Summary: She passes him a note because she's bored during Binns' class. It's funny how the butterfly effect works, because a piece of parchment with some ink on it - a mere relief for boredom - will now change the outcome of the future war. The tiniest of actions can have the biggest of impacts.

[Eventual fem!Harry/Draco; starts Fifth Year; AUish; Will be a LONG story.]

Warnings: Fem!Harry. Gender-bending is not everybody's cup of tea. Consider yourself warned. Also, initially, some OOCness.

Ratings: T, for now.

Disclaimer: JKR owns HP & co. This disclaimer is applicable to all future chapters.

Note: I started writing this story a loooong time back, so the writing might be a little choppy and rough around the edges. It will be much better from the tenth chapter on, seeing as I wrote those chapters pretty recently. It's a guarantee.

Temporary Note (Nov 2018): Someone convinced me that Harry as Harriet's nickname just feels terrible, so I'm changing the nickname to Harrie. I haven't finished doing so for all the chapters, so if you're a new reader (or an old one re-reading) don't find it odd if it switches back to Harry before the 10th chapter :)

NOTEWORTHY BOREDOM

Butterfly Effect: In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.

CHAPTER 1

PASSING NOTES

Harriet Potter was bored out of her mind. Hermione was busy taking down notes, and Ron was fast asleep, drooling slightly onto the wooden desk. Parvati and Lavender were sitting two benches away, silently giggling at a PlayWitch magazine hidden under their table, while Neville was staring longingly at Parvati.

And Harrie was still ignoring Dean and Seamus, because all they wanted to do these days was stare at her chest, or any girl's chest, really. Bloody gits.

That left her with no one to bother. Harriet hated being bored. She was highly boisterous by nature.

And then she spied a pretentious blond head on her right side, sitting diagonally in front of her. That idiot had been threatening to give her detention ever since he had shown off his new Prefect badge to her on the train.

She decided to write him a note.

OoOoO

Tap. Tap.

Draco Malfoy raised his head irritably, annoyed at being woken up during History of Magic. He looked down to see a paper-crane, tapping its beak against his elbow to catch his attention.

Tap. Tap.

He guessed that he was supposed to open it. After all, what more could he do with a paper-crane? Wasn't there a Muggle art called origami?

To his surprise, he found a note inside, addressed to him.

.

'Malfoy.

I remember you boasting last year about your 'French' ancestry. Your name should be spelt Mal-foie, though. Because you really do look like spoilt (mal) foie (foie gras).

Suck on that.'

.

Draco knew that there was only one person in the entire school who always sought to him antagonise him this way. It was the Golden Girl, Harriet Potter.

He turned around to regard her with contempt, but he was distracted by the fact that she seemed to be attempting to copy his trademark sneer. He shook his head at her childish antics and turned back to face the ghost that was droning on about goblin revolts.

Something hit his leg, and he looked down to see a crumpled up ball of paper. Obviously, Potter had given up on origami this time. He picked it up, and opened it out.

.

'Say something.

Your silence scares me.

Are you breaking up with me?'

.

Malfoy rolled his eyes upon seeing this. He found it adorable, her attempts to annoy him. His eyes widened in horror, as he realised that he'd just mentally acknowledged his greatest rival as adorable.

He decided to get back at her.

OoOoO

Harriet was waiting impatiently for Malfoy to get annoyed. But he wasn't getting annoyed. And Harrie was growing frustrated.

A tiny dragonfly, made of paper, landed in front of her face. It then opened out into a piece of uncreased parchment.

.

'The only reason why I'd ever break up with you would be so that we could have mind-blowing make-up sex.

- Your amazing lover'

.

Looking at the response, she felt a twinge of annoyance, but that was replaced by amusement. She wasn't embarrassed. Unlike other witches her age, Harriet did not blush like a virgin at the very mention of a penis. Though she was a virgin, she thought wryly to herself.

Harrie grinned when she caught his eye, and feeling bold, she winked at him. He smirked back at her, just as the bell rang.

After managing to wake Ron up, the three of them were making their way to the staircase to go to the dungeons for Double Potions with the Slytherins (once again), when Harriet felt herself get pulled up into a niche. She could not turn around and see the person, but she recognised his voice.

"By the way, Potter, it's pronounced as 'fwa gra' not 'foy gra'. If you want to sleep with me, you should know that I like my lovers fluent in French."

With that, he disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared. Harrie shook her head and hurried up to catch up with Ron and Hermione, rolling her eyes.

Malfoy was a bloody git.

OoOoO

The next day, at breakfast, Harriet was feeling glum, despite Ron's goofy attempts to make her smile. Lavender had just accused her of being a lying, attention-seeking prat in the dormitory, and finally, it was sinking in that most of the others felt that way too.

And even though Hermione had stood up for her and threatened that cow with a detention, Harrie couldn't help but feel angry. She was speaking the truth. Were the other wizards and witches so caught up in their denial that they didn't want to start preparing for the inevitable war?

And to top it all, she had detention with that Umbridge female for the rest of the week. She needed something to cheer her up.

She wondered if Sirius would write to her today. But seeing as they'd been apart for just a little less than forty-eight hours, she doubted that he would write to her.

Just as she was thinking this, a tawny owl with a beautiful crest landed in front of her. The owl gave her a haughty look of contempt as it held out its gold covered talon. Gold covered talon? Obviously, the owl belonged to someone who was wealthy enough to waste gold on making footwear for their owl.

The owl promptly flew away, not even waiting for some treat.

She unrolled the parchment, to find a familiar, elegant scrawl.

.

'Dear Bad-French-Speaker,

Why so glum? Heard what happened in DADA yesterday. I believe you.

Your amazing lover,

Bad foie gras'

.

She felt herself smiling, as she turned around to look at the Slytherin table. She caught Malfoy's eyes and smiled at him, while he just smirked in her direction. It was certainly uncharacteristic of him to do that.

"Harrie! Are you even listening?" questioned Hermione, looking peeved.

"What's that in your hand, mate?" asked Ron, as he snatched the parchment away from her. Hermione and Ron leaned in to read the note, just as Harriet tried to grab it away from them.

"You looked at the Slytherin table and smiled," he accused, pointing a finger at her. "MERLIN! YOU HAVE A SLYTHERIN BOYFRIEND?" yelled Ron so loudly, that all conversation in the Great Hall came to a stop.

Even the professors had stopped talking. Snape's eyes were bulging out, while toad-faced Umbridge had a satisfied smile on her face. That bitch had already given her detention.

"Shush, Ron. Stop being such a clown!" admonished Hermione, a strange look on her face.

Harrie grabbed the parchment from him and stood up, feeling annoyed. She masked her features into a look of indifference and said coldly, "Can't you read, Weasley? I have a Slytherin lover, not a boyfriend."

At this, the whole Hall gasped, and people started whispering furiously, as Ron's ears turned red, a sure sign of his anger. Hermione was gripping Ron's arm, in an attempt to restrain him.

With her head held high, she walked out of the Great Hall, to whispers of 'slut' and 'whore'. She didn't really care. She wasn't new to being ostracised.

OoOoO

Hermione sat next to Harriet during Double Charms, while Ron sat with those gits Seamus and Dean. They were revising Summoning Charms, and Harriet was once again bored out of her mind.

In her anger, Harrie managed to summon all the items with such force, that the flying objects nearly took away the head of all those in its way. She ensured that it was Ron's head which was in the way most of the time.

However, Professor Flitwick's large homework was nothing compared to Professor McGonagall's class. Vanishing Spells were super hard, and Hermione was the only one who managed to vanish her snail, after trying thrice.

Harrie took great consolation in the fact that Ron's snail too hadn't disappeared, though she was still not talking to Ron.

When Seamus asked Harrie if she was available for a quick shag at a reasonable price outside the Transfiguration classroom, Ron lost it. He started pummelling the Irish boy to the floor. Hermione made half-hearted attempts to hold him back, while Dean stood back and watched with concern etched on his face.

It was just their luck that Malfoy had to walk by with his two cronies. And despite him being nice (occasionally) for the past two days, she didn't trust him. After all, they had hated each other for the past four years.

"Tut-tut. Fighting in the corridor. I must give you Gryffindorks detention for being so unruly right in the morning," said Malfoy, sneering. Crabbe and Goyle both nodded their gorilla-like heads in unison, irritating Harrie even more.

"You can't give detention to a Prefect, Malfoy," Harriet found herself answering, feeling an urge to goad the blond boy.

"Didn't I already tell you to have some manners back on the train? Do you really want a detention, Scarface?"

"Oh sod off, Malfoy."

"I'm giving you detention, Potter. Meet me at the Great Hall at nine tonight."

"I refuse."

"Make that two detentions."

Ron had stopped hitting Seamus, and Ron and Hermione came and stood on either side of Harrie.

"In which case, I'm giving double detention to Crabbe," said Hermione, her bushy hair looking bushier than ever. Ron continued, "And I'm giving double detention to Goyle."

"What for?" asked Malfoy, sneering.

"For simply existing," came Harriet's response, her face twisting into an uncharacteristic smirk. Malfoy sneer turned into a smirk, and they both kept smirking at each other, till Seamus' voice interrupted them.

"Is Malfoy the Slytherin lover?"

Seamus yelped in pain, as both Malfoy and Harrie hexed him. The combined effect of the Jelly-Legs-Jinx and the Furnuculus Jinx made for such a sight, that Malfoy's lackeys and Harrie's best friends all started laughing.

As Harrie laughed at the same ridiculous thing in front of her, she caught Malfoy's eye. Here was something that could make people of two opposing houses laugh. When Malfoy smiled at her, she couldn't help but return the smile.

Because all said and done, despite being a right git, Malfoy had a nice smile.

OoOoO

Harrie and Ron were on talking terms once again. Both of them skipped lunch and went to the library instead. They were both panicking about their homework. Hermione had gone off to meet the Head Girl and ask her about the detention policy.

Once Ron found out that Harrie had never even kissed a boy before, he started talking to her freely. He was positively thrilled to find out that Malfoy and Harrie were not in a relationship.

But if Harriet were to be true to herself, she had to admit that Malfoy had been sort-of nice to her ever since the school term had started a couple of days back. But she'd never tell that to Ron. He would just get mad once again.

Harriet's head was pounding by the time they reached Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, with a long table laden with twigs in front of her.

Just as Harrie and Ron reached her, they saw Malfoy striding towards them, surrounded by his usual gang of Slytherin cronies. They were all laughing, and judging by the way they all kept glancing at her, she knew she was the butt of their joke.

When Malfoy imitated Hermione behind her back, Harriet felt her headache become worse, as she tried to control her anger. Her fingers twitched towards her wand, but surprisingly, Ron held back her hand and shot her a warning glance.

Malfoy caught her glaring at him, and smirked at her. But when he realised she was really pissed off, he shook his head, and went back to listening to the Professor.

Soon, Professor Grubbly-Plank instructed all of them to pair up to study a Bowtruckle (so that was what these twig-like creatures were called) and sketch them and label them. As the class surged forwards around the table, Harrie deliberately circled around the table, so that she ended up right next to the Professor.

"Where's Hagrid?" she asked the older woman, while everyone else was choosing Bowtruckles.

"Never you mind," said Professor Grubbly-Plank repressively. Smirking all over his stupid, pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harrie and seized the largest Bowtruckle.

"Maybe," said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only she could hear him, "the stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured."

"Maybe you'll be injured badly, if you continue talking, Malfoy," said Harrie, out of the side of her mouth.

"Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift."

He walked away, smirking over his shoulder at Harrie. She felt her headache magnify, as her worry and concern for Hagrid increased ten-fold. What if Malfoy knew something that the Order didn't? After all, his father was a Death Eater.

Harrie saw that Ron and Hermione were squatting some distance away, attempting to persuade a Bowtruckle to remain still long enough for them to draw it. She could imagine Hermione's calm voice in her head, 'It's just playing into Malfoy's hands to look worried. It tells him that we don't know what's going on. Ignore him, Harrie.'

Impulsively, Harrie turned around and called out, "Oi Malfoy!"

OoOoO

Draco paused long enough for his 'rival' to catch up with him. The girl was beyond infuriating, what with her concerned questions about that stupid giant of a Groundskeeper. She obviously could be friends with a Half-breed, but had had no problem chucking his offer of friendship in his face.

"What, Potthead?"

"You're my partner for this class, Ferretface."

"What do you mean?"

"There are no more Bowtruckles left, you ponce. So we're partners."

"I refuse to mingle with you, Potthead."

"Then give me the Bowtruckle and disappear."

"I'm the Prefect. You have to listen to me."

"I'm a better human being. You have to listen to me."

By now, both of them were standing a little away from the others. Potter crossed her arms in front of her, as the Bowtruckle squirmed in his grip. Her nose flared slightly in annoyance, and it amused Malfoy, despite the headache he was suffering from.

"Drakie!" came an irritatingly familiar voice from behind him. "I don't have a partner. Will you be mine?"

In desperation, he grabbed Potter's arm and dragged her away to a more shaded place. "You're lucky I'm letting you be my partner, Potthead."

"Oh shut up, Ferret. I know you pulled me away only because you wanted to avoid Parkinson. Now hold the Bowtruckle still, I'll draw the damn thing." Saying so, she plopped down ungracefully onto the grass, and looked up at him authoritatively.

Draco found himself staring at her, before he sat down carefully, still confused by his own eyes, which seemed to like staring at his nemesis.

"Drakie-poo! What are you doing with her?" came Pansy's familiar shriek, as Potter unsuccessfully tried to hide her sniggers. Pansy was like the annoying weed that kept popping up in your garden of Mandrakes. Only that her shriek was worse than that of a Mandrake's.

"Why, Pansy dear. I'm pairing up with Potter. She was feeling sad that the Blood Traitor and the Mudblood both dumped her for each other."

Potter's nose flared once again in anger, and her right hand twitched towards her wand, and all of a sudden, Draco's headache didn't feel that bad. Obviously goading Potter was a stress-reliever.

"How dare you try to steal my Draco, Potthead!" screeched Pansy, her attention completely on Potter.

"I don't remember giving you permission to call me that, Pugface. Only my Draco can call me that."

Now it was his turn to cover his sniggers, for Pansy looked furious at this. She took out her wand in her anger, just as Potter lazily flicked her wand.

"Miss Parkinson! If you do not have a pair, please do pair up with Mr Longbottom. Stop bothering other students who are working sincerely," called out the Professor.

As Pansy stalked away, he looked up and down at Potter, appreciating the curve of her hips that he detected through the robes. "What spell was that, Potter?" He didn't feel like asking her about the 'my Draco' comment. Yet.

"Wait till tomorrow, Drakie-poo," she replied, batting her eyelashes in an outrageous manner. Draco couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.

"I should give you detention for calling me that," he replied jovially, as Potter took out an Erasable Quill and a piece of crumpled parchment. He grimaced at her terrible stationery and thrust the Bowtruckle into her hands. He opened his bag and took out a piece of uncreased parchment for her to use.

"You should cancel my detentions, because I saved you from Pansy dearest." As an afterthought, she added, "You owe me one."

Draco ignored her, and took out the tiny vial of potion he had stashed in his bag. He drunk its contents, as Potter watched him, a slightly curious expression on her face.

"What's that?"

"Headache reliever."

"Can I buy a vial from you?"

"What do you take me for, a common vendor?"

"Give me one and I'll help you avoid Parkinson in the future."

"How many times will you help me?"

"Thrice."

"Fine."

He took out another vial from his bag, and kept it on the ground. She handed over the restless Bowtruckle to him, and uncorked the vial. She sniffed it suspiciously before looking at him with those too green eyes.

"I'm taking a leap of faith here. And you still owe me one. And if this turns out to be harmful, I'll have the Twins change your hair colour," she rambled off in a hurry, obviously feeling nervous. He found it hard to believe that this slip of a girl had gone up against the Dark Lord only a few months back.

"Just shut up and drink it, Potter."

She stuck her tongue out at him, before gulping down the potion. For a moment, she sat still, before grinning at him broadly.

"My headache's gone!"

"What else would you expect of a headache reliever, Potthead?" he asked, smirking.

"If you didn't have a Bowtruckle in your arms right now, I'd hug you, Foie Gras" she remarked sarcastically.

"Start drawing, Potter," replied Draco, rolling his eyes. It was a surprise this girl ever managed to get any work done.

OoOoO

Twenty minutes later, when Harrie was done with the drawing, Malfoy handed the Bowtruckle back to her and took out another piece of parchment. Then, with a quickly whispered Copius charm, he copied Harrie's drawing onto his parchment.

"Hey! That's cheating, Malfoy."

"There's no rule against what I'm doing."

"I can't expect anything better of Slytherins, I suppose," muttered Harriet, feeling like a fraud on the inside. After all, the Hat had wanted to place her in Slytherin...

"Malfoy?" she asked, having worked up the nerve to finally talk about the impending detentions.

"Yes, Potter?"

"I can't do detention with you tonight."

"Why ever not?"

"I have detention with Umbridge for the rest of the week, starting today," replied Harrie glumly.

"Then do your detention with me on Saturday, Potthead."

Harriet stared at him, her mouth slightly open. "No freaking way. Cancel the detention."

"What do I get in return?" he asked, in a mocking tone.

"I'll teach you the jinx I used on Parkinson."

But before he could respond, Harriet yelled out in pain. The idiotic Bowtruckle had bitten her finger. As the blood started pouring out, the Bowtruckle made a dash for freedom towards the Forbidden Forest, only to be calmly plucked from the ground by Malfoy.

"No deal, Potter," replied Malfoy, smirking at her, before getting up gracefully, despite holding a wriggling Bowtruckle.

As he walked away towards the Professor, chuckling at her obvious misfortune, Harriet Potter could only think of two words.

Bloody git.

OoOoO

AN:

I'm not a fan of long ANs, so I'll keep it short. :*

Things have mostly been canonical so far. The minor events from the fifth book will occur as they do, though I won't rehash things too much. And any dialogue you recognise is from the book, obviously. ^_^

I personally don't think the quality of this chapter is reflective of my potential as a writer. o_O As I said earlier, I started working on this a very long time back. I've improved a lot since then, if I do say so myself.

Also, this story is going to be long - a sort of challenge to myself to see if I'm really the commitment-phobe I say I am. :) It'll cover Fifth and Sixth Years, and the war, all in great detail.

Reviews are love! :*