AN: Very sorry about the long wait. Got stuck halfway through the chapter and my muse ran away.

Chapter Three: If You've a Ready Mind

"It's not funny, Ron."

"S-sorry," Ron choked. "But you have to admit, the look on his face when Snape told him he was a girl – her, I mean – Ugh, this is going to be confusing."

"And you can stop staring as well, I highly doubt Harry wants to be gawped at by one of his – her – best friends."

"I'm not staring!"

Hermione sighed. "Of course you're not now, you idiot, I meant when Madam Pomfrey's finished looking him – her – over."

"Oh. Sorry. I can't help it. For a girl who was a boy half an hour ago, she's very -"

"I don't want to hear it," Hermione said firmly. "Shut up now, I'm trying to think."

She didn't get much chance to think, however, as Madam Pomfrey poked her head around the curtain.

"The good news," she announced before Ron or Hermione could speak, "is that there aren't any side-effects of the potion – aside from the obvious, that is."

"And the bad news?" Hermione asked.

"The bad news is, the headmaster was right: there is no available reversal unless he – I mean she – applies for a Gender Change from the Ministry."

"The Ministry? No way!"

"That's what Harry said," Madam Pomfrey said in amusement.

"So it looks like I'm stuck like this permanently," a voice grumbled from behind the curtain.

"What?" Ron exclaimed.

Harry pulled back the curtains. He – she – looked torn between depressed and furious. "Ron, do you really think the Ministry is going to accept my application without it turning into this massive media event? Rita Skeeter was bad enough. This'll be the story of the century. I think I'd rather stay like this than have everyone know. Not that I'm happy about this."

Throughout her speech, Ron's eyes had stayed fixed on the same spot. Harry, instead of her now-ill-fitting uniform, was wearing a loose regulation hospital gown, but although it was supposed to be genderless it did sort of cling round the torso. Hermione noticed the direction Ron was looking in and stamped on his foot. "Ow!"

Either Harry pretended not to notice or was too depressed to. Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"You can discuss that with Professor McGonagall, Mr – er, I mean, Miss Potter." She cleared her throat. "And she will be here shortly. As for you two," she turned to Ron and Hermione, "you can leave my patient in peace; she will be staying overnight."

Harry grumbled, but Madam Pomfrey ignored her and shooed Ron and Hermione away.

Life in a magical school was by no means easy but it was never boring. If it wasn't students being turned into ferrets, or Neville Longbottom melting his hundredth cauldron, there was always someone somewhere in a magical – and often very embarrassing – predicament. In this case, Minerva mused, it was one of her students and the responsibility fell on her to deal with.

It was odd, she thought, that out of all the students who had to make the potion, it was Harry who had messed it up and ended up as the opposite gender. Had an accident been expected, she would have gambled on Neville being the victim. Strange. She would have to have a word with Severus and check he had assigned the male potion to Harry and not the female one. She wouldn't put it past him. But for now, she needed to talk to Harry. Minerva smiled slightly. She'd been a good friend of Lily Potter and had known Harry when – she – was a baby. Seeing her like this should be … interesting.

She paused outside the Hospital Wing, took a deep breath and opened the door. It appeared deserted, apart from the bed at the end with a set of curtains round. It didn't take a genius to work out where Harry was.

"Mr Potter – Miss Potter?" she said quietly, outside the curtain. No reply. "Harry?" She slowly pulled the curtains aside.

Harry had been staring at the same spot on the Hospital Wing wall for several minutes, mulling her decision over in her head.

The point of not trying to be changed back was so that everybody would not find out about what had happened to her; however, there was obviously a flaw in her logic, as she could not stay the way she was without people noticing.

Perhaps she could just wear glamours disguising herself as a boy? But then – how long for? It could hardly be indefinite; what about in a few years, if she wanted to get married? That would be an interesting conversation on the wedding night!

Harry frowned, sat up and examined herself again in the mirror Madam Pomfrey had left behind. Somehow, between losing and gaining certain body parts, something else had changed. Thinking back to how she had always felt seeing Cho Chang, the odd stomach-lurching sensation was gone. True, it had been less so at the end of last year, but now it was gone completely.

Try someone else. Harry cast her mind around and one of the Hufflepuff sixth-years came to mind. Harry had bumped into her on the train on the way – twenty-four hours ago – and although the sensation that accompanied her appreciation of her looks had not been as deep as it had with Cho, it had definitely been there. But now? Zilch.

Perhaps it would be better to try the other way around. Harry ran a mental list of all the boys she knew in her head. Ron – er, no, perhaps better not to go there, the situation was awkward enough is it stood. Dean, Seamus, Neville? Nothing.

Then the memory of Draco Malfoy's visit to them on the train popped into her head, and the lurch was back. He was quite good-looking, really …

Oh, bloody hell.

Harry buried her face in her hands. She would never be able to look Malfoy in the face again -

"Miss Potter?"

She jumped, just as the curtains were drawn to one side. "Professor!"

"Good heavens," Professor McGonagall exclaimed, looking Harry up and down, who pulled the bedcovers further up.

"Please don't stare."

"I'm sorry – no – goodness." Professor McGonagall hovered with an unreadable expression on her face for a few minutes, before seeming to shake herself and sat down at the end of the bed. "Well, what are we going to do with you, Miss Potter?"

Harry glared at her. "I was hoping you might have some suggestions."

"I'm afraid you're hoping in vain," Professor McGonagall said sympathetically. "I do not believe this has ever happened before. Not while I have been teaching here, certainly."

"Great." Harry flopped backwards onto the pillow. "Why is it always me?"

"Well, I think -"

"That was a rhetorical question, Professor."

"I am aware of that, Miss Po – Harry," Professor McGonagall replied. "What I was going to say is that you appear to have two options."

Harry sat up again. "You mean, go to the Ministry and have the story splashed all over the papers, or stay as I am and have the story splashed all over the papers."

"Well, I was not going to put it quite like that."

"You don't have to, I'm sure the Daily Prophet will find some nice colourful way to describe it."

"Now, let's stop that," Professor McGonagall said, now sounding more like her usual stern self. "You have two choices, Harry. Personally I would not recommend that you go to the Ministry."

Harry blinked at her. "Why not?"

Professor McGonagall didn't answer for a moment. "Not yet, anyway," she added finally. "You've just been through a huge physiological change; trying to return to the way you were could be too much for your body to handle. Not to mention, gender changes are on the whole risky and sometimes unpredictable; they would be more so after you had just had one."

Harry thought for a moment. "How long would you recommend I waited till I tried?"

"A few months, at least," Professor McGonagall answered. "A year, ideally."

Harry's mouth fell open. "A year? I'd be stuck like this for a year?"

"Well, it's up to you, but I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would be having a few strong words to say if you started to apply now. You may find yourself locked up in here till the end of term," Professor McGonagall said, allowing a small smile to appear on her face.

"So, it's the stay a girl option," Harry said with a sigh. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Could someone just glamour me for the next few months to look like I used to?"

"Well, it's possible, but I wouldn't advise it."

"Why not?"

Professor McGonagall surveyed Harry carefully. "Harry, have you noticed any changes … that is, non-physical ones?"

There was a moment of silence. Draco Malfoy popped into Harry's head again, and she could feel her cheeks growing hot. "Um. Yes."

"Boys?"

Harry gave a small nod, blushing further. Professor McGonagall nodded. "I thought so. Your mind's changed along with your body. It wouldn't really be fair on you to act like a boy for the next year, really, would it?"

"I guess not," Harry mumbled. "But – what other option do I have? I really, really don't want people to know about this."

"I don't think they have to," Professor McGonagall said, surprising Harry. "If I hadn't known what had happened to you, then I would not have been able to recognise you when I saw you a few minutes ago. You do look very different. If we hid your scar, then you could go back to classes as an 'exchange student' and nobody would be any the wiser."

"But -" Harry paused, wondering which of the dozen objections to voice. "I'm not a girl! I don't have a clue how to act like one, let alone think like one. I really don't get them. No offence to your gender, Professor," he added quickly.

Professor McGonagall actually chuckled. "Well, maybe now is your opportunity to figure out one of the great mysteries that have vexed men for millennia. How the female mind works." She smiled at Harry. "If, or when, you changed back, it would certainly be a useful experience, don't you think?"

Harry remembered her disastrous date with Cho last year. "Yeah, it definitely would."

TBC …