saying "A lot of humans can teleport, most of the older students actually. But not within the castle."

Tila nodded. "So you'll be staying with us, no going off on your own. When it comes to snapping, Nothgyth isn't reliable yet, and Cherditch is still learning. So that means we'll all stay in one group, with me as snapper, and let's avoid squeezes and ledges entirely for today."

Harmony and Hermione nodded. Harmony loved flying, but she didn't have eir broom with her.

"So, where shall we go?" asked Tila, turning to the other two elves. "Where do you think would be a good place for them?"

The two younger elves thought a moment, and Cherditch brightened up. "How about the roof of the Great Hall?"

Tila smiled as Hermione's eyes lit up. "It's possible to go up there?"

"Where do you think the enchantments are applied?", hit asked. "Great idea, Cherditch, we can use the route we took last Thursday. Would you care to lead the way?"

Cherditch nodded proudly and started off, as the taller girls trailed behind, and the other two elves brought up the rear. Several hallwys branched off the column, and Cherditch's choice twisted and wound and gently climbed until they popped out in a nondescript hallway in the familiar tapestry-covered main area of Hogwarts, what Harmony was thinking of as the "human section" of the castle.

The group crept across the hallway and ducked into a broom closet. Densely packed mops, buckets, and shelving filled the little space.

Tila pointed up at the ceiling, asking "What do you see, Harmony and Hermione?" Nothgyth took one look and started giggling to herself, clearly enjoying already knowing the answer first.

The two taller girls stared intently at the ceiling, not quite sure what they were looking for. There was just the even tiles above them, same as on the walls, same as on the floor.

Well, were they even. Harmony squinted a bit, pointing the the back left corner. "Do you see that? The lines look off." Hermione nodded. "Yes, the mortar's too wide – and it's the wrong color if I'm not mistaken."

Tila smiled. "Very good!", hit said, scrambling up the shelving like a ladder. When hit reached the ceiling, hit lifted one of the tiles into the empty space above, forming an opening wide enough for them to each enter.

Hermione and then Harmony were next up, with support from both below and above, with Nothgyth and finally Cherdith bringing up the rear. Cherditch replaced the tile and they all grew used to darkness, listening to the distant sound of gentle wind. Up here, there was room enough for the elves to stand, but the taller girls had to sit or crouch.

Tila snapped his fingers to conjure a yellow ball of light to mark the way in and out, and another to bring with them. This space was smooth but unadorned, the stone of the castle left open so the castle could breath, and route air to them all.

They started to crawl through this dark, airy space. It was clear from the floor texture where a room ended and a wall began, but there were no obstruction or barriers. Tila left another yellow ball to mark their way.

Harmony pointed to a glimmer of light in the distance ahead. A dark blue, with a hint of white. "Is that where we're going?" Tila just nodded in quiet reverence.

As they crawled closer, the white became fluffier, the blue became deeper and richer, and the floor faded until it was completely clear, and the ceiling faded away as well.

They crawled out into the sky, amongst the clouds, high above the students starting to gather for dinner.

"Can they see, down there?" asked Hermione softly. "No, nothing to worry about," said Tila.

Harmony carefully lay back on the floor. It felt like she was flying. Like when she lay back on her broom and enjoyed the world passing her by. She held Hermione's hand on one side, and felt another hand take hers on the other. Nothgyth.

For a long time, they lay, and breathed, and wondered.

"I'm glad you're nice," said Nothgyth into the sky.

"Yeah, we've heard a lot of stories about humans," said Cherditch.

"We're glad to be nice," said Hermione. "Um, what are those stories like, if you don't mind me asking?"

The two younger elves turned slightly towards Tila, who breathed deeply before starting to speak into the evening sky.

"Traditionally, there was a system of mutual respect between human and elf. Humans would build a house and live in it and take care of it, and pass it on to their kids. Elves would like in the house and care for the house and the humans in it. Humans would see elves much, but they'd know we were there, and they'd make a point to show respect. Leaving milk and bread for us, keeping the roof in good repair. And we'd make a point to respect them – sweeping out the fireplace, warding off misfortune."

Hit breathed deeply, then continued again.

"And if there was no respect shown, elves have always had ways to demand that respect. Burnt food, leaky ceilings, scratching in the walls at night. But those steps were only rarely needed."

A darker tone entered his voice, into darkening sky.

"But in recent centuries, some humans have decided that if they have enough power, then they don't need to respect anyone. That if they can own a house, they can own the people who call that house home. Through elves' magical connection to our dwelling places, humans have been binding elves to their will. Horrible conditions, endless labor, no respect."

Tila had started calmly, but hits voice was shaking by the time hit finished.

"That's terrible," said Harmony. "That's so terrible, no one should be made to live like that. I– I know what that's like." To her mind came the thought of a little cupboard, of shouted commands to cook and clean and get out of sight.

It was good that the ceiling and floor were clear, here. It was good that the other four sides were open and endless air. She knew e wasn't trapped. Not any more.

They all lay back, thinking, feeling the last of the gentle floating feeling. A space outside the world.

Chapter Text

Harmony woke in her bed, in the ground-floor Gryffindor bedroom, in her four-poster bed. Hermione and Sophie were already moving around, but she kept the curtains drawn, surrounded in heavy crimson fabric. Reaching one hand out, she found her trunk at the side of the bed. Inside, her school uniform. Dark and heavy fabric. There was almost no difference between the girl's uniform and the boy's uniform, for all that Madam Malkin had made a fuss.

With a sigh, she wriggled into the uniform and drew the curtains apart. Sophie and Hermione had both left the room, leaving it Harmony alone. The room was so very Hogwarts. Ancient and austere and grand, rich enough to impress a Dursley, bland and utterly without personality. The only distinctive parts of the room were the tiny islands of the three desks, Hermione's stacked with neatly organized reading material, Sophie's pinned up music posters as far as the school regulations would allow.

Harmony sighed and thought back to her visit with Anna and Carrie, cutting out a wild flurry of colorful decorations, covering the walls in birds and butterflies and rainbows. It was so different there. So much freer, so much lighter, so much more herself.

Something from that conversation came back to her: "I – I'm worried that I might – might lose track of who I want to be and just be who other people want me to be. And it's better to be a girl, but that's not the end of the story, you know what I mean?"

Hogwarts had a very clear image of who it wanted her to be. It wanted her to be simple, understandable, to fit in the categories it understood. Being a girl is pushing it, the walls said. Don't try any more funny business. She could feel the pressure of the ancient walls, saying "Nothing ever changes. You cannot. You must not." It was so heavy, so confining, the rules, the expectations, the simplicity. She could get people to see her as a girl, and that was more right, but if everyone was staring at her, seeing a vision of her, could she even see herself anymore?

There had to be more than this, more that was possible. Tears rose to her eyes. She couldn't say why, not she knew that refusing their call never helped. Tears are a feeling. A feeling worth having. She drank her two potions, the nutritional supplement and the Nam-Dumu potion, that would prevent a boy's puberty.

But what she hadn't told Madam Pomfrey, was that she couldn't imagine becoming a woman, either. Women like Pomfrey, like McGonogall, like Pentunia. That wasn't her, couldn't be her. Wouldn't be her. And she couldn't say why, beyond the feeling of weight, confinement, pressure, expectation. She could imagine her body have a shape like a woman's, but that wasn't all there was to being a woman. To being a girl.

There had to be more than this.

Hagrid clearly wanted to be more, be free, and clearly wasn't. He couldn't even imagine being free, Harmony thought sadly.

Tila, the leader of the younger elves, hit knew what hit was doing. With a sense of purpose, Harmony found a bit of parchment and a quill:

Hi Tila,

It was great getting to know you and explore the castle. I had a great time floating above the Great Hall!

I wanted to learn more about the way you use hit and his -- are those used by a lot of elves, or did you come up with them, or something else? Am I correct in thinking that you're not a boy or a girl?

I asked because I'm trying to understand myself. People told me I'm a boy, and they were wrong, and I've told everyone I'm a girl. But that's not the end of the story. It feels limiting and wrong and I don't know why. Is this something that you or people you know have more experience with?

I don't know what I'm doing.

Also, is there a way to get around the rules saying we can't have decorations anywhere but our desks?

Your friend, Harmony

Harmony folded the note and put it on her bedside table. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and opened the door to the main common room.

"Hey Sophie," said Harmony unsteadily, sitting down at the long, heavily loaded breakfast table.

"Hey Harm', how're you doing?" Sophie said comfortingly.

"Not well. It's hard to say why."

Sophie nodded, spreading some jam on a piece of toast, giving space in their little corner of the Hall.

"I – I don't know who I am, who I want to be."

Sophie nodded again, turning to face Harmony more properly.

"I know I'm not a boy, but I feel like I don't know who I am."

Sophie patted Harmony gently on the back.

"I understand that feeling. I really do."

"I guess, I feel so alone and uncertain. What – what is there to do about that?"

Sophie lightly rubbed at Harmony's shoulder. "Well, I'm here for you, Harmony."

Harmony smiled.

"And besides that," continued Sophie, "I guess for me finding the text-world on the computer, finding out that I'm a spivak, it meant I'm not alone. On there, it's not just kids like us. It means I'm connected, I can be myself."

Harmony nodded, breathing a bit deeper. Leaning into Sophie's shoulder. "That gives me some hope, I guess. I mean, I feel like I have a lot in common with you. I was thinking I might be a spivak, trying out 'e' in my head. But I don't think that's me. But being connecting, being myself, I think that's possible."

"It's gonna be Ok, Harmony. I think the question is, who are you connected to? When do you feel most yourself?"

Harmony nodded, thinking carefully. She started to eat breakfast, but her mind was inward, remembering.

Remembering the feeling of soaring, wind in her face, exhilarating and unconstrained. Playing with Hedwig and with Fawkes. Learning and relaxing.

Remembering floating high in the sky above the Great Hall, in the secret spaces that Tila and Cherditch and Nothgyth kindly shared.

Remembering brilliant swirls of color in her room with Anna and Carrie, in the thrift store near Diagon Alley, in Hagrid's hut.

Scraping chairs brought her back to herself, and Harmony rose with the rest of the students, and with a sense of purpose.

After classes, Harmony picked up her boom, a change of clothes, and Hedwig, and headed for the practice field. Her pink top and her flower skirt were so much lighter, so much more alive.

Hedwig took off the moment she cleared the door, swooping excitedly down to the practice pitch. Harmony could feel her broom quivering in her hand, wanting to do the same.

Harmony smiled. At least these two understood her.

At the edge of the field, she leaned into her broom, swooping low out over the grass, getting a feel for how it liked to move.

After a few circuits of the pitch and after conferring with Hedwig, she thought she was getting an initial sense of the broom. It liked tight rolls to the right, and big lazy circles to the left. There was surely more to getting to know each other, but it was a nice start.

Harmony put her broom into a big left circle, and lay back on it, looking into the puffy sky. At times like this, she didn't have to be anyone, didn't have to be for anyone. Hedwig circled above, keeping a caring eye on her.

Harmony smiled and gave her owl a little wave, then pulled out Nonnormative genders and sexualities. Michael had given it back to her, and she'd already looked through all the pictures, so now she was trying to read through the words too. Even if the book was often dense, the message was clear: She wasn't alone.

The book really liked quoting what other people had to say on the subject, as if the author was also trying to feel a bit less alone.

One line in particular caught her eye: "I propose a set of gender acts that disrupt the categories of sex and gender, taking them beyond the binary frame."

Taking gender beyond boy or girl. Was that really something you could just propose? Was that really something you could just do?

Up here, everything felt possible. That made her smile. A fierce, intense smile, ready to take on the world.

Harmony stowed her book and spiraled her way up to Fawkes's tower. She gave him a little a wave and that intense smile, careful to stay out of Dumbledore's view.

With a burst of flame, Fawkes flew into the air near her. With a caw, he seemed to say "You're feeling bold today."

"Yes, Fawkes, I am," she responded, rolling her broom around him. "I know myself. Better than I did before. I'm not just a girl. There's part of me that is always floating, always flying, that needs to be free."

With another crackle, Fawkes flew into a burst of flame and out another, lightly sweeping Harmony with a wing, the comforting warmth of a blanket before a fireplace. As if to say "There's something of air in you, and something of fire."

With that, Harmony realized. "I'm like you, aren't I? There's a part of you that's always floating, too?"

The huge, gentle whoomf of his wings said "Now and forever."

"I'm glad, Fawkes. I'm glad I'm like you," said Harmony. "So, right. I know who I am, where does it go from here? How do I make this real?"

She was mostly talking to herself, but Fawkes gave a higher, piercing caw, and another crackle of flames that transported him around her. "Words and magic", he seemed to say. And then with another wing pat of goodbye, he was gone in another rumble of fire.

"Thank you, Fawkes," she said to the dissipating roll of heat.

Words and magic. She lay back again, thinking to the sky.

Words made her think of Sophie's e, em, and eir. Of Tila's hit and his. There was power in those words. Turning something they saw in themselves into something tangible, something everyone could experience, part of the structure of reality, of how things are.

What was floatier than she and her?

She could become se. Like the sea that ships sail on, like what eyes do. Higher in the mouth, higher in sound. Se smiled to erself.

As for her, how about er? The same idea as Sophie's e, em, and eir, but in er own direction. Quick and light, a nice gentle sound.

Those sounded nice. They sounded like er.

Se stretched out er arms to either side, feeling the wind billow past them. Yes, this was er. This was real.

As a multitude of Lumos and Nox echoed around the Charms class, Harmony's little circle of friends was practicing bringing something else into existence.

"Um, um, s– s– se is a nice friend? Did I do that right?

"Yeah, exactly, good job Neville!"

The bell rang, and Harmony made a beeline for Professor Flitwick, weaving through the mass of departing students to reach his raised desk.

"Excuse me, professor? Could I get your help with something?"

"Oh, yes my dear, what might it be?", he said in his high, friendly voice.

"Do you know if there's a charm like Wingardium Leviosa that can be cast on people?"

"Hm, well, there's several options. What are you hoping to accomplish with your spell?"

A deep breath. It might be strange, but everything magical was strange.

"I wanted to cast it on myself, and feel lighter, floatier."

Flitwick's eyes lit up. "Ah yes, I know just thing. You'll want to use the Levioso spell. An ancient spell, one of the oldest to be invented in England, in fact. Commonly used on the Dueling circuit, a good way to lift your opponent off their feet without tiring yourself out. Can't move them around, that's a more advanced spell."

Harmony thought it over. "That sounds great, Professor, but I don't want to be off my feet, just a bit lighter and bouncier."

Flitwick nodded rapidly, his whole body shaking with excitement. "Perfect, perfect. You'll want a modifier: Minus. Use the incantation Levioso Minus, and bring your arm in with a sweep to tap your core, right at the center of your chest."

Harmony smiled, and gave it a shot, sweeping er wand in and incanting the spell, Levioso Minus. There was a little upward jolt through er body, and then the spell dissipated. Flitwick clapped his hands. "Yes, yes, yes! You're on the right track. Just keep practicing, and let me know how you find it! I love when students are energized to learn more!"

"Thanks for your help, professor!", se said happily. A part of er was always floating, now and forever.

Chapter Text

Hi Harmony,

You're right, I'm not a boy or a girl. Hit and his are traditional words for elves like me, we've been using them for over a thousand years. I remember an old book said that humans once used them as well.

The best advice I have is, it's Ok to not know who you are. It's Ok to just know you're not what you've been told. You have days and days and days ahead. Exploring is beautiful.

Your friend, Tila.

P.S. Technically, the decoration rules don't mention your alternate dormitory – leave a note for the cleaning crew and no one needs to know.

After dinner, Harmony headed for the library with er group of friends, bouncing along happily. Se was getting better at maintaining er Levioso Minus.

"I love your patches, Harmony," said Neville quietly. Harmony smiled widely, mid-bounce. Hagrid had helped her brighten up her robes a bit.

"There's no rule against a few patches, see? 'Specially if they just happen to be colorful," he'd said.

Now se had colorful flower patches and birds and ideas for more.

As se landed, se hopped into the air with a twist, spinning around, letting er robes flare out around er.

That was trickier, and se bumped into Sophie as se landed. Sophie staggered into a suit of armor, but maintained eir balance, as they both giggled furiously.

There was low "Hrumph" from around the corner as Filch shuffled into view, holding a dripping mop.

"You kids, no respect," he said, glaring at their group and making for the suit of armor.

Mrs. Norris, Filch pet cat and constant companion, wound around his legs, her huge yellow eyes watching them all.

As they all crouch against the opposite wall, Filch adjusted the armor, saying "Ugh. No damage today. Lucky," before marching back around the corner.

They all shivered and let out sigh of relief, starting back for the library, a little more subdued.

They'd been in their little study room, for a good amount of time. Ron let out a yawn. "Blimey, I love to read as much as – well I love it just fine, but it's time we head to bed."

Sophie and Neville nodded, starting to get up. The sounds roused Harmony, who shook er head and returned to the world. Shaping, Slowing, Spinning Spells was Flitwick's recommendation for mastering spell modifiers, and it was surprisingly engrossing.

Hermione didn't even look up from her book, Hogwarts, A History, but stood shakily all the same, holding it in front of her with one hand while she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Mhm, time to go."

Out in the library, things were different than when they'd entered. The lights were dimmed, and the handful of remaining students were unfamiliar, older, giving them strange looks.

The checkout desk had a little sign saying "Librarian out – self-stamp", next to the date stamp and the inkpad. Madam Pince had never been gone before, but they each dutifully stamped their books and filed out into the corridors toward the Gryffindor tower.

The braziers in the castle were burning lower and many of the paintings were snoozing gently. Something was wrong, but Harmony couldn't quite put her finger on it.

They huddled together down the middle of the corridor, approaching their Charms classroom. Suddenly, the doorknob started rattling and something shot out of the keyhole.

It expanded into the translucent blue-and-orange form of Peeves, who caught sight of them with a squeal of delight.

"Ickle Firsties wandering around? Wandering around so late?"

Harmony slammed her book shut in surprise and looked up.

"Shut up, Peeves," said Ron, "we're not in any trouble."

"Oh but you are, naughty, naughty." With a smile wider than a living face could make, Peeves pointed to a small dusty clock high on the wall. "Why, the short hand points to eight! And the long hand right down. And you know what that makes you?"

"Out past curfew," Hermione whispered.

"Please, Peeves, please, you'll get us thrown out," said Harmony. The prefects had been very particular about the importance of curfew, though se wasn't quite sure if se'd remembered the punishment correctly.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, putting on his most innocent face. "Rules are rules, and it's for your own good you known."

"Peeves, we know you don't care about the rules," said Harmony, exasperated.

"Why, that hurts my feelings. In fact," Peeves paused to inhale dramatically.

Harmony drew er wand but couldn't think of a spell fast enough.

"FIRST YEAR STUDENTS!" Peeves bellowed, "FIRST YEARS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, round the corner, fleeing from the cacophony.
They ran right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.

"This it!" Ron moaned, as they scrabbled helplessly at the door, "We're done for! We'll be caught for sure!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves' shouts.

"Let me try something," Hermione said quietly, through her excitement. They all stepped back as she drew her wand, tapped the lock, and whispered "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears to the other side, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Hmmmm. What has old Filchy done for Peevesy recently?"

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Not messing, that doesn't sound like something I've done."

The angry conversation continued, but Harmony couldn't pay attention. Se could hear something in the darkness.

Deep, wet growls. Se turned around and as er eyes adjusted, se made out the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor, from wall to wall. They'd walked into a nightmare, a nightmare se'd been having for years.

Se tugged on Neville's sleeve, but he was too engrossed listening.

The dog had three heads, three pairs of rolling, angry eyes. Three noses, twitching and quivering at them. Three drooling mouths, saliva dripping in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

Harmony sunk to er knees, then onto er side. All three faces were Ripper, Aunt Marge's favorite dog, trained to attack and hunt and rip and shred.

Harmony covered er eyes, er head, er ears, curled into a tight ball. This had to be a nightmare. Had to be. There was to tree to climb, nothing, nothing. Se could feel er breath coming faster and faster, catching in er chest, coughing, wheezing.

Feet stomped and mouths growled, wood creaked and voices shouted. A rush of air and a tug at er arm.

And hot wet breath closing in. A massive tongue wrapped around er. Se struggled to breath, coughing on waves of saliva.

And with a thump se rolled to the ground, coughing and spitting and shaking.

Someone standing – Ron – slammed the door shut, and the group kneeled around Harmony. Sophie started wiping off the saliva while Neville rubbed er shoulder.

"So that's why it's forbidden! The third floor corridor," said Hermione. "And that trapdoor! Oh, but I'm sorry Harmony, I know you don't like dogs."

Harmony was still just hearing, not really up to thinking just yet.

"It's damn lucky that someone trained that dog to spit you out, Harm," said Ron, shaking his head. "What's a dog like that doing locked up a school, in a room that small? If any dog needs space and exercise, it's that one."

"We should never have run this way", said Hermione. "We could've gotten killed – or worse, expelled."

The voices of er friends were helping er. Breathing, se could handle that.

Footsteps, approaching. Filch, probably. Hermione whispered in a tiny, scared voice "We still might."

At this point, Harmony didn't care, as long as se never went through that door again.

"There, there, there they are," came his cracked old voice, and Mrs. Norris' soft padding footsteps. "What's all this, then?"

There wasn't anything they could do, not with Harmony still lying in a massive puddle of spit. They looked awkwardly down at their feet, or in Harmony's case everyone else's feet, still just breathing.

"Don't you know this corridor's forbidden? And out past curfew?", said Filch. "No respect, you kids these days."

"No, we didn't know this corridor was forbidden, actually," said Sophie, standing up tall enough to nearly match Filch. "We knew some corridor on this floor was forbidden, but no one ever said it was this one."

"Hrumph," said Filch angrily. "Well, sounds like we know where we'll start your detention, eh?", he said, licking his lips. "Signs, signs so big even you kids couldn't miss 'em. Detention each night for a week, starting tomorrow."

Hermione gave a long sigh of relief, helping Harmony to er feet.

Filch led them back towards the Gryffindor tower. "Don't try anything, Mrs. Norris will know," he said.

Two turns later, he stopped them to open a broom closet, pulling out a massive grey towel, pushing it into the arms of Harmony. "Clean yourself, you're getting the halls wet."

Harmony kept following, toweling the spit out of er hair, drying off er robes. The towel was big and warm and dry.

Soon enough, they were back in the tower, with a pointed reminder from Filch to not avoid detention. They all nodded and made their apologies, and turned in for the night.

Wrapped in er big warm towel, sharing a room with Hermione and Sophie, Harmony could finally feel a bit safer, breathe a bit easier. The dog, massive as it was, had been a nicer dog than Ripper. Se didn't have as much as a scratch on er. And with the size of its teeth, that must've been on purpose. Maybe whoever'd trained the dog had been nicer. Maybe there were no Aunt Marges here at Hogwarts.

Even Filch had taken care of her, in his own grumbly way.

Maybe se could be safe, here.