Disclaimer: *clears throat* Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I don't own Harry, and neither do YOU!

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but I was having a hard time deciding exactly how to start this chapter. I hope you like it! =o)


~ ~ - thoughts

" " - speech

* * -parselmouth


It was late the next evening before Harry even opened his eyes, blinking up at the familiar white ceiling of the infirmary. A quick glance to the side of his bed showed exactly what he expected to find: his godfather slumped over in a chair, sound asleep. A yawn escaped him and he closed his eyes, intent on going back to sleep for what was left of the night. Suddenly his bladder kicked in, screaming silently with its need to be emptied. Biting back a groan, the seventh year climbed carefully out of bed, glancing over at his snoring godfather before creeping towards the bathroom.

Once in there, Harry slumped back against the bathroom door for a moment, yawning once more. Rubbing at his eyes, he finally made it to the toilet, flipping the seat up quietly. A slender hand slid into his pajama pants only to find something Harry was not expecting at all. His emerald eyes widened as he splayed his fingers over smooth skin. Now finding himself awake, the seventh year swallowed and plucked at his pajama tops...a soft gasp escaping him.

~Holy shit!~ He thought as he turned wide-eyed to the full-length mirror on the wall. Slender fingers deftly unbuttoned the drab pajama top, revealing exactly what Harry had thought he'd seen. Instead of the skinny flat chest he'd remembered, his skin was nice and smooth, a nearly translucent hue...and a pair of pink-tipped breasts. ~Damn...I have some pretty nice breasts...~ Curiously he slid a hand underneath one full, young breast, his thumb brushing the nipple lightly. Then Harry raised his emerald eyes to the mirror, gazing at himself in something akin to awe. Reflected in the mirror was a petite girl dressed in infirmary-issued pajamas, the bottoms hugging her slender hips. Her pajama top was open, revealing her breasts...her long raven locks hanging over her shoulders. ~Wow...I look good as a girl...~ A soft giggle escaped him...err her, that is, and Harry grinned at 'herself' in the mirror before buttoning up her pajama top. Wide awake, she crept back out to her bed and climbed in, snuggling under the blankets. She stifled a soft giggle, somehow delighted with the results of Peter's little mishap.

~*~ ( Dream sequence ) ~*~

They had been walking along the Quidditch pitch, laughing and talking merrily. Ron's arm was thrown casually over Hermione's shoulders, the pretty girl's arm wrapped around his waist. Harry was walking next to them, well...backwards really, not really paying attention to where they were headed. Suddenly a quavering voice rang out, "Crucio!" The spell hit the bushy-haired girl directly in the chest, sending her spiralling to the ground in pain. "Hermione!" Both boys screaned out, Harry whirling to find the snivelling Wormtail before them. "Petrificus Totalis!" This spell hit Ron in the chest, sending the boy to the ground as well.

Anger filled Harry as he stared at Peter Pettigrew, biting out angrily as he reached into his robes for his wand. "You filthy rat! I should have let Siri and Rem kill you when they had the chance, Wormtail!" Groping for his wand, the seventh year boy almost laughed at the pitiful mockery of a sneer that crossed Wormtail's face. His voice was like nails over a chalk board, grating to the nerves, "My Master will be pleased when I bring you back to him and under my control, Potter. IMPE- AHHH -VERZAUBERN- IO- CHOO!" In wide-eyed shock, he could only stare as a bolt of golden light hit him in the chest, knocking him into one of the Quidditch posts. As blackness overswept his vision, Harry could only wonder at how Wormtail had fucked up this time...a strange warm sensation washing over his body.

"Harry! 'Mione! Ron! Where are you?!" Dimly he could voices in the distance, but he couldn't even move a finger. Soon he felt somone at his side, gently touching him. It was Sirius! What was he doing here? But again Harry was helpless to speak, his emerald eyes barely open as his godfather gazed down at him worriedly. "Harry? Sweet Merlin..what did he do to you?" Sirius whispered gently as he pulled off his robes, his blue eyes widening at what he saw. Just as he was being wrapped in his godfather's robes, he could dimly hear Ron asking where he was...and even Sirius' wavering voice as he answered. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he answer himself? Why couldn't he move? Finally the blackness took over sending Harry into unconsciousness...


With a jerk, Harry bolted up in the bed, gasping softly and wide awake now. The sudden movement startled Sirius, who fell out of his chair with a loud thunk. The dark-haired man leapt to his feet and grabbed Harry's hand while calling out. "Madame POMFREY! Harry's awake!" Harry winced at the sound of Sirius' loud voice right in her ear, shaking her head. The movement made Sirius look back to the seventh year in concern, his words coming out in one big rush. "Are you all right? Do you feel any pain? Sweet Merlin, answer me!"

Soft giggles escaped the girl as she patted her godfather's hand lightly. "Chill, Sirius. It would help if you gave me a chance to answer. Yes and no..." Harry grinned impishly at the look of confusion that crossed Sirius' face, his mouth opening to question her. But before he could speak, Madame Pomfrey bustled into the room, glaring at Sirius a moment before bestowing a kindly smile on Harry.

"How are you feeling, dear? That was quite a nasty blow to the head you took." Harry merely smiled, a small hand lifting to tuck an errant raven-hued lock behind her ear. "I feel fine, Madame Pomfrey. Never better." The medi-witch placed a hand against Harry's forehead, gazing into her emerald eyes a moment before nodding in agreement. "You look perfectly healthy, dear. I don't see why you should have to stay anymore."

Sirius stared in shock a moment before rising to his feet. "Madame Pomfrey, you can't be serious! Harry's a...a GIRL! He can't leave like this! Can't you fix this?!" The medi-witch fixed him with a glare, placing her hands on her hips. "There is no need to yell, Sirius Black. I can hear you perfectly well, despite all the dungbombs and fireworks you set off during your years here. Now, as I said before Harry woke up, there is no way to be certain what curse Pettigrew used and to simply try to end the spell without knowing exactly what did it could prove to be debilitating or even fatal to Ms. Potter."

Cowed by the medi-witch's words, Sirius sat back down, looking remorseful as he bent his head over...running a hand through his hair. "I am so sorry, Harry." The seventh year shook her head as she slid to the edge of the bed, moving closer to her godfather. A small hand lifted up his face so she could gaze into his eyes solemnly, murmuring softly to him. "Sirius, it's all right. I don't mind. In fact...I think I like myself this way much better. As it seems like I have to live this way, I might as well get used to it, and so should you. Now...I need a new name." She smiled brightly, her emerald eyes dancing lightly. "Did my parents think up a name if I had been born a girl?"

Sirius blinked, staring at his god-daughter for a long time before answering. "Shannon...Shannon Hyacinth Potter...that was the name they chose. After your grandmothers..."

Harry thought for a moment before smiling brightly, "Shannon Hyacinth Potter...I like it..."