AN: Hello, all! I've gotten this question a few times so I'll tell ya'll straight out: no one knows Harry is a girl yet. Yes, the cuddling from the last chapter's unusual for a boy of fourteen, but Harry and Sirius were in vulnerable moods and needed some comfort. I don't think even canon Harry at any age would turn down a hug from his godfather after how long he went without someone to love him.

As this story goes on, you might realize that it resembles a shoujo manga in places. This is intentional. I've never written a story that makes someone want to go all "Squeee!" and I wanted to try it. If it doesn't work, I'll at least know my strengths and weaknesses better.

BTW, I'm sort of modleling Harry after Haruhi from Ouran High School Host Club, if I haven't mentioned it before. They won't be exactly the same of course, but that's the feel I want. (Coincidentally I think Sirius might end up being something like a cross between Tamaki and Haruhi's father.)

Since she had been turned into a girl, Harry hadn't really thought about how the change would affect her on a chemical level. Oh, sure, she had gone out into Muggle London during her time before third year to buy a book on the human body to get acquainted with what she now had going on in her guts, but she hadn't actually thought about puberty outside of the abstract. Her hips would get wider (to make room for potential babies), she'd grow lumps of fat on her chest that would be painful to sleep on, and she'd start bleeding out of her crotch. (That last bit freaked her out when she read that the blood was unfertilised eggs expelling from her body. She was going to leak dead babies!) All of that had been researched and accepted. Yeah, it wasn't the changes she had been taught to expect from primary school health class but it wasn't like guy adolescence was less weird than the girl type.

After figuring out that she'd need supplies for her eventual girl problems, Harry had returned to that shop in Whimsic Alley and gotten the shop attendant from before to help her collect girl stuff. The woman had been happy to help and had taken Harry to an apothecary that specialized in feminine potions, as well as an underwear store for bras and such. (Harry had been very take with a type of undershirt that tucked away breasts in Wizard-Space. Perfect for Quidditch; she wouldn't have to worry about wind resistance at all!) She had returned to her room at The Leaky Cauldron with a bag filled with everything she'd need when she started developing.

Harry had been ready for changes of the body. Changes of the mind hadn't occurred to her.

Since she had become spiritually one with infinity, people stopped being a bother to her, they had become less important. Not to say that she no longer cared for mankind, but outside opinions mattered nearly not at all. She felt freer than a bird and Ron and Hermione often had to draw her attention back to earth, much to their exasperation. She was so much lighter in spirit and was more content with her life. She hadn't expected such a run-of-the-mill matter like adolescence to start messing with that.

At first, it was little things. She messed about with her hair more. Sometimes she'd catch herself staring at herself in the mirror. There was once that she wondered how her figure would look in a dress. Unsettling, yes, but they weren't anything major.

When random fans of both genders had shouted marriage proposals at her in the middle of Diagon Alley, she had been not only embarrassed and awkward, but flattered and — dare she say it — just the teensiest smug. There had definitely been some feminine pride at having so many potential suitors before Sirius' and Remus' snarling and dragging her off snapped her out of it. And then there had been more smugness at having a pair of guys stand guard over her. She had a bit of a break down about it later in the privacy of her room but there was no lying to herself.

Eventually, she came to notice the aesthetic appeal of other people. She found herself admiring how other girls were put together, the balance of their proportions and how they dressed. Her eyes couldn't help but wander over boys and assess their features; she appreciated their forms and the symmetry of their faces. She had never noticed how beautiful other people could be before. It made her want to draw them or maybe dress them up.

Still, while all those things were matters she had never thought on before, it was very easy for Harry to examine the thoughts in detail before dismissing them altogether. The entirety of her revelations and adolescent awakenings remained within the privacy of her mind. She couldn't say for certain, but she was pretty sure neither Sirius nor Remus knew of her mental musings. She didn't think they needed to know so she hadn't said anything about them. They just didn't matter enough in the long run.

So when she arrived at the Burrow that day and set eyes on Charlie Weasley, it was safe to say Harry hadn't expected to be so overcome.

Harry came rocketing out of the fireplace as if Santa was on a tight schedule and she was an express delivery Christmas present. She slammed bodily into one of the twins and sent them both tumbling to the floor. They landed in a groaning heap, the redhead with his face smooshed against a chair leg and Harry with her head lodged under the boy's armpit.

The kitchen exploded with laughter. As the two tried to untangle themselves, two more whooshes sounded, signifying the entrance of Sirius and Remus.

"Goodness, Harry," Remus said, helping her to her feet. She got a better look at who she had landed on; ah, it was Fred. "You told us you were terrible with Flooing but I didn't realize it would be this bad."

Harry shrugged helplessly and straightened her clothes. "I'm allergic to fireplaces." She looked around and saw that Ron and George had gotten up from where they had been sitting to pull Fred to his feet. Sitting at the scrubbed wooden table where they had sat were two red-haired people Harry had never seen before, though she knew immediately who they must be: Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers.

"How're you doing, Harry?" said the nearer of the two. "I'm Bill."

Bill came as something of a surprise. Harry knew that he worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and that Bill had been Head Boy at Hogwarts; Harry had always imagined Bill to be an older version of Percy: fussy about rule-breaking and fond of bossing everyone around. However, Bill was — there was no other word for it — cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. Bill's clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Harry recognized his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide.

Charlie got to his feet and held out a large hand, which Harry shook, feeling calluses and blisters under her fingers. This was the thrill-seeker of the family, the one who worked with dragons in Romania. Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. He was still heads and shoulders taller than Harry either way. He had a broad, good-natured face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it.

He grinned at her and said, "Nice to see you in proper lighting this time 'round. Thanks again for that Norwegian Ridgeback."

Harry's breath caught in her throat. The reply she meant to give didn't leave her trembling lips and a small whimper took its place.

"Mate?" said Ron. He tilted is head in curiosity.

The Weasley boys watched as Harry whipped around at the sound. Then the most curious thing happened.

Inexplicably, Harry flushed, a pink that washed over soft cheeks in a way they wouldn't have expected to look so appealing. Already distracting green eyes enlarged and glazed over in a way that put them in the mind of startled fawn. Most inconceivably of all, hands flew up to clutch at the collar of the too-big white hoodie and hips shifted ever so slightly in a way that changed Harry's posture completely. Before they could question what happened, Harry Potter turned from the young boy-hero best-mate of the youngest Weasley son into a flustered teenaged girl struck by her first crush.

No, no! This was Harry! Ron rubbed his eyes vigorously and looked again. The sight was the same; Harry stood almost swooning like the damsels from bedtime stories. But-but-but . . . what? No! Harry wasn't supposed to show up after a summer of zero contact looking as cute as any girl! What the hell was going on?! Had they hired a body double?

Harry suddenly hid her face in her hands. She peeked up once but flushed brightly again and ducked back down.

"Ron," Harry said, her voice muffled by her palms, the tone small and wobbly. "M-maybe we should go to your room now."

"Not looking like that you won't!" said Sirius, flashing out an arm and pulling Harry back to him. He wrapped his arms around his godchild and glared suspiciously around the kitchen at the redheaded boys. "You're not leaving my sight with anyone besides Remus until you stop looking so cute!"

"Sirius!" Harry cried, embarrassed. "Remus, make him stop!"

Remus was just as bewildered as anyone else but still complied. He sighed and did his best to wrench Harry out of Sirius' iron grasps despite the other man's protests. "Really, Sirius, do you have to make a scene?"

"He just suggested going up to a boy's room while looking like a virgin offering up their chastity as a sacrifice!" cried Sirius. Blushes abounded at his words. "No! He's too young! I won't allow it!"

Harry was on the verge of fainting with mortification. "Sirius!" She flailed and accidentally nailed him in his bits. Sirius released his grip with a choked yelp and only barely managed to keep his feet.

Harry stumbled but regained her feet quickly before hovering in concern of the man she had just kneed.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" Goodness! She hadn't been this flustered or worked up since before third year! Where had her usual cool gone? As Harry hovered frantically, the Weasley boys roared in laughter.

"Goodness, what's all this commotion about?"

Mrs. Weasley had entered the kitchen. She was a short, plump woman with a very kind face, though her brows were currently raised in question.

"Oh, hello, dears," Mrs. Weasley said as she spotted the three guests. She bustled over at the sight of Sirius huddled in pain. "Dear me! Sirius, whatever is the matter? And why are you lot laughing?" The last part was directed at her sons, tone sharp.

Two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs. Weasley. One, with very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, was Harry's and Ron's friend, Hermione. The other, who was small and red-haired, was Ron's younger sister, Ginny. Both of them smiled at Harry, who grinned back in relief of the distraction. Ginny went scarlet — she had been very taken with Harry ever since Harry's first visit to the Burrow.

"Not to worry, Molly," Sirius rasped, straightening. "Just a bump in an unpleasant place; no need to fuss."

Harry shuffled in place. She placed her hands on Sirius' forearm and said earnestly, "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to kick you!"

More guffaws from the peanut gallery.

Remus ruffled Harry's hair fondly as Sirius tried to brush the kneeing off. "I don't think anyone here will hold it against you, Harry."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" said Sirius, affecting a hurt tone.

"I mean that I've often wanted to give you a swift kick to where it hurts."

"None of that!" said Mrs. Weasley, waving a reprimanding finger. "There are children present!"

Said children were soon bustled out of the kitchen when Hermione brilliantly suggested helping Harry settle in.

"Leave the door open!" Sirius called after them, causing another flush to appear on Harry's face.

Harry couldn't look in Charlie's direction well into the next day. Even when they been awakened early to make it to the portkey in time, Harry was careful to not look at the him. Not that she made it obvious, of course, she just kept her attention on things that just happened to be completely un-associated with anything that might have anything to do with Charlie Weasley.

Harry's self-assigned task proved to be rather simple considering the scene Mrs. Weasley and the twins put on when they were about to leave. Something about the prank sweets Fred and George spent six months developing and how Mrs. Weasley was unhappy they spent all that time on jokes instead of their O.W.L.s. It was a bit of a spectacle and kept Harry's attention on the twins instead of Charlie.

The trek to the abandoned boot up on a hill was not something Harry would have called thrilling even though it did come with the fantastic scenery of the countryside.

"Say, S-S-Sirius," Harry yawned as they walked across a small creek. "Since Bill, Charlie, and Percy are Apparating there, we aren't we doing the same?"

Sirius looked up from where he had been staring off into the distance dreamily. "Why would you want to do that?"

A flat look was given in response. "So we could have had a bit of a lie-in? I'm fourteen, Sirius; teenagers need their sleep."

"Ah~ But isn't it more fun this way? Early morning fresh air, sunshine, and all these lovely trees!"

"You're ridiculous," Harry sighed, rubbing the side of her nose. "I don't understand what you're talking about. Sunshine and trees? The moon is still out and you can barely see the trees at all. With six people capable of Apparition and four passengers, there would've been no need to take a portkey at all. We would have saved ourselves the walk over."

"Eh? But the walk is half the fun!"

There was no reasoning with Sirius when he got it in his head that something would be 'fun.' Wonderful. Peachy. Harry loved to start every day with an hour long marathon over rivers and through the woods.

Truth be told, it wasn't the fact that it was a long walk that bothered her, but Harry was still terribly sleepy still and her wings ached to be let loose. She wanted to curl and up go back to sleep or fly to the World Cup, neither of which she could do. Let's not forget about the steepness of the hill they had to climb up either; Harry lost count of the hidden rabbit holes she stumbled in and the clumps of grass slicked with dew that she slipped on.

"Whew," panted Mr. Weasley as they reached the top of Stoatshead Hill. He took off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time — we've still got ten minutes . . ."

"Plenty of time to answer the call of nature then!" said Sirius cheerfully, trotting off to a wooded area.

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side. Harry hoisted Hermione over to where the rest of them were standing and gave the other girl a sympathetic pat on the shoulder when she leaned heavily against Harry's side.

"Still alive?" said Harry.

"I'm not quite sure," was Hermione's gasping response.

When the portkey was pointed out, there wasn't a more welcomed sight in the world.

Cedric Diggory and his father, Amos, had arrived at the portkey site before them. Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy in Fred and George's year. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Everybody exchanged pleasant greetings except Fred and George, who merely nodded because they hadn't yet quite forgiven Cedric for beating Gryffindor in the first Quidditch match of the previous year when the Dementors filled the Pitch.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked. He was a ruddy-faced wizard with a scraggly brown beard. Cedric must have gotten his looks from his mother.

"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still . . . not complaining . . . Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy." Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's — and Harry, another friend —"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Erm — yes, sir," said Harry.

Harry was used to people looking curiously at her when they met her, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on her forehead, but it always made her feel uncomfortable. It was one thing that they were excited to see her, it was quite another that they stared at her as if she were some new species of octopus.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year . . . I said to him, I said — Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will . . . You beat Harry Potter!"

Harry couldn't think of any reply to this that wouldn't be condescending or pandering, so she remained silent, a vague smile on her face as she canted her head to the side. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you . . . it was an accident . . ."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman . . . but the best man won; I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"What's this about flying?" said Sirius as he re-emerged from the trees. He sauntered up and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.

"Merciful Merlin!" exclaimed Mr. Diggory. "Sirius Black, is that you?"

"Good to see you again, Amos," Sirius replied genially. "Haven't see you since that stint with those hippogriff smugglers back when I was an Auror trainee. Have you met Remus yet?" He pulled Remus from where he had been milling in the background and all but tossed the werewolf at Mr. Diggory.

"Yes, it's been quite some time hasn't it?" replied Mr. Diggory vaguely as he made to shake hands with Remus. "Pleasure to meet you, my good man. Name's Amos Diggory."

Remus received the handshake gracefully. "Remus Lupin. The pleasure is mine, sir."

Mr. Diggory's eyebrows rose. "Lupin is it? Are you that werewolf Defense professor from last year?"

"Nearly time," said Mr. Weasley loudly, pulling out his watch again.

The crowd of them huddled up around the portkey posing as an old boot. Harry ending up standing next to Cedric. She was all but pushed up against him with how they were all squeezed together but Sirius soon pulled her into himself and gave the older boy a suspicious look.

Harry didn't have time to protest Sirius' over-protectiveness before they were yanked away in a howl of wind and swirling colours.

AN: Pairing development? Maaaaaaybe . . . Tell me your ships!