Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes

A/N: Hey, there, peoples! I know, you're all probably wondering what I'm doing writing this when I have another, much bigger and better story to be working on, right? Well, I have been working on Re-Awakening (in fact, I wrote just short of two pages today). The thing is, this story idea popped into my head about three or so hours ago, and I ran with it. I plan on making it about seven chapters, max. Probably no more than five, really. Anyway . . .

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfic, now would I? It is all owned by Rowling, Scholastic, and Merlin knows how many others. I intend no copyright infringement nor do I expect a cash return on this, so no harm done. Now, enough babbling!

Weasleys' Wizarding . . . Whoops!

It was yet another glorious Hogsmeade weekend; the sun was shining brightly, there was hardly a cloud in the bright blue sky, and the recently recaptured Death Eaters were still in custody. No one could have asked for a better day to visit the bright, cheerful town, and every Hogwarts student year three and above were eagerly wandering about, enjoying himself or herself. That is, every student except for a certain raven-hared sixth year.

`Why did I ever agree to this? I must have been out of my mind!' Harry thought as he stood before Fred and George, who had asked to meet him in Hogsmeade about a new “business opportunity.” As it turned out, the so-called opportunity was really a new product the twins had come up with, and were, at the moment, attempting to coerce Harry into trying.

“Come on, Harry,” whined Fred.

“Yeah, you'll love it!” chimed in George. “We swear that it's completely harmless.”

“At worst, it'll only last a few days, up to a week maximum.”

Harry eyed the twins warily. “What does it do? And why ask me? Why not Ron?”

“Relax, Harry,” quipped George.

“It simply changes your voice to that of a high soprano as long as you chew on it,” Fred explained, holding out the candy in question.

“We call `em `Weasleys' Wailing Fruit Chews.'”

“Go on, then, try it.”

“As our benefactor, you're entitled to previews and free samples, so here you go!”

“And besides, we kind of, er . . .”

“Already tested Ron earlier, and now he's not quite . . .” George looked at Fred.

“Forthcoming.”

“Ah, good one. Forthcoming . . . in any more tests.”

Harry looked from Fred to George, watching their smiling faces closely, before resting his eyes on the brightly wrapped confection in front of him. Sighing, Harry picked the candy up out of Fred's hand. “Alright, alright, I'll do it. Besides, what doesn't kill me will only make me stronger.”

“That's the ticket, Harry!” said Fred.

“Yeah. Now, pop one in and see if it works (properly).”

Harry unwrapped the chew and brought it to his mouth. Before popping it in, he said, “Here goes nothing.” As Harry began chewing, he felt a strange tickling sensation spread down his throat.

“Well, go ahead. Say something,” George said, waving him on.

“Good day, gentlemen, how do you do?” asked Harry. His eyes widened when he heard his own voice sounding several octaves higher. He broke into a huge grin before launching into a rendition of “I'm a little teapot,” which left Fred and George rolling on the ground, laughing. Soon, Harry started laughing as well. The sound of his high pitched, trembling laughter in turn caused the three to laugh even harder. During one rather boisterous laugh, Harry threw back his head, and the chew slid down his throat, whole. This stopped Harry laughing immediately, and began a series of coughs.

“Hey, Harry, you all right mate?” inquired George.

“Yeah, you sound as though you swallowed a . . . oh dear.”

At the sound of worry in Fred's voice, Harry's eyes snapped onto the twins. “What? What's wrong?” But Harry's question was soon answered as he began to feel the same strange tingling sensation in his stomach. At first pleasant, it quickly became nauseating as it spread throughout his entire body. As the feeling of sickness passed, Harry then felt as if his entire body was on fire. He fell to his knees, grasping his stomach and moaning his discomfort. As quickly as it came, it left, leaving Harry hunched over on the ground.

Harry rose shakily to his feet, and began patting himself down, making sure everything still worked. `Well, nothing appears to be broken, nor does it seem as if I have any extra appendages.' He thought; that is, until he reached his chest, which had mysteriously swollen outwards. “Fred, George . . . What happened?” Harry's voice was different; still high pitched, but not as high as it had been. “Fred? George?”

“Umm, Harry. Mate. Don't know quite how to tell you this . . .” Fred looked from Harry to George.

“Perhaps you should see for yourself.” With that, George conjured a full body-length mirror in front of them. Harry stepped forward and looked at his reflection. Or, rather, her reflection.

“Fred . . . George . . .” this time Harry's voice was shaking with suppressed rage.

“Um . . . yeah . . .” was all Fred could respond.

“Oops? Sorry `bout that Harry . . . . ette.”

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A/N: Here's the next installment! Sorry if you don't like the length, but that's how this story will work. The chapters almost demand to end where they do (at least to me). Besides, shorter chapters mean quicker updates . . . Thanks to all my lovely readers who left a review! I love you all!

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I don't own any of this, nor do I intend to make a profit, so please don't sue me!

Harry . . . Ette

“Sorry? Sorry! Ooh, when I get my hands on you two . . .” Harry threatened, stepping closer to Fred and George, his voice loud and shrill. Fred and George both flinched, having been reminded all too easily of their mother. “What the bloody hell did you two do to me? Harmless indeed!” Fred and George both took a step back, giving themselves plenty of open space in case Harry decided to start throwing hexes (or nearby objects).

“H-Harry. Calm down mate.” George lifted his hands palm-up in defense and to indicate surrender.

“You know we'd never do this to you on purpose.” Fred, too, had his hands out.

“Well, unless provoked, of course.” Fred elbowed George hard in the ribs.

“Shut up, George!”

“Ow! Sorry.”

Harry whipped out his wand and waved it at the Twins, who watched in muted horror as ropes sprang forth and wrapped around both of them, tying them together back-to-back rather tightly. Leveling his wand once more, Harry said, “Start talking,” his voice low and dangerous. “What was in that candy, why did it affect me like this, and how long will it last? Is there an antidote?”

Fred turned his head around to look at George, who nodded once, before speaking. “Well, in order to alter the voice, we used a mild, slightly altered version of the - the polyjuice potion. As the chew dissolves, the potion is released in small amounts and absorbed in the throat, where it focuses and changes only it.”

“Unfortunately, just as we thought, if you swallow the chew whole, the potion is released in the stomach and spreads throughout your entire system, changing you entirely.”

“We worked hard on the theory, and it would appear we were correct.”

“Hey, Fred, can you imagine what this means for business?” George had an excited, faraway look in his eyes. “Just think of all the different products we'll be - ”. George continued to move his mouth, but no sound came out. The Twins both turned their heads to see Harry with his wand trained on George, his eyes flashing fire.

“If I were you two, I think I'd be a little more concerned about your present than your futures. That is, if I even let you live long enough to have one!” Harry finished in a snarl, once again forcibly reminding the Twins of their mother.

“Okay, okay. Sorry Harry!” yelped Fred, seeing as how George was still unable to speak due to Harry's Silencio spell. “To answer your last questions . . . well, we weren't sure as to how strong it needed to be, so we used a, ah, fairly powerful batch of potion.”

“Meaning . . .”

“Well, the good news is that it'll wear off in about a week or so, at which point you'll be back to your abnormal self.”

“The bad news?” demanded Harry.

“There's, um, no antidote, so . . .”

“I'm stuck like this for a week.” George nodded in confirmation. “A week? A WEEK! Oh, that's just bloody great! What the heck am I supposed to do for an entire week?” Harry began to pace back and forth, muttering to him - her - no, himself.

“Get a perm.” Harry spun on his heel only to be met with two loud pops as Fred and George Apparated away, grinning mischievously. Harry scowled heavily at the spot where the Twins had sat before he relaxed his shoulders and sighed.

`One week. One bloody week! What am I going to do? As much as I'd like to, I can't miss any of my classes.' At that thought Harry smiled weakly. `Looks like Hermione has finally worn off on me.' Suddenly, Harry's face lit up. `Hermione! Of course, why didn't I think of her sooner! Surely she'll know what to do!' Harry turned to head back for the castle, but stopped as he again caught sight of himself in the mirror George had conjured.

Staring back at him was a young woman with shoulder-length black hair (with bangs that stuck out in random directions) and the same bright green eyes he was so familiar with. Harry suddenly realized that he was no longer wearing his glasses, and began to look around frantically for them, out of habit. He found them lying in the grass a few feet away, where they had fallen off earlier. Harry put them on, only to find everything had become blurry. `I guess I don't need glasses in this body. I'd better keep these for when I change back, though.'

Harry pocketed the glasses and returned to his self-inspection. Judging by the way his robes were hanging off him, he had shrunk around half a foot in height. His jaw had become less prominent and his lips seemed to have filled out some. His nose, however, was exactly the same as before, and when Harry lifted the flyaway bangs off his forehead, he found his scar staring back at him. `Well, so much for that hope,' he thought.

Harry let his hair fall back down, and looked at his hands. They were much smaller and delicate-looking, and certainly smoother and softer. Looking back in the mirror at his reflection, Harry's male mind noticed that he was now in possession of a female body. A fairly curvy female body, at that. Harry blushed slightly and looked away, feeling embarrassed and extremely awkward. `I just checked myself out . . . and liked it! What's wrong with me?'

A sudden grim thought struck Harry. `If I have . . . these . . . then does that mean that I have . . . ?' Harry was suddenly conscious of an extra space in his boxers. His faced paled considerably, before blushing furiously, and Harry let out a meek “Eep!”

`Okay, okay . . So there have been a fair number of . . . changes. But I'm still Harry, right? Right. Now, focus! Focus! What am I going to do? That's right; see Hermione and get her help. Alright, let's go!' With that, Harry renewed his march to Hogwarts castle.

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A/N: Oookay. I know it's been a long, long, looong time, and I apologize. RL has given me absolutely NO time to work, and even less time to relax. I said this was the busiest time of year for me, and it is. Sorry if I've estranged some people, but hey, at least it hasn't been a month! I'm not that bad!

DISCLAIMER: See Previous Chapters (I'm to the point where I a: have run out of ideas, and b: really don't care). Besides, it's not as if you actually read these things anyway.

Changes

Fortunately for Harry, Fred and George had chosen an out-of-the-way spot to meet, so nobody had witnessed his change. Unfortunately, however, this “idealistic” location was on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, meaning Harry had to pass through the town in order to get back. At first, everything was going smoothly, and there was little incident. Harry, used to people staring at him for being the Boy-Who-Lived, ignored the many looks he was getting, not realizing they were for an entirely different reason. However, Harry's luck was about to run out as he passed in front of the Three Broomsticks.

“Hey there, beautiful,” Harry heard as an arm draped over his right shoulder. “Haven't seen you `round here before.” A glance to his left confirmed Harry's suspicions; Seamus Finnigan was hanging off him, and, unless Harry was mistaken, was leading them slowly into the Three Broomsticks. Suddenly, there was another arm attached to Harry's other shoulder.

“How about we take you around, show you some fun?” Harry couldn't believe it; it was Dean Thomas, a.k.a. boyfriend of Ginny Weasley. Before Harry could even react, they had led him into the Broomsticks and plopped him down at a nearby booth table. Harry was still sandwiched between Seamus and Dean, finding himself trapped with no escape. “So, gorgeous, where are you from?” Harry, whose mind was still scrambling to make sense of the scene, could only stare at Dean, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Seamus chuckled. “Looks like she's been dazzled by our irresistible charms, Dean.” Harry had a witty retort finally ready, but stopped short, snapping his mouth shut, his eyes widening in shock. Seamus was running his hand along his inner thigh, and then felt Dean's arm drape around his shoulder and felt his fingers brush against her . . .

Harry had had enough. He jumped up suddenly, knocking over the table and surprising both Dean and Seamus. On pure instinct, Harry drew back his hand and let loose a colossal slap, hitting both boys in one fell swoop; sounding off a loud SMACK that echoed in the already dead-quiet room. Fuming, Harry spun around and stormed out, leaving Dean and Seamus looking guiltily at the other Hogwarts students; large, anger, red, hand-shaped marks on their cheeks.

It took several minutes for Harry to calm down enough to realize that he was walking the wrong way. Harry stopped and spun around, only to face a sight he'd much rather not. Draco Malfoy was walking towards him, talking to a small band of Slytherins. Some of their conversation reached Harry's ears. “All right, you all know your jobs. Be at your places on time, and Potter will get his. Just remember, leave the Mudblood to me.” The all voiced their understanding, and Malfoy dismissed them. Before Harry could move, Malfoy spun around and saw her. For a brief second, Malfoy's face was one of surprise, but then the trademark smirk was back in place, something new glistening in his eyes that Harry had never seen before.

Malfoy walked up to Harry and held out his hand. “Hello, pleased to meet you. My name is Draco Malfoy.” Reluctantly, Harry reached out to shake the offered hand, doing his best not to reach out and crush it, as it would completely blow his cover. But instead of shaking hands as Harry was expecting, Malfoy bowed down and placed a kiss on Harry's knuckles. Harry did his best not to gag out loud. “So, which pureblood family are you from? For only such beauty could come from a pureblood.”

“Excuse me!” said Harry, ripping his hand from Malfoy's grasp. “But I happen to have a Muggle-born mother, and I'm proud of it!” Instantly, Malfoy's face changed; his smirk lost any trace of pleasantness it had once held and was now a full-fledged glare.

“Half-blood!” Malfoy spat out. “Looks like someone needs to teach you proper manners and put you in your place!” Malfoy grabbed Harry's wrists and used them to shove Harry against the nearby brick wall, hands stretched useless over his head. Malfoy stepped closer to Harry, very close. “A Half-blood like yourself is little better than a Mudblood. Know your place - you will do as I say, when I say it. I am your master now.” Malfoy pressed himself bodily against Harry, smothering him. Harry could feel . . . Malfoy . . . pressing into his leg, followed shortly by Malfoy's attempts at trying to kiss Harry roughly.

Harry turned his head away, only to have Malfoy grab his chin with one hand and turn it back. “Come now, be a good little whore and put out for your master.” That was as far as Malfoy got. Harry, whose brain had finally whirred back into action, jumped into action. While Malfoy may have had his hands pinned, Harry wasn't completely helpless. Harry raised his right foot and brought it down full force on Malfoy's foot, heel first. Malfoy stepped back, giving Harry all the room he needed. Before Malfoy could retaliate, Harry, using the wall as leverage, thrust her knee hard as she could smack into Malfoy's groin. Malfoy's face paled and his hands shot down to his crotch. Hands now free, Harry pulled her right fist back and hit Malfoy square in the nose, knocking him down. His way now clear, Harry gave Malfoy one last good kick before turning and tearing off.

Just as he was passing Zonko's, Harry's foot caught on the hem of his robes and he fell. “Ow, my knee!”

“Hey, are you all right, there?” Harry looked up and smiled hugely; never before had he been so glad to hear Ron's voice. Harry took Ron's hand as he helped pull Harry up.

“Yeah, thanks.” Harry was still smiling. Harry noticed Ron's ears turning slightly red as he looked away, muttering something that sounded like, `Don't mention it.' Harry's face changed to one of concern. “Ron, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I'm fine; I'm fine.” Ron whipped his head around to stare at Harry. “How - how do you know my name? Do I know you?”

“Ron, it's - ” Harry was cut short, however, by a loud noise behind them.

“Oi! Ron! RON!! There you are! Quit flirting and get a move on, we haven't got all day, and we still need to find Harry!” It was Katie Bell, the new Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron blushed bright red and turned to leave.

“All right, all right, I'm coming. If I didn't know better I'd say you got a broomstick shoved up your - ”

“RON!”

“Okay! Sorry!” Ron looked over his shoulder at Harry. “Well, it - it was nice meeting you. See you around.” Ron dashed off to join the team, blushing again.

`Hmm, that was . . . bizarre. Is it just me or is Ron acting strangely?' Harry began walking toward the castle again, a little slower after having hurt his knee, both from tripping and when he hit Malfoy. `Maybe he's feeling sick? Oh well, I'm sure it's nothing too serious. Now, let's get the heck over to Hogwarts and find Hermione. She'll know what to do, she always does.' With that, Harry broke into a light jog, making sure this time he didn't trip on his robes.

When Harry reached the Great Hall, he was panting, out of breath, and there was a stitch in her side. Harry paused a moment to catch his breath and plan his next move. `I need to find Hermione as soon as possible. Where would she most likely be?' Harry smiled to himself and set off for his destination. Not wanting to waste any time, Harry quickly made his way over to the front desk and Madam Pince as soon as he stepped into the Library. “Excuse me, Madame Pince?” Harry asked quietly. Madam Pince looked up from her stack of books and parchment.

“Yes, how may I help you, dear?”

“I'm looking for Hermione. Hermione Granger. Is she here?”

“Hmm, I believe Miss Granger was here earlier, but she left quite a while ago. Sorry, dear.”

“Oh. Well, thank you anyway.” As Harry walked out of the library he was beginning to get worried. `What if I can't find her? What if she finished here and went to Hogsmeade and I missed her?' Harry stopped in the hallway, realizing he had no clue where to look next. `I'll try the Common Room next, maybe she's in there or her dorm room.'

Harry said the password as he neared the portrait, leaving the Fat Lady with no time for chitchat. Walking to the center of the room, Harry found Hermione's favorite spot vacant. `She must be in her dorm, then. Only one way to find out . . .' Harry took a few tentative steps up the girls' dormitory stairs, and when nothing happened she pushed forward more bravely. Just as Harry had expected, the sixth year dorms were at the very top of the tower, just like in the boys' side. Knocking on the door, Harry called out, “Hermione? Hermione, are you there?” There was no response. Harry opened the door a crack, then a little more until he had a big enough opening he could stick his head through. He was easily able to pick out Hermione's bed, it being the cleanest one. However, Hermione wasn't in her room.

Harry made his way dejectedly down to the Common Room. `Where is she? If only I had some means to locate her . . .' Suddenly, Harry froze, the obvious answer hitting like a Bludger; The Marauder's Map. `Potter! How could you be so dense? I'll just run up to my dorm and get the Map, and then . . . I'll . . .' Harry had been walking towards the boys' staircase as he was thinking, but stopped when he remembered his . . . situation. Fortunately, Harry had a ready solution; looking around to make sure no one was watching, Harry pulled out his wand and rapped his head, a cold sensation sweeping down him as he became Disillusioned.

Harry snuck up the stairs and into his dorm. As son as the door was closed he let out a sigh of relief, but kept the Disillusionment Charm on, just in case. Striding over to his trunk, Harry retrieved the Map from its hiding place and spread it out before activating it. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” The lines had scarcely finished etching themselves over the ancient parchment when Harry began scouring over it with his eyes. It was not long before he came upon Hermione's dot, located up on the seventh floor corridor in a familiar room. `Ah, the Room of Requirement. Well, at least I'm guaranteed privacy there.' Harry wiped the Map clean and, after much internal debate, placed it back in his trunk before heading back down to the Common Room and on to the seventh floor.

Soon Harry stood before the entrance to the Room of Requirement, once again out of breath from having run up all the stairs (even with the short cuts it was a long trek). Harry placed his hand on the doorknob, took a deep, steadying breath, and proceeded inside. “Hermione?” he called out, breathlessly. There was a flurry of motion, and Harry was presented with an image of Hermione, standing in the center of the room, wand drawn and held ready at her side.

“Yes. Who are you? What do you want?” There was a slight edge to her voice, and Harry could see a small pile of homework scattered on a table behind her.

“Oh, Hermione, I'm so glad I found you!” Harry rushed forward and embraced Hermione briefly, much to the brown-haired bookworms surprise (and discomfort). “You wouldn't believe what happened to me. Fred and George - a fruit chew - changed - Seamus and Dean - Malfoy - Ron - ” Harry had to stop here and catch his breath, still exhausted from his journey from the Gryffindor Common Room.

“What - what are you talking about? Who are you?” Hermione was looking at Harry as if she thought her crazy.

“Hermione, it's me. Harry” There was a silent pause for several seconds before Hermione burst out laughing.

“You-you're Harry?” Hermione had to pause in order to hold back her snorts. After she had calmed down she looked at Harry closely. “Nice joke, I needed a laugh, thanks. Now, seriously, who are you and what do you want? As you can see, I'm right in the middle of my studies, and I'm rather busy.”

“But Hermione, it is me! I am Harry!”

“Oh, come off it! You couldn't possibly be Harry. First off, and most important, you're a girl, Harry's a boy. Second, Harry's much taller than you. And third, only Harry has his scar. Where's yours?” Hermione had her arms crossed, almost glaring at Harry. Harry sighed before lifting up his bangs, revealing the accursed mark; the bane of his existence. Hermione's eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up. “Th-that's - but - but . . . Harry?” Harry glumly nodded his head. Hermione took one last look at Harry before she fainted, falling to the floor. Harry, who still retained his Seeker reflexes, caught her before she hit.

Laying her gently on the couch, Harry drew his wand, pointed it at Hermione and cast, “Ennervate!” Hermione's eyes flickered before opening, looking confused. She appeared to focus on Harry's eyes as if drawn to them.

“H-Harry?”

“Yes, Hermione, it's me. Are you all right? You fainted.”

“Yes, Harry, I'm fine. But what about you? Your voice is different, higher? Do you have a cold?”

“No, Hermione, I'm perfectly healthy. I'm just a girl now.”

“What?” Hermione's eyes flicked over the rest of Harry before staring back into his eyes. “Harry?”

“Yes, Hermione?”

“I think I'm going to . . . to . . .”

“Faint,” Harry supplied for her as she slipped back into unconsciousness once again. Harry sighed and revived her again. “Hermione? Hermione, are you awake?”

“Yes, yes, I'm up.” Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes widening yet again. Seeing a pattern beginning to quickly develop, Harry spoke up.

“Whoa, there, Hermione. Don't pass out on me again, I can't keep reviving you forever, you know. I need your help.”

“What? My help? Why?”

“Well, you always have the answers. And right now, I've got a major problem here.”

“But, but how? How did this happen?” Harry quickly recounted his meeting with the Twins, not failing to add fairly derisive comments about them in the process. “I - I don't know, Harry. I can't think of anything I can do to help. This is beyond me, truthfully.” Harry's face fell. “The only one who can help us now is Dumbledore.”

Harry's face filled with horror. “Oh, no! Please, Hermione, not Dumbledore. I don't want anybody else to know! This is embarrassing enough as it is!”

Hermione looked at Harry warily. “Harry,” she began gently. “I hate to say this, but you need to see Dumbledore.” At this Harry looked away. “What will people do tomorrow when you haven't shown up? What about your classes? You certainly can't just waltz in without some sort of story to explain. That's why we need to see Dumbledore. He can help us make a cover story for the next week.” Harry looked grim. He sighed before looking at her and saying,

“You're right, as always. But, hey, at least it's just Dumbledore. I'd never hear the end of it if Snape ever found out. All right, let's go get this over with.” Harry and Hermione stood up from the couch and began to make their way to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

A/N: Okay! There ya go! The next one will probably take some time. This week I have to prepare for my District Solo competition (I'm playing Popper's Tarantella for cello, if any of you know what that is or care). Cross your fingers for me to get a I rating! Also, I have to read a book for English, and probably got some more poetry to write . . . anyway, you get the idea. I'll write whenever I can, but don't expect another update for a while. *runs and hides from angry mob that's carrying torches, spears, pitchforks, and stuffed cabbage*

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A/N: Ooookay . . . I know it's been a long, long, long while since you last heard from me on this one, and I am sorry about that. However, I figured that it would be more greatly appreciated if I updated Re-Awakening than this one. That's not to say I don't care about this one, just that I had slightly higher priorities. Rest assured, however, that I will not be giving up on this piece. I intend to see it through.

Disclaimer: The hip bone's connected to the . . . femur. The femur's connected to the . . . knee bone. The knee bone's connected to the . . . whoops! Wrong pointless banter. Ah, here it is! Hmm-hmm. I hereby state that the following work is fanfiction, meaning it is not mine, nor am I making any money off of it. This was made purely for entertainment purposes, and should be read as such. So, please don't sue. Now, on with the show (hip bone's connected to the . . . femur . . . .).

The Plan

As Hermione dragged Harry through the halls, Harry thought he'd try his case one more time. “Listen, Hermione, I don't think Dumbledore needs to be involved in this. I mean, he already - ”

“Harry!” Hermione was silent as they rounded another corner, passing a couple of students. “Harry,” Hermione began again once she had checked that they were clear, “I told you already, there's nothing I could possibly do to help you, and certainly not for an entire week. It's frankly beyond me!”

“But, Hermione - ”

“No, Harry! Besides,” Hermione said, turning right, “we're here.” Sure enough, just down the hallway Harry could see the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. When Harry saw who was standing next to the statue, she gave a strangled cry, grabbed the back of Hermione's robes and, before Hermione had taken a step, pulled them both back around the corner they had come from.

“Hey! Let go of me! What's the big idea?”

“Shh!” Harry poked his head around the corner to see if they had been spotted.

“Harry, what's going on?”

“It's Snape.”

“What?”

“Snape. He's standing in front of the gargoyle. Now how am I going to see Dumbledore?!”

“Quite simple,” came a voice from behind Harry.

“Oh, really? Harry began to turn around as he continued, “And how do you suppose we - O-oh. H-hello Professor Dumbledore, sir.” For Harry was now standing face-to-face with Dumbledore, and it was him that had spoken.

Smiling, and with his blue eyes twinkling, Dumbledore said, “Now that you've seen me, what else may I do for you Miss . . .”

Harry could only stutter at being caught so off guard. “Um - uh - um - I - er - I mean - ” Stepping in front of Harry, Hermione cut off his rambling.

“Professor, my friend Har-r-riet and I need to speak with you. Privately. Dumbledore took one shrewd look at Hermione, then at Harry, who was trying his best to hide behind Hermione.

“Very well. Follow me, ladies.” Harry looked around, confused, until he remembered his current situation and fell into step after Hermione, a groan barely suppressed. As the three rounded the corner and approached the gargoyle, they found Snape waiting, and in an apparently impatient mood.

“Headmaster!” Snape began walking forward to meet them. “There has been a most heinous crime committed! One of my prize students, indeed one of Hogwart's finest, has just been viciously assaulted in Hogsmeade by a fellow student.” Dumbledore's eyes hardened slightly.

“Who was it, Severus? What happened?”

“Draco Malfoy was approached by a half-blood female, who then attacked him. Albus,” Snape said, leaning closer, “I have reason to believe the assault was also sexual in nature. It would appear that she approached Draco wanting . . . intercourse. When Draco refused her advances, she then tried to force him. Draco is in the hospital wing.” Snape paused, the air heavy. “As you very well know, Albus, this will not only mean immediate expulsion, but possible Ministry involvement as well. I want the attacker, I want her now, and I want her gone.” Snape stepped back, glaring as if daring anyone to defy him.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “Rest assured, Severus, I shall personally conduct a thorough investigation. Now, is there any other information you can give me?”

“We're most likely looking for a sixth or seventh year student. According to Draco's description, she is just under one and a half meters tall, with long black hair and green eyes.” Standing once more behind Hermione, Harry shifted nervously, his stomach tied in knots. If Snape recognized him, he was done for . . .

“Thank you, Severus. If anything develops, I will inform you right away.” With a curt nod, Snape spun on his heel and marched away, black cloak billowing behind him. Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He wasn't left with much time for relief, however, as Dumbledore and Hermione started toward the gargoyle again immediately. Harry was worrying so intently about what was to happen in Dumbledore's office that he almost walked right past it; indeed he would have if Hermione hadn't grabbed his arm.

“Hmm, let's see . . . Ah, yes. Puking Pastilles.” Harry could only stare at Dumbledore incredulously. Seeing Harry, Dumbledore smiled, his eyes returned to their normal sparkling state, before explaining. “A creation of the Weasley twins. Quite an amusing treat, actually. Very entertaining.” As Harry and Hermione got on the rotating staircase behind Dumbledore, he turned to face them and asked, “Now, what was it you wanted to discuss, Miss Granger and, Harriet was it?” Before Harry had a chance to say anything, Hermione spoke.

“Well, you see, Professor, Harriet is the problem.”

`Thanks a lot, Hermione,' Harry thought, doing his best to control herself. The sound of the door closing, however seemed to snap something in Harry. `Screw it.'

“Thanks a lot, Hermione.”

“Harry, I told you already, I can't help you! Dumbledore is the only person we can turn to.”

“I am afraid I do not entirely follow you two.” Harry and Hermione faced Dumbledore, having quite forgotten he was there. “What is it that only I may do, and why did you call Harriet `Harry'?”

Harry pressed his palms into his temples and then rubbed his eyes. `Man, I really don't want to do this. I really, really don't want to do this. But . . . Hermione's right, of course. She's always right.' Harry took a deep breath. `Whew, okay, let's get this over with.' Letting his breath out in a sigh, Harry dropped his arms and looked up at Dumbledore. “Because, sir, it is me.” Seeing Dumbledore's nonplussed look, Harry lifted her bangs up of her forehead, revealing his scar. Dumbledore's eyes widened, before he turned, walked behind his desk, sat down, and summarily shoved several lemon drops into his mouth at once.

After a brief moment of silence, Dumbledore spoke. “This certainly is quite the . . . development. Please, if you don't mind, please explain to me exactly how it is the Boy-Who-Lived is now the Girl-Who-Lived.”

“Well, it all started with a letter from Fred and George Weasley . . .” And so Harry told Dumbledore the details of his meeting with the Twins, ending with, “And now I'm stuck like this for a week!” By this point Harry had taken up pacing back and forth, his arms waving wildly. Having finished her rant, Harry stopped and looked over at Dumbledore, who sat with his blue eyes twinkling and the hint of a smile beneath his beard.

“What? What is it?” Harry asked. “I know that look, Dumbledore. What are you scheming?”

“Now, now, Harry. I'm not `scheming' anything, as you so put it. Just merely thinking of what to do with you.” At this point, Dumbledore's eyes were almost sparkling.

“And what would that be?” Harry asked cautiously. He definitely did not like the way things were going. `I knew this was a bad idea.'

“I haven't decided yet, but I do have an idea.” Harry groaned inwardly. “For now, let us focus on creating your new background.” Dumbledore stood up and walked to the side of his desk. “If you are going to remain a student here at Hogwarts, I suggest you wear attire appropriate for a school setting.”

“What do you mean, Professor? What's wrong with my clothes?”

“Um, Harry?” Hermione stepped forward slightly. “Your clothes may have been fine when you were a boy, but, well, they aren't quite as . . . effective, now that you're a girl.” Harry still looked slightly confused. His clothes were on, everything important was covered. So what was the problem?

“Perhaps a visual aid would be better,” said Dumbledore as he waved his wand, causing a full length mirror to appear. Harry stepped closer and looked at his reflection. `Oh' was the only word that came to mind. Harry's clothes, which had always been rather baggy on him, were now positively loose. Harry's shirt was so wide and low that most of her shoulders were exposed, and Harry guessed that when he bent over, he would be showing more that she wanted. Since Harry wasn't aware he would be changing sexes later that day, he hadn't worn anything under his shirt, the result of which was clearly visible in the brisk autumn air. His jeans had slipped a considerable amount, and were riding so low they almost fell off. A red-faced Harry quickly whipped up his Hogwarts robe and wrapped it around himself.

“Exactly.” Harry turned his head to look at Dumbledore, who still had that irritating smile on his face. “Let's fix you up, shall we?” Without waiting for Harry to even move, Dumbledore had his wand up and moving. After a few wild flicks, swishes and jabs, Harry was wearing a whole new wardrobe. The only difference now between her and Hermione was the emblem; Hermione had the Gryffindor emblem while Harry's looked more like the crest of Hogwarts. “There, much better, don't you think?” Harry merely glared at Dumbledore.

“Now, let us give you a name.” Dumbledore looked at Harry for a moment with one hand stroking his long beard. “Miss Granger?” he said, looking up at Hermione.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Would you care to assist an old man with a most unusual challenge?” Hermione nodded, before scrunching her forehead in deep thought, studying Harry like one of her prized textbooks. After several minutes, she looked back at Dumbledore.

“What about . . . Mary Jane Porter?” Dumbledore dismissed Hermione's suggestion with a wave of his hand. “No. Clever, but it's too similar to Harry's real name.” There was another moment's silence. “Miss Granger, what was it you called Harry earlier, in the hallway?”

“Harriet, Professor Dumbledore.” Dumbledore seemed to think for a moment before he looked at Harry, a smile clearly visible.

“Harriet Lillify.” Hermione seemed confused for a moment, before here eyes widened and she smiled, too.

“Brilliant, Professor.” Harry was completely confused; Dumbledore and Hermione obviously knew something, but Harry was lost as to what it was. Before he could ask, however, Dumbledore spoke again.

“Thank you, Miss Granger. My brain surprises even me sometimes. And, with that done, you may go. Harry, since your, ah, incident, we will begin today's lesson now, in order to prevent anyone else from finding out about you.” As Hermione was opening the door, Dumbledore called her. “Remember, from this point out we are to refer to Harry as `Harriet'.”

“Right, Professor. See you later, Harriet. Good luck with your Occlumency training!” With that, Hermione disappeared, the door creaking closed behind her. Harry stood, looking at the door where Hermione had last been.

`What have I just gotten myself into?'

“Harry, before we begin our lesson, I would like to ask you something.” Harry turned and sat down in front of Dumbledore, noticing the grave tone his voice carried.

“What is it, sir?”

“I happened to notice that many of Professor Snape's descriptions seemed to fit you, to a T. You wouldn't happen to have had anything to do with the assault, would you?” Harry locked eyes with Dumbledore, and somehow, Harry realized that Dumbledore already knew.

“Sir, I swear I it wasn't my fault! It was all Malfoy. He was the one - ' Dumbledore held up his hand, silencing Harry.

“Calm down, Harry. I won't pass judgment until I've heard what you have to say. Somehow, I believe that Mr. Malfoy may have . . . skewed the facts.” Harry was slightly relieved; at least he wasn't expelled (yet). Taking a deep breath, Harry began to recount his meeting with Malfoy, not meeting Dumbledore's eyes while he spoke. When he finished, Harry finally looked up at Dumbledore, curious and yet afraid to see what would happen.

Dumbledore sighed, and for a brief moment his age seemed to catch up with him. “I see. Unfortunately, Harry, there were no witnesses, and the only evidence is your testimony versus his. There isn't much I can do.” Seeing Harry's sullen look, he added, “Rest assured, though, that measures will be taken. Draco Malfoy will be punished.” The next several minutes were spent in silence, Dumbledore closely watching Harry for her reaction.

After seeing nothing, Dumbledore asked, “Harry, are you ready for the lesson, or would you like to wait?” Harry was silent for a moment, before he nodded his head.

“I'm ready, Professor.” Dumbledore stood and waved his wand, the door sealed itself and the noises of the castle faded into nothingness. Harry and Dumbledore squared away, facing each other. Clearing his mind, Harry said, “Whenever you're ready.”

“Excellent! Let's begin. Legilimens!”

*****

Harry was walking toward the Great Hall and dinner, his head throbbing slightly. His lesson had been intense, yet satisfying. He had managed to block out Dumbledore for almost half an hour before Dumbledore finally wore him out. The result was a headache, which had subsided down to a dull twinge. After the lesson, Harry had retreated to the quiet of the library, where he spent the remainder of the afternoon attempting to do his homework. He gave up when the rumbling in his stomach became louder than the pounding in his head.

As he approached the doors of the Great Hall, Harry heard the noise and chatter dying down and Dumbledore's voice ring out. Curious as to what the announcement might be, Harry hurried into the Great Hall.

“Ah, perfect timing. Students and faculty, allow me to introduce you to Harriet Lillify, an exchange student that will be staying with us for the next week.” Harry froze on the spot; Dumbledore was standing, the same smile on his face from earlier, and the entire student body was staring at her. “Harriet is returning briefly to England after having moved with her family to the United States several years ago.” At this there was a rush of whispers before silence fell again as Dumbledore spoke.

“During the day, one female student will be Harriet's guide to Hogwarts, with a different girl every day. Harriet will follow the selected students around their individual classes, learning all of what Hogwarts has to offer.” Harry blinked a few times. What was Dumbledore up to?

“Furthermore, each night Harriet will sleep in the House dormitory of her guide for the day. Harriet will begin with Miss Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin, - ”

`WHAT!!'

“ - followed by Miss Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw, Miss Susan Bones from Hufflepuff, and finally, Miss Hermione Granger from Gryffindor.”

`DUMBLEDORE!! You daft, dippy, ding-batty, bloody, barmy old codger!' Harry had his fists clenched, and was doing his best not to curse Dumbledore. Under his breath, Harry swore, “Mark my words, Old Man, I'll get you back for this!”

“I hope you will all show Harriet what makes Hogwarts one of the premiere schools of magic. Thank you. And now, tuck in!” As the food appeared, Harry glared at Dumbledore, who seemed to almost have a smug smile hidden behind his beard. Glumly, Harry made his way over to the Slytherin table, noticing with a small feeling of satisfaction that Malfoy was missing. Harry sat down at one of the few empty spaces available, which, of course, happened to be smack between Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode. As he sat down, Harry received contemptuous glares from both girls. Harry looked back up at Dumbledore, who was engaged in conversation with Professor McGonagall.

`Oh, Dumbledore, you are really gonna pay for this!' Harry sighed and began to serve himself, hoping against hope that he would be able to survive the next week with his sanity, dignity, or both still intact.

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A/N: Hello there, to all my happy little readers! Welcome to another installment of the Wheezes. But, before we get started, I have a little challenge for you, something for all y'all to think over. I have done something very clever with Harry's pseudonym. Bonus points and bragging rights to the smart bunny (or bunnies) who figure it out. Good luck, and may the best (and brightest) fan-fiction-fanatic win!

Disclaimer: *Set to tune of Beethoven's Fifth*

This is not miiiiiiiiiiine . . .

This is not miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine . . . .

This is not mine This is not mine This is not miiiiiiiiine

This is not mine This is not mine This is not miiiiiiiiine

This is not miiiiinnnnne This is not miiiiinnnnnne

I have no riiiiiights I have no riiiights

I will not make - MON - NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, enough of that. Let's get on with it!

Moving In

Harry, or rather Harriet now, sat nibbling his dinner, too busy focusing on plotting his revenge on Dumbledore to notice what he was eating (`Avada Kedavra is too easy, and it's detectable. Poison? Doesn't have enough class. Bludgeoned to death with by a rogue troll . . . might work. Problem is, where'd I get the troll? I could always do it the Muggle way . . .'). He was shaken from his dark thoughts as Pansy and Millicent both rose from the table, finished. Looking up, Harry found the table to be rather deserted. Though he vaguely remembered the location of the Slytherin Common Room, Harry realized it would be highly suspicious if an exchange student already knew the location of common rooms. Resigning himself to his fate, Harry rose as well and followed the trickle of remaining Slytherins.

The entire trip, not a word was spoken to Harry. In fact, none of the Slytherins even seemed to recognize his existence. `Well, his is downright unpleasant. I can't wait to get in their Common Room, that'll be a regular riot. Merlin, Dumbledore, what were you thinking?' Harry trained his eyes from Slytherin to Slytherin as he walked. `My, what a happy bunch they are. Good thing the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor and not Slytherin!'

Finally, `Harriet' and her guides arrived outside the entrance. Just as Harry was within hearing distance, Pansy gave the password in a hushed whisper that Harry heard nonetheless. “Death to all Mudbloods and Blood Traitors!” Harry scowled slightly but managed to hold his tongue; while he did detest the Slytherins, he wasn't about to go and agitate the whole lot of them, especially since he was to be, he shuddered to think, sleeping amongst them.

As soon as she stepped through the door, every single person in the common Room stopped what they were doing, and stared at Harry. Most had either a sneer or scowl of varying degree on their faces, while a few had looks of shrewd evaluation. At once, Harry froze and stared back, lost as to what to do. `Should I draw my wand? Would I even stand a chance against all of them? Are they going to attack, or ambush?' Harry shook himself mentally. `Okay, relax. No sudden movements, and the snake won't bite. I hope.' Harriet cleared her throat nervously.

“H-hello. Um, pleased to meet you all.” Silently Harry was cursing himself for the waver in her voice. He decided to try again, more confidently this time. “As you already hear, my name is Harriet Lillify. I hope my stay doesn't inconvenience you, and that I will learn much from Slytherin House.” At the end of her speech, Harry smiled, if not rather weakly. `I can't believe I just said that. What am I thinking - not inconvenience them, learn from Slytherin House? What's wrong with me?'

After Harry's announcement some of the Slytherins exchanged quick, disbelieving glances, and Harry saw the number of scowls increase, yet thought he saw scattered faces of silent appraisal. `Wow, great move there, Flamel! Now what?' Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and back again, nervous and becoming somewhat distressed. The sound of the door opening again seemed to draw most of the Slytherins' attention, and, for the first time in his history at Hogwarts, Harry couldn't have felt happier or more relieved to see Snape standing behind him.

“All right, all right, enough of this nonsense. I expect you all to give our guest (Snape paused on the word `guest') a proper Slytherin welcome, and that we will all be on our best behaviors. Show Miss Lillify what makes Slytherin the best house at Hogwarts.” All the Slytherins went back to what they were doing. “Miss Parkinson.” Pansy approached Harry and Snape from the left side of the room.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Please escort our guest to the dormitories.” With that said, Snape turned and left the Common Room in his usual dramatic, sweeping fashion. As Harry was escorted, or rather led like a cow, to the girls dormitories, Harry saw various people stare at her as they he passed, though they all stopped as soon as she was past them. As Harry passed through the door to the girls' dormitories, she held her breath, not fancying anything that was inevitably to come. It was bad enough that he had to sleep in a girls' dorm, but the fact they were Slytherins as well . . . Harry cringed at the thought.

Much to Harry's surprise, they did not follow a winding staircase, but instead proceeded to walk along a torch-lit corridor, much like the passages out in the surrounding dungeons, with the exception of the presence of multiple doors. Harry was too surprised to keep herself from blurting out, “It looks like a dungeon!” Pansy stopped and looked over her shoulder, giving Harry a quick once over, before letting out a snort of contempt.

In a sarcastic, sneering voice Snape would have been proud of, Pansy said, “That's because this is the dungeons.” On the word `dungeons,' Pansy spoke in a perverted mockery of Harry's voice. Harry heard Pansy mutter, “Stupid half-blood!” under her breath. Harry clenched her fists and took the insult

`It's just for one day. Just for one day. One day. One day.' This was soon to become Harry's newest mantra, one that promised to be in use often. Harry noticed Pansy had opened the door on her right, above which were the words `Sixth Year Girls' in curved, gold letters. With a sigh, Harry stepped in. Immediately, the door slammed shut and sealed magically, and Harry found himself to be surrounded by five girls, each with a wand trained on her. `Oh, crap!'

“Don't move!” commanded Pansy, who stepped forward from in front of Harry. “Try any tricks and Millicent there will have your arms pinned faster than you can say `Pureblood'.” Harry turned her head and saw that Millicent was indeed behind her, ready to lunge if need be. “Trust me, Millicent knows plenty about headlocks. Just ask that Granger Mudblood.” All the girls chuckled darkly at this, except Millicent, who instead made herself look even more threatening. Seeing that Harry was deterred, Pansy lowered her wand, and the others followed suit.

Pansy stepped closer again, malice visible in her eyes. “We know what you did to Draco.” Now Pansy was mere centimeters from Harry's face. “How dare you, you dirty Halfblood!” Spinning so her hair hit Harry's face, Pansy retreated a few steps before turning to face Harry again. “You think you can just walk in here and steal him right out from under our noses!” Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. “He's mine, understand! I was here first!”

“What?! I couldn't care less if - ” Harry was stopped by Pansy's wand pointed between her eyes.

“Save it, I don't want to hear your lies. Fortunately for you, I'm feeling generous tonight; Draco is fine and coming back soon.” At this, she lowered her wand and Harry let out the breath he had been holding. “I'm warning you, try anything again, and you deal with me!” To emphasize, Pansy twirled her wand menacingly. “I'll be watching you.” Pansy pushed roughly past Harriet out the door, and most of the girls followed, except Millicent and another girl Harry didn't know. Harry slid down the wall, coming to a stop when she reached the floor. She took a moment to collect herself and slow his breathing. It may not gave been an actual fight, but it still put Harry on edge.

Harry looked up after a moment to find the mystery girl to have closed her curtains, and Millicent to be sitting on her bed writing in a diary, of all things. Rising wearily, Harry took a cautious couple of steps towards Millicent and asked, “Um, I hate to bother you, but, which bed is, er, mine?” Harry hated the way his voice sounded so shaky, yet he felt he could do no better. Millicent looked up, rather confused.

“What?”

“I said,” Harry started again, somewhat stronger this time, “which bed do I sleep in tonight? Could you show me? Please?” Though she started strong, Harry's voice ended weakly once again. Millicent looked at Harry for a few seconds, before pointing to the bed to her left.

“This one, next to mine.” Harry gave her a weak smile.

“Thank you, really. It's just that, I'm feeling tired, and it's been a long day, and, well, thanks.” As Harry moved toward the indicated bed, he cursed himself mentally. `Oh, I look like such an idiot! What's wrong with you, Potter? Pull yourself together.' Harry noticed out of the corner of her eye that Millicent was looking at her rather oddly. `Now she probably thinks I escaped from St. Mungo's or something. Just great!' Harry collapsed onto the bed and drew the green curtains tight, figuring it best if she followed the other girl's example.

`Ugh, I just want to sleep through this nightmare and wake up as if nothing happened. I can at least try, I suppose.' After a moment's hesitation, Harry changed into a nightgown, keeping her eyes closed the entire time. And so it was that Harry climbed under the sheets, a slight blush on his face. No sooner had her head hit the pillow and Harry closed his eyes did the dormitory door slam open and the girls reentered, closing the door just as noisily.

“Emergency meeting, now! Hey, Mitchelson, that means you, too.” The wireless was shut off, and Harry heard indistinct grumbling sounds. “Yeah, yeah. Same to you. Now come on!” There was a scuffling sound, and Harry sneaked a peak through the curtains to find the girls crowded around Millicent's bed. “There's been some changes and setbacks to the plan, but we will be proceeding. Now, first off - Wait!” Suddenly, it was as if Harry was completely def; Pansy's mouth continued to move, but no sound reached Harry.

`What the - Oh, a silencing charm! Well, they certainly are brighter than I gave them credit for.' Harry turned to his dresser and picked up a long, flesh-colored string. `But not by much.' Harry stuck the Extendable Ear into his ear and in a few seconds heard Pansy's voice.

“ - do it. Don't want any more information leaks. Now, as I was saying, someone's slipped, and Draco has a detention on the day we had planned for.” There was a slight pause, and Harry guessed that Pansy must have been glaring for good measure. “For now, Plan B will have to work. We lure Potter to the Shrieking Shack, where we ambush him. Capture Potter with minimal damage if possible. If not, do whatever is necessary. The Mudblood you are free to do with whatever you please. Just leave some for Draco. He still wants to deliver the final blow. You all remember the signal, and your parts. Be ready to act. Any questions?”

“I'm out, Pansy.” Harry couldn't believe what he heard. He took the Extendable Ear out and dug a finger in his ear, hoping to clear out the obvious buildup of wax. Hearing voices, Harry quickly put the Ear back in.

“What?! Not again, Mitchelson!”

“Yes, again, Pansy. I told you already, I have a bad feeling about this. I mean, this isn't your normal, everyday Anti-Gryffindor prank here; this is serious. If we're caught, it won't be detentions; it'll be expulsion at least. I see enough things that could go wrong as it is. I told you that if there were any complications then I was out. Why should I trust in a plan that can't even get off the ground?”

“How dare you! You insult both my intelligence and Malfoy's! Do you think we would be as careless as to allow ourselves to be caught so easily? This is nothing short of treason!”

“You're missing the point, entirely, Pansy. I'm not out against you. I just don't like the circumstances we're working under. Besides, you've had the brilliant foresight to have enough people to get the job done, right? One less won't hurt.” The room was silent a moment.

“All right, fine! You got lucky this time. I'll let the matter slide. But cross me again, and I won't be so lenient.”

“Understood, Pansy.”

“Good. Remember, the next Hogsmeade trip Potter and the Mudblood pay!” Harry's eyes widened. There was another trip next weekend! He'd have to warn Hermione! It appeared that they were both in very grave danger.

`I have to tell Hermione, but when? I may not get a chance to until it's too late!'

“Argh!” Harry froze. He hadn't meant to say anything out loud, and it appeared that the silencing charm only worked one way.

“What was that?” Quickly, Harry tugged on the Extendable Ear and stashed it under her pillow. He rolled over with her back to the Slytherins and feigned sleep. He was just in time, as no sooner had Harry stopped moving when she heard the silencing spell lift and the curtains were thrown open.

“She's still asleep.” It was the Mitchelson girl.

“Are you sure?” Pansy's voice, full of derision.

“Yeah. I'm sure.”

“Well, just to be safe . . .” Pansy's voice was closer. “Stupify!” The spell hit Harry, and the world around her began to fade away. The last thing Harry remembered before darkness claimed her was Pansy's voice, the words echoing in his mind.

“Now, what to do about Miss Lillify . . .”

A/N: Well, that was fun, wasn't it! What will happen next? What will the Slytherins do to Harry? What is Dumbledore's plan? How will Harry cope? WHO TOOK ALL THE ICE CREAM?!?!?!?!?! Oh, wait, wrong question. Sorry got caught up in the moment. Tune in next installment to find out!

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