Chapter Text
Pristine white fences surrounded an ideal family home. A garden of trimmed bushes and flora of the brightest arrangements sprouting from the small gardens line the walkway to the house and the houses perimeters of the aforementioned fence. The house itself only raised to two levels and painted in whites and creamier browns to match the rest of the street. To the neighbors, nothing was odd or questioned. No one paid any attention to the bars on one of the windows, or the occasional overly loud yelp or scream. The family of three that claimed the house as theirs were well enough to those outside the walls of their home. They were revered as kind hearted when they had informed their neighbors that their nephew had taken to participating in 'criminal' activities and they volunteered to keep him. The noises were of disciplinary actions taken against the boy and the bars to keep him in the house.
No one bothered to get to know the bruised little teen, or to verify the Dursley's stories. Thus, the ending result being the small curled figure of a boy, only a year or so from being a adult, huddled for safety in the corner of his sparsely furnished room. His once light tan gone and in it's place porcelain skin of white. Well, it would have been white if not for the purples, blues, blacks, and yellows that made up his flesh. The remains of his clothes hung off his body in dirty tattered masses. Stained yellow with sweat, and crimson with blood that refused to clot after one of his many lashings. Unmanaged black locks splayed on the filthy floor he had laid himself on, as he struggled to fill his body with the much needed air in the room, despite how stifling and stale.
The sun was creeping down, and any miniscule light that penetrated the room was dying as well. Three days. That was how long his so called 'kind' caretakers had been gone with their whale of a son. A brief glance at any clock also revealed it to be only two hours till the boy would officially be allowed his magic outside of school. His body was twitching as he finally fought to sit himself up. Yet, pain racing through his body caused him to sprawl once more on the ruined wooden floorboards. Blackness seeped into already destroyed vision before the pain ebbed away along with his consciousness. Time ever so slowly was ticking away, along with the boys life.
A screeching static woke the boy as his digital clock struck midnight. Humor flashed through other wise dead eyes. He had failed. Yes, that damned snake of a man Voldemort had long since died, yet he himself died with no honor. He hadn't saved anyone or made anything of himself besides being the Savior of the wizarding world. He would die a sad excuse for a boy in muggle Surrey with nothing but his Aunt and Uncle's degrading stories to make a good image of his person, if you could call it good. The irony, he lived through the war against a all powerful wizarding mad man only to die because of neglect and abuse from a muggle.
Suddenly his stomach lurched, soon followed by his heart. The small breath in his lungs was forced from his body as an unbearable pain laced through his being. For the bloody better parts of hell, the poor boy could catch no break. He writhed in agony as his magic flared about his body, scorching the floor and singeing the wall. His screams went unnoticed by the neighbors, and once more he went spiralling into the ever darkened abyss of his own mind.
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Consciousness came unwelcomed as the boy whimpered with his waking. Burry eyed, the boy blindly felt about the floor for the glasses he was forced to wear. Shifting, he felt the bridge hit his nose, and a frown stretched across his usually delicate face. White, almost luminescent hands pulled them from his face. Emerald eyes blinked with the clarity. He could see. He focused on the glasses in his hands in horror, his body jolting into a sitting position despite the pain it caused. The fact that he could now see without his glasses was a miracle that he greatly welcomed, but the pearl colored scales that covered his skin, weaving in a odd beautiful pattern were most definatly not welcomed.
With a grunt of discomfort, he pulled himself to his feet, hissing as the light from his window hit his eyes. That genuinly hurt...more than it should. Blinking away the white spots, the teen trudged to the door, pulling at the handle. The wood groaned, and he let out a sigh. He really wanted to go to the bathroom. With that thought in mind he opened his eyes, that he wasn't even aware he had closed, only to gasp in surprise. The fluffy bathroom rug under his feet and the dark but clear reflection of his body in the mirror told him that he had, accedentally of course, apperated into the Dursley's bathroom. His hand ran over the wall, trying to find the switch that would illuminate the small room. He closed his eyes in preparation for the light.
Flickering, showing the need for a new bulb, the light began to emit a dull glow. Gem like eyes opened to take in the now clear image before him in shock and awe. Pearly scales with silver tinges decorated the arch of his forehead and the curve of his cheeks before running down the sides of his neck onto his shoulders where it then broke off into two trails, one going over his shoulders onto his arms and hands, and the other curving to the back of his neck to meet the matching pattern of the opposite side. His usually untamable locks were still messy, but held more length and volume. Any coloring and muscle he gained over the summer gone. His hips, if possible, seemed wider and, dare he think it, feminine.
The most striking changes were to his face. Green eyes lost their round pupils in order to give way to a now elongated slit like pupils instead. Thin masculine lips gone to be replaced with softer, plush ones. How awful! He looked at the mirror as if it had done one of the worst evils before his expression became...curious.The baggy shirt and shorts hid any other changes and he wondered, did he have anything else that was new? Something told him that yes he did, and it wasn't very comforting.With ease Harry hooked the waist band of his shorts to pull them away from his body. He sighed in releaf at the sight of his normal man hood, unchanged. Yet, something compelled him to look further.
The shorts soon pooled around his ankles as he looked over his lower half, sitting on the toilet lid. A gentle hand prodded at the flacid length, and slipped to check for anything else and there it was. Had the fear of being heard not over powered him, the young wizard would have screamed in horror at the thought that there was an opening similar to a females just behind his normal parts. He was no longer just a he...no he turned into a it. A hermaphrodite.