So. This happened. First of all, I'd like to say that this will, EVENTUALLY, be a Harry Potter x KHR crossover, but it will be a long time until we see ANY KHR characters. You have been warned. Second, I'd like to say that the Alpha/Beta/Omega concept is really very fascinating and I wanted to make an attempt that wasn't purely porn. (that said, there will be M-rated scenes, but not for a long time coming. You have been warned.)

In addition, I'd like to add that I've been a bit lazy with this story, so anything I haven't covered from 'canon' you should just assumed happened roughly the same. Thanks! :D

Hold Your Head High

Chapter 1

Harry had never really thought about what she'd be, once the day came and she'd 'bloom into a woman' as one of her primary teachers had called it once.

Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon (and eventually Dudley, too) were Betas, and it wasn't like she had had much time to think about it, between her chores, school, running from bullies and surviving.

Then she found out she was a witch and went off to magical school where it seemed like it mattered even less.

All children were 'genderless' in a sense, until they hit puberty. You could still tell if it was a boy or a girl, obviously, but there was one more option, for either gender.

A boy could be either a Beta or an Alpha. Girls, a Beta or an Omega.

Harry had always sort of figured she'd follow the family tradition and turn out to be yet another Beta.

Then her first year at Hogwarts had come to an end, Harry had nearly died trying -and succeeding- to prevent Lord Voldemort from getting his hands on the Philosopher's Stone.

She'd said goodbye to Ron and Hermione on King's Cross and gone with Uncle Vernon back to Privet Drive, where she had been ushered up to Dudley's second bedroom.

A few, blissful weeks had been spent frightening Dudley with the threat of magic, until Dobby came for a visit.

The weeks after that were miserable enough on their own, confined to the room and only let out for bathroom breaks five minutes two times a day, but...

Harry cursed softly under her breath, because of course she had to be an early bloomer.

She could only bless her luck that Madam Pomfrey had taken her aside before she went home and told her everything she might need to know about anything that might happen once Maturity set in. As if the Medi-Witch had seen this coming.

Maybe she had, Harry mused as she lay panting on the rickety bed, only Hedwig for company.

Before full, physical maturity, and most often before you had found an agreeable 'mate' the 'heat' you went through was short and comparatively mild. Just a day or so long.

But that didn't change the fact that it was uncomfortable and Harry was now an Omega.

She bit her lower lip as she tried to sleep despite the near-fever like state that made her feel flushed and far too warm.

She tried not to think about what others would think about her now. There were a lot of preconceptions about Omegas and Harry didn't like a single one of them. She was not weak, she was not meek and tactile and she was NOT SUBMISSIVE, thank you very much.

Harry may only be just about twelve years old, but she decided there and then, alone in Dudley's second bedroom during her first heat, that she would not let anyone tell her who to be. Ever.

She was Harry. Just Harry, and she wouldn't let anyone change that.

It would be difficult to hold on to that promise throughout the years, but Harry was stubborn. She'd tough it out, like with everything else.

-x-x-x-

Once she finally got rescued -Ron was an amazing friend and she'd never let him go- and taken to Ron's house, The Burrow, by him and his older brothers, Fred and George, she was very glad that none of them had Matured yet because if one of them had been an Alpha, they might have been able to smell her recently finished heat.

She'd later find out that she'd been naturally suppressing her sent since the start.

Ron's mother was rather overwhelming, but very nice. Harry could admit to some curiosity when she found out that Ron's parents were an Alpha, Omega couple. She spent a fair amount of time just observing them during her stay.

Mrs Weasley was not really the stereotypical Omega, other than the minor herd of children, and Harry took some measure of comfort from that. The fact that the woman seemed genuinely fond of her helped, too.

When they eventually got back to school, despite all the escapades and near-disasters, Harry pulled Ron and Hermione aside to quietly tell them that she was an Omega now.

She caught both their arms in between classes the first day, glancing around carefully before dragging them into an abandoned classroom and closing the door quietly behind her.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked curiously.

"Is this important?" Hermione asked, tucking a strand of her bushy hair behind one ear. "If we don't hurry, we'll be late to Charms."

"Er." Harry frowned studiously down on the floor. "I just, wanted to tell you that-" She mumbled the last few words softly enough that her two friends couldn't hear.

"What was that? I didn't hear you." Hermione prompted her, shifting her weight impatiently.

"Ah, I'm -I'm an Omega now." Harry scowled at the floor, feeling her face burn red.

When she dared to glance up, Ron gave her an uncomfortable shrug that stemmed more from embarrassment than any judgement on his part.

Hermione looked stunned and was staring at Harry as if all thoughts of Charms and Professor Flitwick reprimanding them for being late had disappeared from her head.

"Oh, I'm so sorry I was rude, Harry!" She finally exclaimed, giving her an apologetic smile. "Don't worry, I'll read up all about Omegas in the library and compile a list for you to read as soon as classes are over." She promised, and looked surprised but pleased when Harry pulled her into a brief hug.

Ron hugged her back tightly when she did the same to him.

And that was that for a while.

(Other than Hermione's offended outrage when she came back from the library, ranting angrily about the horrible bias against Omegas, sexism and outright prejudice.

Harry had had to tell her to calm down, tell her that she didn't care about that, not right now.

"Please just give me the facts you've found?" She asked pleadingly.

Hermione huffed, uncrossed her arms and launched into a lecture about what all of this could mean for Harry in the future.)

Then the petrifications started, the students got more and more scared of the Heir of Slytherin and Harry found herself under a whole lot of attention that had nothing at all to do with her early Maturation or her being an Omega.

Things got worse when Hermione was petrified.

Her peers no longer thought her capable of attacking her fellow students, but Hermione was a virtual statue in the Hospital Wing and it was just Harry and Ron now.

Then Ginny was taken and they had to go after her.

When all was said and done, the diary destroyed and Harry was scarred but alive, she went to the Hospital Wing one calm afternoon to talk to Madam Pomfrey.

"Madam Pomfrey?" She asked into the seemingly empty Wing.

All the petrification victims had been revived and the rest of the school was out celebrating on the grounds, enjoying the sunshine.

"Miss Potter." Madam Pomfrey greeted when she came striding out of her office. Her eyes raked up and down Harry's body, looking for any kind of injury, but when she found none, settled for meeting her gaze. "Is there anything I can help you with, dear?"

"Um, can we talk?" Harry asked, feeling her cheeks brighten with an embarrassed blush as she fidgeted. "In private?"

"Of course, come here, Miss Potter." Madam Pomfrey said, leading her into her office, where she guided Harry to a padded armchair and had handed her a steaming cup of tea before Harry had been able to do more than blink. "Now, what was the matter?"

"Ah, last year." Harry began haltingly, blowing carefully on her tea. "You told me all about, um, Maturing?" Despite her best effort, the sentence ended on a questioning note. Her blush deepened.

"So it did happen last summer. I thought it might." Madam Pomfrey nodded slightly to herself and took a sip from her own cup. Harry was grateful for her business-like, professional demeanour. "Your body showed a few early signs when I healed you after that Philosipher's Stone nonsense." She explained at Harry's confused expression.

"Oh."

"And your questions, dear?" Madam Pomfrey prompted kindly when Harry remained silent after that.

"Hermione read that you're supposed to have about two heats a year, most likely more once you're older, but," She hesitated a moment, but at Pomfrey's patient, warm expression, Harry pressed on. "But I just had the one last summer and it's been nearly a year."

The real question was left unsaid but not unheard.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey began slowly, putting her tea cup down and folding her hands together on her desk. "Cases of Early Maturation, such as in your case, Miss Potter, are somewhat rare, but it isn't unheard of at all that there will be just one heat the first few years, until your body is ready to deal with more of them." The Medi-Witch lectured. "And once you've reached physical maturity, you might have four or even five of them a year."

Harry blanched slightly at the thought, but nodded to show that she was listening.

"Now, I was prepared to tell you about how to mask -or suppress is more accurate- your scent, but you seem to have mastered that already." The woman said, taking a deep whiff in Harry's general direction and giving her a playful wink.

Harry smiled slightly, but wasn't sure what she meant.

"I haven't really done anything?" She admitted. "I just really, really didn't want anyone to notice." Harry admitted, a little shamefaced to admit it. She wasn't ashamed of herself for being an Omega, she just didn't want anyone to look at her differently because of it.

Madam Pomfrey frowned slightly in thought, but didn't look worried. "It does happen naturally for some people, same with Alphas."

"Um, Madam Pomfrey." Harry stared down at her empty tea cup. "Are you an Omega?"

The grown witch was silent a while before she answered. "As a matter of fact, I am. You will find, Miss Potter, that there is a lot of bias against us, perhaps especially in the Wizarding world. The profession I chose is one of the few where that bias might work for you, instead of against." She sighed a little. "I won't lie, my dear, but once the rest of your year-mates start going through their Maturation, and your own status gets out, people will treat you in a manner that you won't like or approve of." She warned seriously.

Harry scowled. "They're gonna want me to be all 'meek' and 'tactile' and stuff like that." She muttered crossly. She wasn't at all fond of the idea. More the part where other people superimposed their own expectations on her than the personality traits themselves.

Madam Pomfrey's lips twitched slightly. "Exactly. And I must warn you that once some of the boys begin to mature into Alphas, there will be a lot of pheromones thrown around and you and your fellow Omegas will be more affected than the rest of the students."

Harry narrowed her eyes in thought. That sounded like a severe understatement, somehow. Harry was only twelve, but even she knew that a bunch of immature, teenaged Alphas gathered in one place would be more than chaotic until everyone had gotten used to it.

"I hope Malfoy won't turn out to be an Alpha." She scowled.

Madam Pomfrey chuckled. "His father and Grandfather were both Alphas and it is a dominant trait in the Malfoy family, so I believe it would do you good to prepare yourself for that outcome from the start, my dear."

Harry's scowl deepened. "Just perfect. I bet, in two years, my life will be hell."

Madam Pomfrey leaned over her desk to pat her comfortingly on the shoulder and that was that.

Nothing anyone could do about it right now anyway.

-x-x-x-

Third year saw yet another threat to Harry's life. This time in the form of a prison escapee named Sirius Black. It also saw Hermione Maturing into a Beta, much to her disappointment and vexation.

"We're still gonna fight against Omega Prejudice together, Harry, don't doubt it." Hermione declared the moment she got back from the Hospital Wing. "Well make all the stuffy, old-fashioned, bigoted people see sense before you know it." She promised hotly, wiping tears from her eyes with clear annoyance. "Damn these hormones." She hissed, hugging Crookshanks closer to her chest.

Harry gave the ugly cat a commiserating look, but nodded along to her emotional friend's words nonetheless.

Ron steered well clear of Hermione for a week after her emotional outburst that prompted her visit with Pomfrey, and their fight about Crookshanks and Scabbers was put on temporary hold until Ron was certain that Hermione was feeling alright again.

Harry was certain that she was cursed, because shortly before Christmas, Malfoy Matured into an Alpha, and was strutting around the castle like he owned the place, spreading his stink around and Harry swore she couldn't go anywhere without having it clogging her nose.

Sure, the older students had been a pain all of last year, trying to woo either Alphas or Omegas by releasing their pheromones as if it was some sort of competition, but at least she hadn't been stuck in the same classroom with them!

Harry had barely been able to get through Potions without wanting to get up, march over there and smack Malfoy in the face for his rude disregard for other people! It came to the point where even Snape sent the utter child annoyed glances when he thought no one was watching.

Hermione, being a Beta, wasn't as sensitive to it all as Harry was, but even she had been wrinkling her nose in disgust at the overwhelming stink.

Then Blaise Zabini came back from Christmas Holiday smelling faintly like Alpha, and he -somehow- managed to curb Malfoy somewhat. Probably with the acute threat of violence, since the two boys presumably shared a dorm.

Either way, Harry was tempted to either get him a belated Christmas present or walk up to the boy and hug him, she was that grateful.

The whole Gryffindor, Slytherin situation would make that rather awkward, though, so she tactfully refrained.

Then she found out Sirius Black had broken out of Azkaban, horrible Wizarding prison, for a very specific reason. Namely to kill Harry Potter. Her.

Then she found out, after a series of dramatic events that threatened to give her a headache, that Sirius Black was not just her Godfather but had never wanted to kill her, had broken out of a Dementor infested Hell to protect her from Ron's rat.

Scabbers turned out to be Peter Pettigrew, rat animagus extraordinaire! And incidentally also the wizard who had betrayed her parents to Voldemort.

The coward.

Harry got a few precious minutes where she had a proper parent. Where she would get away from the Dursleys and could live with someone who actually loved her, would do anything for her.

"You're an Omega, aren't you?" Sirius asked quietly as they walked through the tunnel back from the Shrieking Shack. Harry turned wide, wide eyes on her godfather. "Dogs have excellent sense of smell."

"Right." Harry sighed. Animagi were rather weird, if you asked her. Wait, this must mean that professor Lupin knew, too, didn't it?

Sirius cracked a crooked grin at her disgruntled look.

"You know, that was very similar to your mother's reaction, after her Maturation." He told her and Harry practically lit up. "Lily was generally really unimpressed with the over-all population, and didn't take kindly to anyone being degrading to her over being an Omega."

"There aren't that many who knows yet." Harry told him quietly, feeling strangely proud to be an Omega like her mother. There weren't only Betas in her family! "Were my dad an Alpha?" She asked, even though he must have been, since he married her mum.

It wasn't unheard of for Betas to have relationships with either Alphas or Omegas, but they very rarely lasted more than a few years at most.

"He was." Sirius nodded, the crooked smile widening slightly. "He was a bit of a prat after he first Matured, but it settled with age."

Harry blinked. The thought of Malfoy popped up in her mind's eye and Harry wrinkled her nose slightly. Sirius gave a hoarse chuckle.

Then there wasn't much time for talking and reminiscing about her parents.

After everything, professor Lupin's misadventures á la werewolf, Pettigrew's escape, the Dementor attack, the time-turner, Harry would still go back to the Dursley's, Sirius was on the run and nothing had really changed.

But she had a godfather now, and Harry had the feeling that this summer would be better than the last.

Aunt Marge would hopefully not feel up to visiting again while Harry was there, staying away until she had turned seventeen. It was obvious in Harry's head that she would leave Privet Drive for good the moment she could do so without being hunted down by the authorities.

-x-x-x-

Fourth year got off on a less than perfect start.

The Quidditch World Cup was amazing. Right up until it wasn't.

Harry got her first glimpse of Death Eaters and there was a muggle family being tortured and taunted high up in the air above them, accompanied by raucous laughter and jeers.

The Dark Mark, wild accusations, Winky the House-Elf, her stolen wand and the list went on. When Harry, Ron and Hermione finally got back to Hogwarts, there was a foreboding anticipation hanging in the air that everyone else seemed happy to ignore.

Shortly after 1st of September, Ron went through his Maturation, coming back to them as a Beta. Harry politely pretended not to notice Hermione's happy, relieved sigh once he told them.

She didn't have long to think about it, though, because then the Triwizard Tournament kicked off.

The feeling of dread spreading throughout her when her name came out of the Goblet of Fire was something she never wanted to experience again.

Then Ron decided to be a complete and utter prat and wilfully did not to believe her when she told him she hadn't put her name in.

Along with the rest of the school, really. Who knew Hufflepuffs could be so malicious and vindictive?

Her only allies turned out to be Hermione, Fred and George (both having matured just before the summer, Alphas, both of them) and surprisingly Neville Longbottom, a fellow Gryffindor.

Most of their classmates had gone through their Maturation now, with a few late-bloomers making up the exceptions here and there.

Harry wasn't ignorant of the speculative looks she was getting in the hallways -even before the Goblet of Fire fiasco on Halloween- as people wondered what she'd Mature into.

"You know they'll find out eventually." Hermione told her, a worried expression on her face as they were making a list of spells for her to practise before the First Task. Mostly Accio, though.

"I know." Harry sighed. "I have a feeling that it won't exactly get better when they do." She added darkly. Hermione grimaced, but didn't contradict her.

Surprisingly, she was approached by Fred and George about a week later.

"You know, Harry-kins." George said as they sidled up to her as she was walking up to the Owlery on her own, Hermione having gone to the library for some additional research. "Since George and I Matured," He paused dramatically here, "We've noticed something quite interesting."

"Oh?" Harry replied distractedly, fiddling with the letter to Sirius she held in her hands. "And what's that, George?"

Fred smiled. "Despite what all the morons around here think, you've already Matured, haven't you?"

Harry froze imperceptibly, for half a second, before she continued on her way as if nothing had happened. "What makes you say that?" She asked in an even, neutral voice.

"Mostly the way you act." Fred said seriously, both of them having dropped the playful air now. "But also the way you smell."

George nodded. "It's very faint, and we can't detect it all the time, but there's definitely an Omega scent on you sometimes." He frowned. "How are you doing that, by the way? If you truly are an Omega, then you should smell like one all the time."

Harry sighed, looked around, but the twins had chosen well when and where to confront her, because the corridor was deserted aside from the three of them.

"It's possible to mask your scent, you know." She told them, turning to look at them properly, eyebrows slightly raised. "Not everyone walks around stinking up the place wherever they go." She smirked ever so slightly when the two looked vaguely uncomfortable. She, personally, found Fred and George to smell rather pleasant. All cheerful warmth and unconditional support, a little like the Burrow, but mostly like themselves.

"Something to work on." Fred muttered, exchanging a look with George. "But how did you do it?"

Harry looked from Fred to George and back again before she answered with a small sigh. "Madam Pomfrey told me that some people know how to mask their scent naturally, from the start. I'm one of them." She paused, before forging on. Fred and George were friends, and had always had her back and tried their best to protect her from the rest of the school's scorn and fear. "I mean, I didn't really fancy everyone knowing that I was an Omega when I was twelve."

Fred and George both stared at her for the longest time, the blood slowly draining out of their faces, making their freckles stand out starkly against the rest of their skin.

"So when we got you from your Aunt's house..." George tapered of leadingly.

The bright blush on Harry's face was a dead give-away and she grimaced unhappily and gave a reluctant nod.

"Matured that summer." She muttered vaguely.

The twins glanced at each other for the longest time, a whole conversation in that single look, before they nodded, as if coming to a decision of some sort.

"We've got your back, Potter." Fred declared, slinging an arm over her shoulders, making Harry stare at him with bemusement.

"Yeah. We always wished we had another little sister instead of Ron." George added cheerfully, slinging his arm over her shoulders too, so that they were boxing her in.

With a short laugh, Harry continued on towards the Owlery, the two redheads falling into step on either side of her.

"For obnoxious Alphas, you two are alright." Harry told them with a teasing grin, making the two affect offended cries of wounded Alpha pride.

.

The First Task arrived with much fanfare.

Harry hadn't been able to sleep properly since she found out just what the Task would be about. And she seriously loved Hagrid; she'd have to get him something awesome next Christmas.

Because, DRAGONS.

They had to get passed dragons.

No, not just dragons, NESTING MOTHER DRAGONS!

Because, apparently, just a dragon wasn't difficult enough! Oh, no! She dearly wanted to find out which idiot at the Ministry had thought up that particular idea, and give them a punch to the face and a bloody dressing down that would make them rue the day they were born!

Merlin damn them all.

Harry paced inside the tent as she waited for her turn. At least she'd given Hermione a very tight hug (goodbye) in case she was burnt to a crisp via bloody dragon fire.

Viktor Krum kept giving her weird glances, so it was something of a relief when he finally left to take a go against his Chinese Fireball.

In the end, she survived. Even if the Hungarian Horntail had given her a nice little wound on her shoulder with it's tail, which Madam Pomfrey had healed but told her would leave a scar. Harry had nodded, too happy the Task had been over with that she hadn't particularly cared.

(It was first afterwards that she'd realise why Pomfrey had looked so apologetic; the Mate Mark was most commonly placed on the shoulder. But at least she had two shoulders, so she wouldn't worry about it.)

A very pale Ron had approached her afterwards. "Someone is definitely trying to bloody kill you." He had told her in a shaky voice and pulled her close for a hug, mindful of her sore shoulder.

Harry had smacked him on the chest and hugged him back, pretending like the tears in her eyes were from the pain and told him to please never do that again. "I need you, Ron. You're supposed to be on my side." She told him thickly, voice muffled slightly by his shoulder.

Hermione watched the reunion from off to the side, wiping at her eyes with a tearful smile.

"You're both idiots." She declared when their reunion was done. "Let's go back to the Common Room; I think the Twins are planning a surprise party for you."

"Yeah." Harry said with a soft laugh, treading her arms through Ron and Hermione's, pulling them back with her. The whole way up to the castle, they speculated about the Golden Egg and the Second Task.

Then she was told that there would be a Ball of all things, and oh, Miss Potter, you will need to bring a date, because you'll open the Ball together with the rest of the Champions!

Harry had felt like breaking down in hysterical laughter when McGonagall had dropped that particular bomb. She could only take so much stress before she snapped, you know. Not that the rest of the castle seemed to care.

The excitement just grew from there, and Harry could only dread the approaching nightmare. She didn't even know who to ask. She wasn't prepared for someone to approach her to ask first, though.

Which might be just why that is exactly what happened.

"Miss Potter." A deep, vaguely familiar voice asked her as she, Ron and Hermione were headed towards the library yet again once classes were over with for the day.
Harry turned around automatically, prepared to endure yet more insensitive questions or accusations of cheating.

Instead, she found herself blinking at Blaise Zabini.

"Er, yes?" She asked haltingly, having been caught entirely flat-footed. The Slytherins only addressed her to taunt her, if they weren't ignoring her existence altogether. "Can I help you, Zabini?"

She could hear Hermione hissing something at Ron behind her, followed by a muted 'Ow!' in Ron's voice, but she resisted the temptation of glancing over her shoulder to check what was going on.

Blaise eyed her neutrally for the longest time and Harry was beginning to think that this may turn out to be some sort of prank after all when he finally opened his mouth.

"I would like to ask if you would like to accompany me to the Tournament Ball." Blaise said, looking faintly bored with the conversation if not for the spark of intense interest in his dark eyes.

Harry stared at him, the words not computing at all for the longest time. In the end, someone -Hermione- kicked her in the leg and she awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Um." She began intelligently. She most of all wanted to ask 'Why?' but settled for, "You know I have to open the Ball with the other Champions, right?"

Blaise nodded, not looking surprised at all. "I did take it into consideration, but it isn't an inconvenience."

"Right." Harry replied faintly, unable to tear her eyes away from the boy. "Why?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it and Harry bit back a wince. "I mean, we haven't even talked before, so... why ask me? I'm in Gryffindor, you know."

"I am well aware, Miss Potter." Blaise said, and there was a patient note to his voice that would have made her bristle if it wasn't for the fact that she was still too shocked. "I am asking you because you are the lesser of two evils." At Harry's confused look, he reluctantly elaborated. "I do not think it has escaped your notice that I am an Alpha." He paused expectantly and Harry nodded. "Well, the available Omegas in Slytherin are all quite... tenacious," He sounded quite drably diplomatic when he said that and Harry's lips twitched. "Not to mention the Omegas in the other houses. As the Girl-Who-Lived, no one can openly criticize my decision to ask you, and should you accept, I will be able to spend the night in at least bearable company and get away from the rabid she-wolves."

Harry snorted. "Have you tried growling back at them?" She asked sarcastically while she seriously thought about it. Zabini wasn't fancying her, he had made that perfectly clear. But it wasn't like Harry had anyone she was interested in either, and this would solve her problem. As far as Alphas went, Zabini seemed like the decent sort, too, which was always a bonus. "What are your expectations?" She eventually asked, feeling like she was discussing business terms, oddly enough.

Zabini smiled, and yes, Harry had eyes and could see how handsome he was. Didn't mean she'd giggle and drool over him like an idiot, though.

"We would dance, converse politely. If we find ourselves in disagreeable company, we could decide to separate and return to our respective friends without any social repercussions once dinner and a few more obligatory dances have been cleared."

Harry pondered it for another second, before she nodded. "Agreed. I won't stand for any Alpha idiocy, though." She added with slightly narrowed eyes.

Zabini raised an eyebrow, as if he had no idea what 'Alpha idiocy' was supposed to be.

"No strutting around like I'm a bloody price you've won. No stinking up the place without good reason, and I'd appreciate it if you treated me like a real person. Which you've admittedly done surprisingly well, so far."

Zabini blinked before a slow smile began to spread across his face. "I have a feeling that we will get along just fine, Miss Potter."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, please call me Harry if we're doing this thing. You sound like one of the professors when you call me that." She grimaced, but was happy to see Zabini incline his head.

"Which means you will address me as Blaise, of course."

"Of course." Harry answered dryly. "It's a date then." She said and waved Blaise goodbye as she turned back to her friends.

The moment the Slytherin boy was out of hearing range, Ron grabbed her arm and hissed, "Are you out of your mind!? He's the enemy!"

"He presented a perfectly agreeable suggestion and I haven't heard you giving any better ones the last few days!" Harry hissed back, yanking her arm out of Ron's hand.

"What if he's planning to stand you up?" Ron asked darkly, glaring after Zabini, as if wanting to turn back and hex him.

"Then I'll be just as much without a date as before he asked me." Harry said tiredly. She was so sick of all this already.

"You could have gone with me!" Ron snapped back after a seconds pause.

Harry stared at him. "You really wanna go with me?" She asked evenly, already knowing the answer.

Ron's distasteful grimace said it all. "It would be like going with Ginny." He muttered, looking vaguely green for a moment there. "Never mind, then." He added and they walked the rest of the way to the library in silence.

Hermione smiled at her behind Ron's back and gave her a thumb's up and a wink, though.

The Yule Ball itself felt like a bigger obstacle than the Dragon had, honestly, the closer it got.

When the day finally arrived, Harry hadn't spoken another word with Blaise and the two of them had gone back to acting like they had never spoken. That suited Harry perfectly well, so she didn't mind.

Five hours before they Ball was set to begin, Hermione dragged her up to the girl's dorm and they quickly showered and started on getting ready.

Mrs Weasley had gotten Harry lovely dressrobes, elegantly cut in an emerald green that matched her eyes perfectly.

The most time was spent on taming her and Hermione's hair, and then make-up. Something that was mostly new ground for both of them. For once, it was a good thing they were sharing dorms with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They gladly helped, tittering and giggling the whole time.

They kept asking who Harry and Hermione were going with, but never waited long enough for them to actually answer, so it wasn't a problem keeping the not-secret.

When they were finally ready and returned to the Common Room, it was largely empty. All the boys had evidently migrated down to the Entrance Hall already. Something Harry found herself grateful for.

She wasn't at all sure she looked as good as Hermione, Lavender and Parvati insisted she did.

Her hair had been mostly pulled away from her face and done up in a simple but elegant knot on the back of her head. Not quite the same as Hermione's, because Harry still had a few locks framing her face and distracting from the lightning bolt on her forehead.

Her glasses had been discarded for the night, too: Hermione had owled her parents for contact lenses for Harry a month ago. She'd gotten a fierce hug for that one alone.

Her look had been finished off with a simple touch of make-up that was hardly noticeable.

"Just taking off the glasses is almost enough." Lavender had said with muted envy. "Look at your eyelashes!"

"Let's go?" Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded. The usually bookish girl looked radiant. "Going to tell me who you're going with yet?"

"You'll see soon enough." Hermione said, a definite spring in her step as they managed to pass through the opening to the tower without messing up their hair.

"You know who I'm going with." Harry complained half-heartedly.

Arriving at the Entrance Hall, Harry was taken aback by the mass of different colours. It was a stark difference to the usual black of the Hogwarts uniform.

All the dressrobes made it look like there was a flock of exotic birds milling around instead of students.

Harry and Hermione exchanged nervous looks at the top of the last stair, and Hermione took her hand to squeeze it tightly for one last moment, before they took deep breaths and descended towards the waiting masses.

People were staring.

But it wasn't the usual sort of looks that Harry was used to.

Now that all the girls were wearing actually flattering clothes, Harry could see that she was a fair bit more developed than the majority of their year-mates, and she fiercely squashed down the surge of self-consciousness.

It's not like it was her fault not all the other girls had... grown into their chests yet. Or their hips.

Urgh. Was McLaggen ogling her chest? And hips alternately, apparently.

Harry made a note to jinx him later for the blatant disregard and objectifying.

With a mental shake of the head, Harry began to scan the crowd for Blaise, feeling a bit more nervous about their 'deal' now, but was determined not to think about it too much. She waved discreetly to Ron, who was near-gaping at her and Hermione in turn, and then continued her search.

When she finally found him, he was -of course- standing with the rest of his House mates, throwing continuous glances towards the stairs, no doubt looking for her.

Harry realised with amusement that he hadn't recognized her. Not that most people seemed to have.

Pasting a polite, pleasant smile on her face, Harry moved towards the Slytherin group.

And of course Malfoy was in the middle of it, a very pink Pansy Parkinson practically draped on his arm, giggling senselessly and emitting enough Omega pheromones to make Harry mildly dizzy. Of course, it might be in self-defence, to counter the particularly strong Alpha stink in the air tonight. Most of it in this area coming from Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be pestering her date.

"-seriously, Zabini, why won't you just tell me who the bloody hell you're going with?" Malfoy was whining when she got within hearing range. "It's not like you're going with one of the Beauxbaton girls, or you'd have said something about it by now, you smug bastard." He added in a disgruntled mutter.

"Blaise." Harry greeted, perhaps a little more loudly than strictly necessary. "I believe you missed me coming down the stairs." She smiled a bit more genuinely when Blaise turned to her and his disinterested expression gave way for a widening of the eyes in genuine surprise.

Every single Slytherin in the group turned to blatantly stare at her. Hah! So much for the House of the 'sly' and the 'cunning'!

Pansy looked like she wanted to spit out a very rude, 'Who the hell are you!?' but managed to hold her tongue with visible effort.

"Harry?" Blaise asked very slowly, his gaze drawn, seemingly without conscious permission, to trail down her body before snapping back to her eyes, where they pointedly stayed.

Harry very determinedly kept smiling and gave a gracious nod. "You seem to have been too immersed in your company to have noticed me." She added with an amused glance at Malfoy, who was staring at her -chest? Really?- with a hanging jaw. It wasn't until Pansy elbowed him in the ribs with an offended air and pushed her own chest against Draco's arm that he snapped out of it.

"Potter?" He squinted dubiously at her, spitting out her surname like a favourite curse and Harry felt like rolling her eyes. "Scarhead?" He added, as if he still wasn't sure.

"Honestly, Malfoy. You thought up that oh, so clever 'nickname' when we were twelve; can't you think of anything a bit more imaginative by now?" She asked, voice dry enough to rival professor Binns'.

Blaise made a sound that was so soft she only heard it because she was standing right next to him, that sounded suspiciously like smothered laughter. Wait, when had Blaise tucked her hand into the crook of his arm!?

...pay attention, Potter!

Her words were met with another bout of stunned silence. Seriously, where was the childish but grantedly somewhat witty, snarky banter she was used to?

Malfoy slowly turned to stare at Blaise.

"Zabini, tell me you're not going with one of the few witches in our year that haven't even Matured yet?" He asked, most likely aiming for flat and incredulous, but he sounded distracted to Harry, who eyed him with some incredulity of her own.

Honestly, Fred and George had noticed she was an Omega by now and they weren't even in the same year as her!

Times like these made her genuinely wonder what the general student population spent their days doing, because they certainly weren't paying attention to most things. Not that she wanted her status to be widely known just yet, but come on!

She abruptly realised that the rest of the group were waiting with bated breath for her -anticipated- reaction, and Harry gave a slow blink, trying to figure out what the hell they were expecting.

"I do believe they were waiting for defensive outrage and or hurt." Blaise suggested into the silence, clear amusement in his voice.

"Ah, sorry to disappoint." Harry nodded. That made sense. Kind of. "Blaise, I do believe we should go wait closer to the doors, or McGonagall will have my head." She turned to her date, ignoring the increasingly annoyed and outraged expressions on her Slytherin classmates' faces.

"You might actually be right, Harry." Blaise replied pleasantly. "She's looming right over there, and I do believe she's been glaring in our direction several times in the last few minutes."

Harry turned back to Malfoy with a dazzling smile. "As always, it was nice talking to you, Malfoy. Truly enchanting conversation." And with a last nod to the group, Blaise lead her in McGonagall's direction.

They were silent for a few seconds as they walked, side by side, and Harry was trying to ignore the looks they were attracting.

She didn't know if it was her imagination or not that most of them were on her. Probably just paranoia, she decided when one girl very nearly burst into tears when she saw Blaise.

"You've been holding out on me, Potter." Blaise finally said softly, not looking at her.

Harry smiled. "I do believe that most people pay me too much attention to notice the actually important bits."

Blaise glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and Harry raised her own right back at him.

"I didn't even recognize you." He muttered under his breath and Harry snorted.

"Ron didn't recognize me; I promise I won't hold it against you."

"Ah, yes. The youngest Weasley boy was looking particularly floored earlier." Blaise commented, something like light-hearted teasing hinted at in his tone.

"Careful, that's one of my best friends you're talking about, there." Harry cautioned mock-sternly. Well, there was a genuine warning in there; she wouldn't tolerate any outright mocking towards her friends, or Zabini would spend most of the evening on his own.

"Duly noted." Blaise nodded, having obviously gotten the message. "So what is your deal with Malfoy, anyway? I've never bothered to listen to him rant about you long enough to actually figure it out."

Harry gave an inelegant snort. "Met him briefly before the first year in Diagon Alley. He was very rude, insulted one of my friends. Then I met him on the train, he was rude to me again and incredibly rude to more of my friends. Then he practically demanded I be his friend while, and I'm not kidding, saying outright that I needed a proper babysitter -which was him- since I couldn't think for myself." Harry recounted quickly and succinctly. She'd had to repeat it often enough to Hermione by now to know it by heart, so she didn't even have to think about it.

Blaise winced. "That's... almost impressive." He admitted reluctantly. "All before the Sorting, too."

"Let's just say that Ron isn't the only one suffering from frequent foot-in-mouth syndrome, but at least Ron isn't deliberately condescending and offensive about it." Harry said dryly.

There was an almost pained expression on Blaise's face and Harry patted him comfortingly on the arm. Hey, at least she didn't have to live with the prat.

"Anyway, then there was the whole offensive 'obnoxious Alpha' routine he pulled in third year. That didn't endear him to me any more, I assure you. Even Snape was annoyed with him at the end and I'm fairly sure Snape would let Malfoy get away with murder in his classroom and give me detention for it even if I wasn't there." Harry realised that she was pulling a Hermione and was talking far too much to cover for her mounting nerves.

Blaise seemed to realise, because after a surprised pause at the start of her word vomit, he smiled slightly and patted her hand, the one tucked into his elbow.

"No one will really pay attention to the opening dance, you know?" He offered diplomatically.

Harry laughed quietly, a slightly hysterical note to it she was perfectly happy to ignore.

"You think? Because I'm fairly sure people have been staring at me more than usual, and I've been a pariah this year, if you hadn't noticed." She said, glancing around nervously. "Again." She added in a quiet mutter under her breath, because seriously, it was like second year all over again. Only worse somehow, because she hadn't had Ron for half of it this time.

She was still alert enough to notice Blaise's incredulous glance and she turned to look at him questioningly.

In response, Blaise's eyes trailed down her body and Harry was too confused to bristle defensively. Yes, she knew the dress was a little tight, hugging her form, but it's not like Mrs Weasley would have known how much she'd have grown by now.

"You're honestly oblivious, Potter." Blaise said, but he sounded amused.

Harry frowned at him, wondering if she ought to be offended.

Instead, she tugged self-consciously on the dress, hoping to make it lie smoother over her hips. She'd noticed it wrinkled when she walked.

"I liked these dressrobes, I don't get what's wrong with them." She mumbled unhappily.

"Oh, for the love of- It's not the robes that are the problem here." Blaise managed to sound amused and exasperated at the same time.

Harry scowled at him. "Then tell me what the hell the matter is, and stop dancing around the bloody subject." She growled back at him, tightening her grip on his arm warningly. This was coming dangerously close to him being an insufferable Alpha.

Blaise actually, honest to Merlin, rolled his eyes at her. Harry was too surprised to be properly offended.

"Merlin, Potter." He sighed, grinning a little, making one of the girls standing close to them squeak. Harry and Blaise both ignored it with practised ease. "I'm trying to tell you you're beautiful and you take it as an insult!"

Harry, having already had a retort ready on the tip of her tongue, froze with her mouth halfway open when Blaise's words actually registered.

She slowly closed her mouth, still staring wide-eyed up at a smug-looking Blaise. She could feel the heat radiating off of her cheeks, but there wasn't really anything she could do about it.

"Kneazel got your tongue?" He asked when she still hadn't said anything a minute later.

"Shut up!" She slapped his arm lightly. "I'm trying to accept that a Slytherin just gave me a compliment!" She paused. "That a boy gave me a compliment." She amended with a grimace, eyeing Blaise like she was wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

Blaise affected an offended look. "Oh, come now, Potter. I can't possibly be the first male to ever give you a compliment!" He smiled. It slowly faded when Harry just stared at him. "Honestly?"

He sounded as close to shocked as Harry had even imagine he could be.

She shrugged. "I'm the Girl-Who-Lived, Zabini. I'm not a real person to most of the wizarding world, just this... ideal that they imagine when they think of Voldemort and his demise."

Hermione had ranted about it enough over the years that Harry had come to the realisation that it must be true. The people who actually saw her were few and far between.

Blaise stared at her, a serious expression on his face which had been grinning a minute earlier.

"Never thought of it like that." He eventually muttered.

McGonagall chose that moment to declare that the Yule Ball was starting and could the Champions and their dates please step forward?

Harry ended up standing right behind Hermione. She blinked.

Hermione's date was Krum? She bit back a wince; Ron would not be happy about that. She just knew it.

"How's it going?" Hermione asked over her shoulder, sparing a quick smile for Blaise before focusing on Harry, who grimaced.

"Fine."

Hermione narrowed her eyes on her. "You would say that even if you were bleeding out." She accused.

Harry sent her a blinding smile in response and Hermione didn't have time to say anything else before they were moving forward to enter the Hall for the opening dance.

Harry took a few deep breaths, unconsciously tightened her hold on Blaise, who sent her a reassuring glance and then they were dancing.

It turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant evening.

"You're surprisingly pleasant company, Zabini." Harry said after dinner had been cleared and they'd moved back to the dance floor.

"No need to sound so surprised." Blaise joked, but looked at her with a thoughtful air.

Harry was momentarily distracted when they danced passed professor Moody, who was leading professor McGonagall with a surprising amount of grace for a man with a wooden leg, and professor Dumbledore, who was dancing with Madam Maxime. Their conversations were fairly entertaining, and she very much didn't want to think about Moody's eye being able to see through her clothes.

Disturbing thought and she couldn't spare the blood for the massive blush it'd give her, so Harry forcefully ignored it.

What the hell did it matter what sort of socks she was wearing? No one but her and Hermione would see them! (And professor Moody, apparently, but she wasn't thinking about that!)

When she turned back to Blaise, he was staring at her with wide, wide eyes, looking like he'd received the shock of his life.

Harry frowned slightly and looked around in an attempt to see whatever it was that Blaise had obviously noticed.

Then she had to hurry to regain her balance when Blaise stopped dancing to tow her away from the dance floor.

Confused, and beginning to grow a little alarmed, Harry stumbled after her date. Who was behaving rather absurdly. She hadn't seen anything that could have upset him this much, unless he had stared too long at Mad-Eye's face...

Harry shook the ridiculous thought from her head and focused on Blaise when he pulled her to a stop by the wall in a spot that was a fair bit more private than the dance floor.

He pulled his wand and Harry tensed, but he merely flicked it towards the middle of the room -and the thickest part of the crowd- with a muttered spell and then focused fully on Harry.

"What's the matter with you?" She asked, trying to figure out what could have happened.

Instead of saying anything, Blaise pulled her closer to him and leaned his face down towards the side of her neck.

Harry had drawn her wand and stepped away from him before he could do more than take a deep- Her eyes widened. He hadn't tried to do anything... inappropriate. Not really. He'd smelled her!

"Potter." Blaise began, eyes still wide. "You're an Omega."

Harry's eyes widened as she stared up at the shell-shocked Blaise, only capable of meeting his gaze for the longest time, her brain having completely frozen.

Shit.

"You're being an obnoxious Alpha." Harry blurted before she could think of anything better to do and turned on the spot to march away from him and find Hermione.

"Potter!" Blaise hissed, taking hold of her hand and pulling her back towards him, taking care not to pull hard enough to hurt her. "You can't just walk away!"

"Watch me!" Harry hissed back, trying to tug her hand out of Blaise's grip, but he tightened it response and she glared up at him, wondering if she'd be forced to curse him to let her go. "Let me go!"

"Not until we talk about this!" Blaise objected in a loud whisper. "When the hell- everyone thinks you haven't Matured yet!"

"Yes! And I'd very much like it if they kept thinking that a while longer." Harry scowled at him, giving up on trying to reclaim her hand. For now.

Blaise stared at her as if he couldn't possibly understand her reasoning.

"Why?" He asked, proving her right.

She practically sneered at him. "Do you really have to ask? How do the average wizard treat an Omega, Blaise? Huh?" She gave him a second to think about it. "Now combine that with the fact that I'm the Girl-Who-Lived." She rolled her eyes in contempt at the ridiculous title.

Blaise was silent a long while, his grip on her hand slowly loosening, until her let her go altogether.

He let out a heavy sigh and pulled a hand through his hair, eyeing her like he had never truly seen her before.

"You can mask your scent. Almost completely." He muttered. More stating fact than asking.

Harry nodded anyway. "I'm a natural; been able to do it since the start." She waved a hand dismissively; that wasn't really important right now. What was important was that Zabini knew her secret. Would he keep it or spread the word as fast as possible?

"When was the 'start'?" He asked next, voice quiet and serious and Harry scowled at him again. Why couldn't he let her be angry with him? If it was Malfoy who had discovered it, she'd be happy to hate his guts and curse him into oblivion while she was at it.

Blaise... was looking honestly lost. As if everything he'd ever known about her had been a lie and he'd been left floundering.

Okay, that sounded a bit dramatic. But still.

She stubbornly maintained her scowl at him, but crossed her arms defensively in front of her chest.

"When I was twelve, alright?"

"You went through your Maturity when you were twelve?" Blaise repeated, clarified, faintly. "During the school year?" He asked, looking like he was trying to remember everything he could about Harry that year. Yes, there was the wince. It felt like most people had forgotten all about the fact that practically the entire school had thought she was the Heir of Slytherin that year, she mused.

"No." Harry said shortly. "Before it, during the summer." She'd just about turned twelve, actually.

Blaise looked almost pained for a second, before he took a deep breath, briefly closed his eyes and his face smoothed out until it was the polite mask she was used to seeing around the castle. When he opened his eyes again, he held out his hand towards Harry.

"Would you honour me with this dance, Potter?" He asked in a painfully formal tone of voice.

Harry scowled at him but grudgingly placed her hand in his and let him lead her back to the dance floor.

When they were dancing again, Harry waited for him to start talking. In the end she lost her patience before Blaise cut to the chase.

"Look, you can't just not say anything after all that, alright?" She asked, tilting her head in the direction they'd just come from. "So what's it going to be, Zabini?" She asked in a voice that was much colder than she'd ever addressed him before. "Will this be all over the castle by breakfast tomorrow?"

"I won't tell anyone, Harry." Blaise eventually said and he sounded mainly... tired. And maybe a little bit amused.

"Why the bloody hell not? You have nothing to gain from it." She pointed out furiously, glaring off into the distance.

Blaise was quiet for a long while and the only reason Harry let him be this time was because he looked pensive, as if he was seriously contemplating what to tell her.

"Did you know that my mother is an Omega?" He asked, and Harry blinked at the non-sequiteur.

"No."

"Well, she is." Blaise frowned, as if this wasn't what he really wanted to say. He let out a sigh. "The thing is, Potter. Harry. I feel like you might have enough to deal with right now without adding on."

Harry gave him an incredulously stare. "You think?" Her voice was entirely flat, making Blaise grimace a bit apologetically.

"Either way, I don't think you'll be able to keep your secret for much longer regardless of what I do." He continued. At Harry's questioning look, Blaise cleared his throat awkwardly, actually blushing a little.

Harry stared at him with growing trepidation, suddenly not wanting to hear what he'd say next.

"If you were that early, then you've had just the one heat a year, right?" Blaise's voice was so low that she'd barely heard him and she was right in front of him. His lips had barely moved.

Harry did hear him, though. And sincerely wished she hadn't. How did Blaise even know that when Hermione hadn't found anything about it in the Library books!?

Mortified, but unable to refute it, she stiffly turned her head to look away from him.

They danced in awkward silence after that, until Harry let out a frustrated sigh.

"The bottom line is that you'll keep it to yourself until it no longer matters, is that right?" She asked, stubbornly meeting his gaze head on. She was a damn Gryffindor, damn it!

"You have my word." He said, inclining his head slightly.

Satisfied by that answer, Harry realised that there was little she could do if he broke his promise other than meet out appropriate retribution.

Her musings were interrupted by a red-headed whirlwind before the current song could end.

"Excuse me, my scaly, slithering friend." A familiar voice asked with overly pompous care, making her think of Percy despite her best efforts. "May I steal your partner for this dance?"

"Yes." Harry cut in before Blaise had a chance to open his mouth. "Thank you for a lovely evening so far, Blaise. But I'm going to call on one of our clauses and call it a night, if that's agreeable to you."

Blaise graciously inclined his head and Harry took a perhaps foolish chance to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. His surprised look lured one last smile from Harry before she let Fred steal her away into a far more violent dance than the one she'd shared with Blaise.

"Was the Snakey Alpha boy bothering you?" Fred asked her seriously the moment they were sufficiently far away.

Harry grimaced. "He found out. You know."

Fred's eyes narrowed slightly as he craned his head to stare back at Blaise, who looked to be moving away from the dancing crowd.

"Need me an' Forge to take care of it?" He asked casually.

"You sound like it would be a professional hit." Harry laughed, but Fred merely smiled. "And we'll see." She said once she'd stopped chuckling. "He said he wouldn't tell anyone, but." She shrugged.

"We'll find out tomorrow." Fred nodded, as if he had just decided something and Harry was suddenly hoping that Blaise would keep his promise for an entirely different reason.

Seriously, Blaise was one of the few tolerable Alphas in the castle, Harry didn't want the twins to go after him too hard.

With a wild laugh, Fred whirled her away in a reckless chase after his twin, who was dancing just as wildly with Katie Bell.

-x-x-x-