Outside, a storm raged though neither the wind nor cold penetrated the old stones of the castle. Silhouetted before a fire, a small figure bent over a thick mass of ropes, fingers flying as they wove strands over and under. The ropes shifted, transformed and seemed to move as though with life themselves.

As he worked, the boy only had one word which broke the silence.

"Please," he whispered, "Please."

. . . . . .

In retrospect, it should have been completely obvious.

First, however clever and crafty they thought themselves, there was a reason 'Most Potente Potions' was found in the restricted section. Second, as brilliant as Hermione's potion-making was, there was a reason the Polyjuice potion was considered exceedingly difficult by even the most experienced wizards. Third-

Well, third was-

Harry Potter stared once more at the unrecognizable figure in the mirror. Gone was the black, unruly hair, gone were the green eyes so reminiscent of his mother, gone were the glasses, the scar, the familiar, regular, well- not to put to fine a point on it- male face.

Instead, a girl looked back at Harry. A girl with straight brown hair, a thin face, and an astonished expression.

Harry raised his hand to pinch his cheek and the reflection mirrored the movement perfectly. She- whoever she was- was dressed in his Gryffindor robes, which still fit reasonably well. His shoes were a little big and his collar a little loose around the new neck. Harry rubbed his face and closed his eyes so tightly that he could see stars.

But when he opened them, she was staring back at him.

"Alright mate?" Ron peaked his head around the door of the abounded girl's bathroom. "Any change?"

"No." Harry sighed and the voice was different- higher pitched and softer. "Ron- I can't use my wand. Nothing's working. Even the spells we learned last year-" His voice raised hysterically, on the edge of tears, even though Harry had never cried in front of anyone before. Ron hurried in and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey- hey- it's ok. It's going to be ok."

Harry sniffed- another thing he had never done before- and leaned into Ron's shoulder. "How's 'mione."

"I got her sorted with Madame Pompfrey." Ron patted her shoulder. "I think we should take you now, yeah?"

"Just a few more hours-" Harry begged. He clutched the piece of wood that once had been his beloved wand but now refused to respond to any direction he gave it. "Please- I'm sure if we just wait-"

Five hours ago, they had met in the bathroom- hairs of their respective targets clutched in their hands. Hermione was going to transform into Millicent Bulstrode, Ron into Vincent Crabbe, and Harry- after much debate- had grabbed a few hairs of Theodore Nott. Nott, he had argued, would actually ask Draco questions about the Slytherin Heir. Crabbe and Goyle were too dumb to actually care. It made sense to choose Nott, who was also returning home for Christmas and sat in front of Harry in Charms.

Four and a half hours ago, they had each forced a disgustingly lumpy potion down their respective throats. Harry remembered his potion had tasted faintly of pine and kippers.

Four hours and 29 minutes ago, Hermione had retreated to a bathroom stall in tears, Ron stood as a convincing Crabbe, and Harry had his first glimpse of this new, very female, very not intended face.

Two hours and 29 minutes ago, Ron had faded back to into his normal form, taken Hermione, who was looking more feline than friend, to the hospital wing, and Harry settled down to await his eventual reversal.

As of three seconds ago, Harry was still waiting.

'Nah, mate." Ron shook his head in finality, "This is just weird. You hear about Polyjuice doing weird things in the comics, but I've never heard of this. You've got to see a Healer."

. . . . . . .

"Well, I am not sure what to tell you Mr.- Miss-"

Even the unflappable Madame Pomphrey seemed baffled by this newest development as she stared down at the child sitting morosely on the hospital bed. The girl that Weasley had brought in earlier had been easy to diagnose- a clear potions malfunction. Madame Pomphrey had fed her a light sedative to calm the girl and a magic suppressor, so the girl's own magic didn't attack the new form she found herself in.

But this boy- girl? child?- all of her diagnostic spells came back negative. According to the best of her knowledge, this child was in fine health, good magic, and free from all maladies both mundane and magical.

"Potter," The girl stated desperately, "I'm Harry Potter."

"Of course you are dear." Madame Pomphrey soothed. If the girl hadn't arrived with the Weasley in tow, she'd have sworn that the little Nott heir in Slytherin had been mucking about in gender reversal charms. "I'm afraid that this is a little out of my experience. I'm going to have to call Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore."

The little girl blanched at names.

. . . . . . . .

"Unusual, truly unusual." Professor Dumbledore stared down his long nose at the once Harry Potter and lifted the straight brown fringe once more to see if the scar had suddenly appeared. However, the forehead remained perfectly blank.

Professor Snape was looking down at the two children with a sour, calculating expression.

"The Polyjuice potion was almost perfect," He announced. As soon as he had been summoned to the infirmary and learned of the situation, he had swept off to the girl's bathroom to confiscate the remaining potion. "The worst that should have happened was that the hair dissolved-"

"Hairs," the girl interrupted sullenly, "We each grabbed two hairs."

The two older men froze and exchanged a long glance. Finally, Dumbledore folded his hands into his sleeves and gravely regarded the young faces.

"Mr. Potter- do you remember whose hairs you collected?"

The girl huffed, "Nott. Theo Nott's hairs. I grabbed them off the back of his robes at the end of Charms."

"Both hairs?"

"Yes."

Professor Snape interrupted, "Were the hairs identical?"

The small, pale face twisted in concentration. "Well, one was straight and brown and the other hand a slight curl to it- just like-"

"Just like a certain Miss Daphne Greengrass with whom you also share a Charms class," Professor Snape finished icily. "It never concerned you that they weren't identical hairs- never crossed your mind that you might have grabbed two-"

"No!" The girl cried out, "I thought they- well, my hair can be both straight and curl-" Her voice trailed off miserably as Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. The girl's hair was thin and straight- the sort that would never hold a curl without great coaxing.

"Indeed, well I must congratulate you, Mr. Potter. You have successfully managed some of the darkest magic of all: line theft."

"What!" The thin face with large brown eyes stared up at him in astonishment. "I- what- I didn't mean-"

"What Professor Snape means," Professor Dumbledore stepped in with a nasty look at the Potion's Master, "Is that there has been an unfortunate potion's accident. You see Harry, polyjuice potion is a dangerous and dark potion. If you dissolve more than one person's hair in the potion you can inadvertently become a mix of both persons - permanently."

"What!" Ron broke in, "This is permanent? Harry isn't Harry?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "It appeared that Mr. Potter has taken on Miss Greengrass's gender, but appears to be a Nott in all other matters. No doubt because it was your intention to take Theo's form."

"But I'm still me- right?" The girl asked, large tears welling in her eyes. When Professor Dumbledore shook his head, she burst into sobs much to the astonishment of her friend who patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"Luckily," Professor Dumbledore said brightly as he took a seat on the other side of the bed and laid a hand on the light brown hair, "There is an easy solution. I am sure that you have some of Harry's hairs in your dorm- in a comb or on a pillowcase. All we need to do is mix those with the potion and possibly some of Mr. Weasley's. With any luck, you'll be back in your own body in no time."

The girl lifted her head and blinked back tears, "You mean it, sir? I could go back to -"

"-being Harry Potter?" The headmaster smiled down at her, "Of course you can, my dear. All Mr. Weasley needs to do is collect some of your hairs and Professor Snape needs to bring up the potion-"

"I vanished it." Professor Snape said flatly, inspecting his fingernails. "Per normal procedure."

"You-" With great effort, Professor Dumbledore managed to restrain his anger, and settle back onto the bed. "How long will it take you to brew another potion."

Professor Snape sucked his teeth, clearly luxuriating in the older man's distress, "Three months at least."

"You have a month."

"Sir," the Potion Master's dark eyes flashed in anger, "The potion requires a month to brew at a minimum. I need to restock my supplies- which were ransacked for this unfortunate escapade. I also need to confer with Ms. Granger about exactly what she did to recreate the potion in its imperfections. This all takes time."

"Fine- just-" Dumbledore gave the girl a lingering look, "Hurry. The longer Harry stays like this, the more unpredictable the results become."

"Naturally," Professor Snape bowed his head but didn't leave. "There is one other thing. We must inform Lord Nott."

"Severus-" Dumbledore said sternly, "Don't be absurd. You know Lord Nott's leanings, how he feels about Harry Potter-"

"Who is no longer among us," Snape interjected with palpable glee, "I do wonder how he would feel about meeting a daughter of his own blood?"

When Dumbledore was silent, the Potion's master continued, "I wonder how the greater pureblood community would feel knowing that one of their own had been . . ." He waved a long-fingered hand as if to imply all the worst. Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

"Fine. Contact Lord Nott and explain the situation. But discretely, Severus. This is already getting out of hand."

"Of course, Sir." Professor Snape held out a hand for the girl who had been following the conversation with nervous, closed expression. "Come, Miss Nott."

Harry went.

. . . . .

A/N: a very dumb, but a silly little story that popped into my head. Very much inspired by the premise of 'Lucasta: Born of Magic' by excentrymuse on Ao3. Let me know what you think!

Updated: 9/19 with intro scene based on a comment by the Shadows Mistress.