Green & Gray

If Only.

Harry Potter

"HARRIET!" Petunia screamed from the kitchen. I shot up so fast that I bumped my head on the top of the cupboard that had become my home once again. I hated the cramped space far more than the room I had for 4 years. 

Already 16 for almost a month, I was much too tall to properly stretch out in the cupboard. I was back in here because Dudley outed me. 

He found out years ago when he saw me standing in front of my mirror when I tried on my binder for the first time. He's been using this information to force me to do things for years.

His summer homework.

'Chores'.

Be his punching bag for him and all of his stupid friends.

But that all ended yesterday when Dudley nearly beat a 10 year-old-boy to death. The boy's father appeared, pulled Dudley off his son,  and marched him up to 4 Privet Drive.

"Vernon!" a large round man bellowed, purple in the face and dragging Dudley behind him by the scruff of the neck.

Vernon started, and Petunia dropped something in the kitchen. I heard the commotion from upstairs and crept to the top of the landing.

"Gary? What is it?" Vernon asked wearily, setting down the evening paper.

"Your bully of a son!" he cried, shaking Dudley. "He beat up my son so badly that he's barely breathing! I left my wife crying over his body and phoning the police!"

Vernon blanched.

"MY 10-YEAR-OLD-SON! BEATEN HALF TO DEATH BY A TEENAGER! TEACH HIM TO PICK FIGHTS WITH PEOPLE HIS OWN SIZE!" he screamed. Gary threw Dudley into the living room and stalked out of the house.

"Dudley." the word came out of Vernon's mouth in a deadly sneer he had only ever used against me. My mouth fell open. "Gary, the man who was just here was just about to invest in a new drill, but you and your idiocy just lost this family a summer vacation."

Snarling, he approached Dudley with shaking fists. The fear in Dudley's face. He had never had to be scared of Vernon. To save his skin, he used the only leverage he had. 

He pointed over Vernon's shoulder at me on the stairs.

"H-harriet! She thinks she's a boy! I saw her wearing a binder!" Dudley squeaked.

It was my turn to blanch. The silence that followed was deafening.

I've been a boy since I was 11. Since I lived at the Dursleys and had no contact with the wizarding community, when I  came to Hogwarts, no one knew that I was actually a girl at birth except Sirius and Lupin, of course, and was known as the child-who-lived until I appeared at Hogwarts. 

When I realized Professor Mcgonagall was calling names, I told her that my name is Harry, not Harriet. She nodded curtly and told the other teachers. 

From then on, I was Harry James Potter, the boy-who-lived.

Vernon turned on me slowly, his beady eyes flashing dangerously.

"Harriet Lily Potter," Vernon snarled. "You are a girl. NOT a boy. I don't care what you think you are, YOU are nothing but a freak girl."  Just then, I remembered how the neighbors goggled when I had cut my hair short the June before my eleventh birthday, stealing money from my 'family' to buy a binder.

"It's Harry," I said in a small voice, still at the top of the staircase. 

"What? Speak up, you depraved child." Vernon bellowed.

"My name is Harry James Potter. I am a proud -bisexual BOY. A wizard. The BOY. WHO. LIVED." I said in a loud clear voice. I don't know what passed me to inform the Dursleys of my sexuality, but I did.

He roared in disgust and sped up the stairs at me.

He dragged me down the stairs, then tossed me into the cupboard, taking care to knock me out on the edge of the doorframe.

"HARRIET!" Petunia screamed again, now right outside the cupboard. I started, pulled on my oversized green hoodie, and scrambled out into the hall. I ducked under her arm as she made a quick grab for me and got to work.

10 minutes later, breakfast and coffee were made for the Dursleys. I was allowed a slice of buttered toast and a thermos of coffee. 

Breakfast was a silent affair. I ate quietly, sitting at the table. Suddenly, the mail was dropped into the hall. I got up, and grabbed the mail, passing the envelopes to Vernon. I put my plate in the sink and made up my mind on the spot.

"I'm leaving," I said in a clear voice. "I'm getting my trunk and going." They said nothing. I rolled my eyes, and ran up the stairs, grabbing my already packed trunk,  Hedwig, and, for some reason, the two old iPhones of Dudley's that he had 'lost'.

I pulled my trunk with one hand and held Hedwig's cage with the other.

I slammed the front door behind me, then opened her cage.

She hooted as if in question.

"Hedwig, fly to the burrow with this note then stay there," tying a short letter to Mrs. Weasely to Hedwig's leg. She nipped me affectionately, then flew off.

I sighed as I watched her fly away.

"Fuck the Dursleys," I muttered darkly, trudging down Privet drive. Walking until neighbors were out of sight. In an alley, I finally flagged down the knight bus.

⚡⚡⚡

Draco Malfoy

"Draco!" my mother sang from the kitchen. I rolled over on my bed. I dog-eared the book I was reading and slunk down the stairs.

"Mum?" I mumbled from the doorway. I pushed my hair away from my face. It had got pretty long over the summer, half-way down my neck. I pulled a hair tie off my arm and scooped my hair into a bun. She looked at me with a flash of disapproval.

"Draco, sweetie, you should cut your hair. It's getting too long," she simpered, craning her neck to see the back of my head.

"Mum, I'm not cutting it. What do you need?" I asked, my voice brimming with exasperation.

"Yes! Um, Draco, It's the 31st, and I need you to pack your trunk." She said, turning back to the carrots she was chopping. "And, your father wants to talk to you. He's in the study," she said with a tone of false airiness. I winced and turned on the spot. I marched out toward the study and slid inside the room.

"Dad?" I asked as I shut the door. He looked toward me, his long white-blonde hair in a ponytail. I rolled my eyes.

Mom can be such a hypocrite.

"Ah, Draco. We'll be dropping you off at Kings Cross tomorrow. The dark lord will probably be by tonight," he said, looking back down at his papers. I gave an involuntary shudder, that my father caught. "Stay in your room then if you don't have the stomach for it then," he scoffed, pointing at the door through which I had just come.

"Sir," I murmured, slipping silently back into the hall.

I escaped upstairs back to my room, not even bothering to look at my mother as I passed the kitchen.

I slammed the door, anger that hadn't been there seconds before suddenly flaring up. I flopped back on my bed, having a mini tantrum into a nearby pillow.  I threw the pillow across the room, and a picture fell out. I flushed and grabbed the picture. I looked down and saw the picture of Harry sleeping on the grounds of Hogwarts last year. His black hair was half-covering his caramel face, revealing a white scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. He was wearing a green hoodie that matched his eyes exactly (courtesy of Hermione), and his glasses lay beside him.

I smiled despite myself, wondering what life would be like if only I could have what I wanted.