Harry Potter, himself

        Harry was in an old classroom he had repurposed to use in practicing potions. Harry had defected You-Know-Who, or at lest that is the version the prophet was printing. Harry was still trying to quell rumors the that he done it himself, and remind people that he was in fact only one of people who had a major hand in the dark lord's defect. Harry wasn't even the person who dealt the final blow, that had been his twin sister, Emily. Yet the prophet still claimed it was all him. Sure Voldemort was all focused on Harry not Emily, but still.

        Well, he still got a good laugh of what the prophet would think if they could see him now, struggling with potions. The one he was currently trying to make was polyjuice. The prophet probably would have claimed that Harry had brewed polyjuice potions all the time. The truth, he had no idea what he was doing. In fact, add to that fact he had never even attempted this potion before, as well as the fact that Emily was the potion brain of the Potter family not Harry, and the fact that he felt like he was crumbling under all the pressure of being the best, the prophet's latest article about him had him all distracted.

        The article was about Harry's girlfriend, Hermione, who he had started dating during their last year at Hogwarts. The two had only gone on a couple dates before they had to go searching for horcruxes. They hadn't gone past kissing until Voldemort was gone. And even then, had taken it slow, neither of them wanting to rush it. Of course, that wasn't the way the prophet told it. Hermione had long learned to just ignore it, and had told Harry to do the same. 'Well that easy for her to say' Harry thought. Unlike Harry, Hermione didn't have a team of newspaper writers trying get their hands on every juicy detail of her life.

        The Polyjuice potion Harry was trying to brew might have been fine, if he hadn't been so focused on the prophet. He hated how they always used some part of his private life as their front story, all most as much as he hated how they never manged to get any of the details right. He was surprised they had not only not tried to swap Hermione out for someone else, they had even got her name right. That was the only thing they got right. The prophet had said she was blonde.

        As he raged in his head about the prophet, Harry threw in the lacewing flies and the leeches. He was half-sure he used the right amount. Of course he did, Hermione had drilled him on this the night before. He wasn't going to just forget what she told him, right? He picked up the knotgrass. Wait, was he meant to be using knotgrass or grimnygrass? 'Oh well' he thought as he tossed in the knotgrass, not noticing a few strands of his hair falling into the cauldron as well. He dumped a jar of petroleum jelly in. Or was that meant to be fluxweed? Figuring any mistake he made could be easily fixed by either Hermione, Emily, or Madam Pomfrey, Harry kept going with the potion with no concern about how this might go wrong. Harry was sure the next ingredient it was either the powdered bicorn horn or powdered dragon scales. He was pretty sure Hermione had said dragon scales, and pretty sure she had said it for this potion. Harry grabbed the powdered dragon scales and threw that in. Next he added shredded boomslang skin to the bubbling liquid. Was that one skin or three? He figured better safe then sorry and tossed in two more. Then grabbed a handful of oyster shells and tossed them in as well. He was meant to use oyster shells, right? Figuring nothing bad could happen if he didn't put any hairs in, Harry grabbed the string spoon.

        Harry lowered to spoon into the cauldron. Just as the spoon was about to brake the surface of the bubbling liquid, the cauldron erupted. A thick plum of violet smoke shot out from the cauldron and engulfed the room. A burst of magic knocked Harry back, tossing his glasses off his face. Harry was left coughing as the smoke slowly dispersed.

        Something was wrong. Harry knew that from the start. He didn't have any reasoning for why something was wrong, or what that something was, he just knew. Well there was the fact that his cauldron just erupted violet smoke. But that wasn't what was causing his feeling of unease. Harry just had a feeling that something was terribly wrong. Like when you get a chill in your bones and know that something bad was close by. Except, Harry didn't have a chill in his bones. It was more like a creeping feeling in his veins. Emily would have called it her phoenix sense. That feeling in the phoenix fire in her veins that told her when something was safe or dangerous, or told her when something was going right, or going wrong. That sense had saved Emily's life more times then anyone could count, not that Emily would admit as much. Of course, unlike Emily, Harry wasn't a phoenix-born. Harry didn't have phoenix fire in his veins. Yet, Harry and Emily were twins. And somehow Emily's phoenix fire connected the twins. Which is how Harry had some small sense of the same phoenix sense Emily had. As Harry's sense was quite weak compared to the one Emily had, Harry knew that what ever was triggering his sense must be extremely wrong.

        "What...The....Bloody....Hell....Was...That?" Harry said between coughs as the air in the room began to clear. Was it just his imagination, or did his voice seem higher then usual. The smoke cleared the room and Harry examined it though his burly vision, which didn't really give him much of anything to go on.

        "What, happened?" Harry asked to the empty room. Ok, that defiantly sounded like a feminine voice tone. Come to think of it, he felt thinner then he normally did. And his robes felt bigger on him, like he was wearing robes in Dudley's size. Then there was the weird weight on his chest. Add to that the strange feeling in his crotch. And why did it feel like he had so much hair.

        Harry figured first things first; he needed to find his glasses. Once he had his glasses back on, he could examine what had happened and figure out why he felt so weird. Once he knew what was wrong, he could figure out how to fix it. It took Harry a minute of crawling around on the floor to locate his glasses. He picked them up and brought them to his eyes. Broken. Of course they were broken. Somehow he always manged to brake his glasses when ever he got into a mishap. If Hermione was here, she could have charmed them back into shape in a blink of an eye. Harry really did need to learn that spell, Hermione had often told him as much. Well it would do no good now. Just another thing to add to the list of things that would give the prophet a heart-attack if they heard about, he'll just jot it down right next to 'Blows up classroom with polyjuice potion'. If only that really would give the prophet a heart-attack, maybe then he could get a brake from their articles. Harry took another look at his glasses. In this condition, they wouldn't do him a lick of good. He fumbled around for a pocket in which he could place his glasses until he reached one of the girls, either one of them would be able to do the charm that would fix his glasses. Until then, Harry was just going to have find his way to Griffindor tower while all but blind.

        Harry walked out of the room and began to make his way. He may not have been able to see where he was going, but he didn't need to. Just like with the sense he gets from Emily's phoenix fire, Harry was able to sense where Emily was. It was sort of like having in instinctual divining rod for Emily's magical presence. If he didn't focus on where he was going and just put one foot in front of the other, he'd find himself walking towards where ever Emily happened to be at that time. Of course he wouldn't need to rely on this for very long, the sense worked both ways. Emily no doubt would all ready have felt something wrong with Harry and would be making her way down to him. All Harry need to do was met her half-way.

        Like Harry had thought, it didn't take long at all. After walking for only a few minutes, Harry came face to face with Emily. Though, with how burly his vision was, he couldn't tell it was Emily by looking at her. Though Harry wasn't aware that Emily wouldn't have been able to recognize him either, given his current state.

        "Hey, have you seen my brother, Harry? I think he's manged to get himself in some kind of trouble., again." Emily asked.

        "Emily?" Harry responded.

        "Yes, I'm Emily Potter. Now focus, have you seen my brother anywhere?" Emily said, getting slightly annoyed.

        "Emily, it's me."

        "I don't have time to play twenty questions. Have you seen Harry? Yes or no?" Emily asked, getting frustrated.

        "Em, it's me. I'm Harry!"

        Emily took a step closer and lifted the front of Harry's hair to revel the lighting bolt shaped scar that was Harry's defining feature.

        "Harry?"

        "YES! That's I've been trying to tell you. I thought I was supposed to be the one with the bad eye sight."

        "Bad eye sight? Harry, what happened to you?"

        "What do you mean?"

        "Well it's just that your... Oh, just come with me."

        Emily grabbed Harry's wrist and guided him towards one of the girls' bathrooms. Emily parked Harry in front of a mirror and pointed to it.

        "There, see."

        "Umm, Em, what I'm I supposed to be looking at?"

        "You can't see it?! How can you not see it?!"

        "Well you see, Em." Harry fished his glasses out of his pocket and held them in front of him. "I kind of can't see much of anything right now."

        "You really need to learn that charm."

        "That's what Hermione keeps saying."

        "And you should listen to her. Give them here."

        Emily quickly preformed the charm that would fix Harry's glasses then handed them back.

        "Here, put them on and you'll see what I was trying to show you."

        Harry put on the glasses. He looked into the mirror. Harry figured something must be wrong with the mirror, because his refection was covered up by an image of a black haired girl wearing glasses and oversized robes.

        "Who's that girl in the mirror? And why did you want to show me her?"

        "Well, Harry... You see the thing is....That's you."

        "What, like this mirror shows you how you would look if you were a girl? It doesn't even do it right, my robes aren't that big on me."

        "No, Harry. That isn't any kind of enchantment or charm. That is really how you look now."

        Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing, he wasn't a girl. Was he? Harry looked down to his hands. Yep, there were those girly hands drowning in robes three sizes too big for him, or he supposed the proper term was her, now that he, or rather she, was a girl. Boy that was going to get confusing real fast. Hopefully his, or rather her, predicament would be fixed by then. Harry looked back to the mirror. 'Is my hair really that long?' Harry thought to himself. He lifted a hand to her shoulder-length hair. For some reason, Harry seemed to like it this way. He gave her head a shake so he could feel her hair sway back and forth against her shoulders. Yeah, so that was really happening. Harry dropped her hand back down to her side. He took a longer look in the mirror. He realized that she was now the spiting image of his sister, Emily. Well, except for the oversized robes, and the glasses, and Harry's hair wasn't as long as Emily's was, and, well you get the point. Harry couldn't help but take a glance at the mounds that were the outline of Emily's breasts though her school uniform. Harry found himself finely becoming fully aware of the fact that he was now a girl. Which meant, that weight he could feel on her chest, must be because he had a girl's boobs. He had boobs. Harry felt a rush, a need to get a feel for his, or rather her, new boobs. Harry lifted her hands to her chest, preparing to grasp her boobs though the folds of his, or rather her, oversized robes. Emily stopped her before he was able to touch anything.

        "You can examine yourself later, in private. For now we should get you to the hospital wing."

        He should have figured that would happen. After all, what was he expecting? That Emily would just allow him to strip down in the middle of the second floor girls' bathroom so that he could examine his, or rather her, new feminine body? Or how about this one, after he did that Emily would take off her own clothes so they could compare bodies. Yeah right. Maybe in his dreams. In reality, Emily was much too meticulous about her appearance to allow even a single piece of clothing to be out of place in public. No way she would ever strip so much as a single piece while in public, or let Harry do that either.