Sorry! Sorry! I meant to have this up yesterday but I didn't realize it was Monday!
Welcome to Jade Green Eyes. I got the idea for this story after reading Harry Potter and the Daughter of Malfoy years ago. I have no idea *why* it caused this idea to come into my head, but it did to such an extent that I wrote a part a day for the first month, then did a part every two days for the rest of it. I've never written like that before or since. This story is finished on my yahoogroup, Jendrafic, at 80 parts (in 20 part chunks). I will be posting it in more than one part at a time, but how much depends on where I think it ends well.
Warnings – you should have already read this, but I'm saying it again. This fic will contain crossdressing. It will also contain Harry/Lucius slash. It will *not* contain graphic sex scenes, even though it is marked M. If you want to read that you have to go to my yahoogroup. There will be Dumble bashing and obsessive!Ginny. There will be father/mentor Severus and best friend!Draco.
This is the sequel to Mythic Alliance but was written first, so some things don't quite match up. I will be working on that and trying to get them more in line with each other. Someone had just pointed out a few items that were left out and I'm deciding if I want to add them or not. So there *will* be slight differences between this one and the complete one, occasionally. I will update the one on my list, if necessary, every twenty parts, so I can update only one section at a time.
If you think you've seen this before, that is because it was plagiarized on this site a few months ago. It has thankfully been removed since that time.
I do not own Harry Potter. Really, I don't. I don't make any money off of my use of Harry Potter or any of his friends.
Reviews are welcome, flames are not.
Jade Green Eyes
A young witch strolled down the middle of Diagon Alley. Her long black hair floated around her shoulders and her bright green eyes danced with delight. About sixteen years of age, small and slender, she window shopped happily, ignoring the teenaged, and sometimes older, boys who were watching her lustfully.
Many sighs were given as her entire face lit up and she started running towards someone. The sighs of longing turned to ones of disappointment as those watching saw her run up and grab the arm of a blond teenaged wizard. Especially considering just *who* the blonde was.
"Drake!" she squealed, albeit quietly.
Draco Malfoy glared at the barnacle on his arm as he tried to figure out who it was. Another groupie, no doubt, but this one didn't look familiar and wasn't at all unsettled by the fact she was grabbing the scion of one of the richest, most important and most dangerous of the wizarding families of Britain. Ever since he and his father had helped Potter defeat Voldemort, he'd had to put up with random attacks of giggling girls convinced that since he was on the side of 'Good' he couldn't possibly be as bad as people had said. He enjoyed showing them differently. By now, over six months since the Dark Lord's defeat, most had gotten the message and would leave him alone. This one however...
"Don't you recognize me Drake?" the girl asked, smiling up at him.
Draco took a long look at the witch on his arm. She was at least half a foot smaller than his own 5' 10", slender but lithe with long, wavy black hair and green eyes. Jade green eyes. Familiar jade green eyes. And just how many people called him Drake, anyway? He looked at the top of her forehead, but there was nothing there. Still, another look at the laughing green eyes and the smile he'd seen only a couple of times before, solidified the amazing thought. "Harry?" he wanted to shout, but whispered instead.
"Yes, Drake?" the black haired youth grinned back at him.
"How... why?" For once the young Slytherin was at a loss for words.
"Who's your companion, Draco?" a smooth voice interrupted. The twosome turned quickly, gazing into the visage of Lucius Malfoy.
"Father," Draco said hesitatingly. "This is... um..."
"Jade, Mr. Malfoy," the witch, who was a wizard, smiled brightly.
Lucius Malfoy swept a gaze over the girl in front of him. The green silk shirt she was wearing was only a shade darker than her brilliant green eyes, while the black, knee length skirt had the color, but none of the luster of her hair. Black, high heeled ankle boots added at least an inch to her height, while the discreet jewelry and make up added a touch more sophistication. He had to admit the clothes were simple, tasteful and elegant even if they were Muggle. The only wizarding touch was the cloak clasped at her neck and swirling down only slightly past the end of her skirt. He took another moment to look at her face, high cheekbones and a determined chin backed up a look in her eyes that said she was no one to be messed with. Her features were too strong to be conventionally pretty, instead she had a beauty that would last as she grew older, with no glamour spells required. He could see what his son might see in her, if he was interested in that gender he might make a try for her himself. Time to find out more about this possible future daughter-in-law.
"I don't believe I've met you before, and I know Draco hasn't mentioned you. Do I know your family?" he asked smoothly.
She grinned cheekily at him. "Of course we've met before Mr. Malfoy, and I'm sure that Drake here has mentioned me at least a time or two, haven't you?"
Draco nodded, starting to enjoy this surreal event. "Of course I have," he agreed. "Times too numerous to mention in fact."
"Really, Mr. Malfoy, trying to get your son in trouble like that," she shook her head. "Come on, Drake, you can buy me an ice cream and I'll tell you what's been going on this summer." With that the witch, or was it wizard? grabbed the still bewildered boy by the arm and dragged him off into the depths of Diagon Alley.
Draco waited until they were sitting at an out of the way table with their ice cream concoctions before he struck. "So, Har..." A glare from his companion made him hastily close his mouth before he started again. "So, *Jade*, I didn't realize my turning you down would have such an impact. Really, turning yourself into a girl just because I happen to prefer them wasn't necessary."
Harry's husky laughter turned heads all over the store. Draco's glare turned them all back to their own businesses. "Really, Drake," Harry shook his head in exasperation. "Not everything has to do with you or with magic, you know. I didn't *turn* myself into a girl, I'm just dressing like one. As for dating you, only in your dreams. Now your father..." Harry let his voice trail off and put an exaggerated moonstruck look on his face. Not that he *didn't* think about Lucius Malfoy like that. The older man was gorgeous, sexy, powerful and dangerous; all good things as far as he was concerned. There was no way most of the boys his age were interesting enough for him, beyond their age and school, they had nothing in common with him. They didn't understand the pain he'd gone through. They never would.
Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, did have the capacity to understand him and empathize with his life. He knew the darkness intimately, yet it hadn't truly tainted him as it had others, such as Voldemort. Draco might have been a good boyfriend if he hadn't been straight, but the other boys at Hogwarts... forget it. Of course, Harry also had to admit that he just preferred older men, though he refused to even think about it as a daddy complex; boys were just too immature for him.
Draco glared at him. "I am not calling you Mom."
Harry laughed again. "Don't worry, son. I don't think it's very likely."
"Now I didn't say that," Draco grinned. "The only reason Father and Mother married was to get an heir; you're much more his type than she was. I've known about his male lovers for years."
Harry's eyes darkened. "Oh, really?" he purred.
Draco found himself shifting in his chair. He might *know* that Harry was a guy, but he was *looking* at a girl and with that voice... He shook his head to clear his mind. He *wasn't* going to go there. "You never did explain why you're dressed as a girl, *Jade*. Not to mention how you're pulling it off so well."
Harry finished the last of his ice cream and settled back in his chair. "What do you notice?" he asked, pointing to the people around him.
Draco ostentatiously took a look around. "Guys think you're hot? But I didn't think you were *that* hard up for dates."
Harry glared. "Do you, by any chance, remember the last time I was in Hogsmeade?"
Draco lowered his eyes to the table. He did. Everyone did. If he thought his fame was a little difficult to handle sometimes, it was nothing, absolutely *nothing* compared to that of The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-Kill-Voldemort. The last time Harry had dared to show his face in the wizarding world, there had been a riot. Everyone wanted to see him, talk to him, *touch* him. A
number of people had gotten trampled in the rush, and Harry himself had been sent to the hospital with numerous bruises and scratches.
Draco looked at the boy dressed as a girl sitting across from him and understood. He had seen the devastation in Harry's eyes after that incident, the knowledge that he would never be left alone by the world he had saved, that others would *still* be getting hurt because of him. It had come very close to breaking him. Now, however, the eyes looking back at him were different. Bright, happy. He'd found a way to hide, without having to isolate himself from a world he loved. Draco smiled. "I understand."
A moment of silence passed between the two. "How did it come about?"
Harry smiled. "This year..." he shook his head with a smile. "Thanks to Severus' advice, this year went so much better."
"I don't want to have to see your face this summer. And that hair is going to be coming off. Only sissy boys wear their hair that long. Are you a sissy boy?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Why couldn't you have stayed at that freak school of yours?" Vernon grumbled as he got out of the car.
"I asked, but they said no. And I like my hair." Harry answered. "But, I don't have to stay at the house all day anymore. I'll make a deal with you, Uncle Vernon. Let me have the room I've been in to get my mail, lock it from the outside and keep it that way, though I will take the bars off, and you won't see me all summer. No one will ever see me go into or out of the house and no one in the house will have to deal with me, at all. I will also make sure none of my friends show up at the house."
"There won't be any of those freaks in my house!" Vernon roared.
"The evil wizard who'd been trying to kill me is dead." Harry's voice was hard, and looking at him Vernon found himself suddenly, slightly, worried. His meek little freak of a servant had suddenly been replaced by a dangerous young wizard. "That means that I don't have to worry about my friends leading Voldemort to me, so there's nothing keeping them away. Either you agree to let me go my own way and never have to deal with me, or I won't send my friends notes."
"You won't send them letters? Why should I be afraid of that?" Vernon glared.
After getting used to Severus Snape's glares, Vernon's didn't even rate a wince. "Simple, uncle. I told all of my friends that there was going to be a big party here, at your house, in a week. If you don't do it my way, I won't write the notes to cancel it. Just imagine, thirty or more, teenaged wizards and witches, here, at your house." Harry smirked.
By this time they were inside the house. Vernon grabbed the young boy and shook him. "Don't you threaten me! There will be no freaks in this house! I won't stand for it! You write those letters, and you do it now, then it'll be into the cupboard for the rest of the summer!"
"If you don't agree, I've got some more people I can invite, you know. After all, it had been only my year and a few select others, but there are six more years worth of students at Hogwarts. And I will not cancel it unless I get that room, got it?"
"Oh, you'll get your room," Vernon growled. "But you can forget about getting the bars off, or about coming out... ever!"
He dragged Harry up to the spare room and threw him in, locking all of the deadbolts and padlocks behind him before rushing off to get more. No way would that freak get out. While he was at it, he'd get some more locks for the front door. Have those abnormal people come to *his* completely normal house? Not if he had anything to say about it.
Left behind in the room, Harry smiled. It might not have seemed like it, but he got everything he wanted, and just because he actually, for once, put some thought into it first... with a little help. It might be illegal for underage wizards to do magic, but not for them to have magic things. As long as Muggles didn't see them, enchanted objects were fine and he'd packed a number.
First he placed a magical lock on the inside of the door that only he could open. With it on, it wasn't even possible to break down the door. That would keep others from coming into the room. Another trip to the trunk and he came back with an EverSharp knife, the kind that would cut through anything except flesh. It took only moments to slice through the bars at the windows. While Vernon pounded at the door, Harry grabbed several more items and got ready to go. He got on his broom, covered himself with his Invisibility Cloak and headed out the window, stopping only to cover it with another version of lock. This one would make sure that no one except him could get in the window. With that all done, he headed out on his own for the first time.
Finding an out of the way alley near what looked like some good clothing stores, he set down. The broom and cloak went into a small bag that automatically shrank anything put into it. Making sure he had the Muggle money he had Hermione get exchanged at Gringotts for him, he looked down at his scruffy clothes and headed for the stores.
Harry wandered slowly through the racks of clothes, occasionally touching one, or pulling something down to look at it. Now that he could buy his own clothes, finally get something
that fit and felt good, he couldn't decide what to get. He didn't really want to go overboard, but nothing seemed quite right.
"Can I help you?" The words from behind sent him spinning around defensively.
It had been six months since he, Draco, Severus and Lucius had come up with the plan that got rid of Voldemort. Everyone else might have been expecting a big war with lots of casualties but with three and a half Slytherins working on it, cunning was the order of the day. Maybe what was in effect an assassination wasn't what people were expecting of the Golden Boy of Hogwarts, but it worked. And thanks to Lucius and Severus' work behind the scenes, most of the Death Eaters had quietly faded into the background. As Severus had once put it: "Think about those of us who are Voldemort's inner circle, me, Lucius, Wormtail, Nott and MacNair. When Voldemort came to power 20 years ago, we were teenagers. We might have said that we joined because we hated Muggles, or wanted to learn things that were forbidden, but the fact is, we were teenagers and we were rebelling, and since we were teenagers we were rebelling in the biggest possible way. By the time we realized we were wrong, we'd already signed away our souls. Most of us have grown up since then. Given a choice of getting out without having to worry about either Voldemort or the Ministry, most will take it. Not everyone, because some are fools, but most Death Eaters are simply too fearful of the Dark Lord not to show up and follow his orders. Kill him and they'll go back to their lives without even considering getting revenge. Most would probably even thank whoever did it." Severus had been right, as usual.
Harry shook the memories out of his head and looked at the person who was waiting patiently for an answer. Standing there was a salesperson in her late teens or early twenties with 'Jeri' written on her nametag. About 5' 7", brown hair in a cute pageboy type style, blue eyes a little worried, though a smile curled the corner of her mouth. Harry found himself smiling back.
"I've finally come into some of my parents' money, which means I don't have to wear my cousin's hand-me-downs anymore," he scowled down at his clothes. "But I'm not sure what to get."
The worry left the saleslady's eyes. This wasn't a homeless person trying to steal something as some of the other salespeople had thought. It was just a teen allowed to make his own choices for the first time and a little overwhelmed with all the possibilities. "Well, what do you want out of your clothes? Do you want to look sophisticated, dangerous, normal or whatever?"
Harry thought for a long moment, looking around. "I want... clothes that feel good, not scratchy or overlarge, like these. I want to look nice... but I don't want to look like me."
"You don't want to look like you? That's a little unusual, most people like buying clothes to make themselves look like themselves, if you know what I mean." She looked a little closer at him. "Do you not want to be you?"
Harry shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I don't mind being me, I just wish that other people didn't know I was me."
"I don't understand," Jeri said softly.
Harry sighed. "My name's Harry Potter. I know that doesn't mean anything to you, but"
Jeri held up her hand. "Actually, it does. My last boyfriend was part of your group so I've heard about you. More than I wanted, if you don't mind me being truthful."
Harry chuckled. "Not at all. More than I wanted too. But you see what I mean?"
"Yep. So you want something that feels good, looks good, but doesn't make you look like Harry Potter, right?"
Over the next three hours, the two became good friends. They found clothes that he liked that would work for school, silks, cashmeres and light cottons, tailored and soft; but couldn't agree on a type of clothes that would adequately disguise him for the summer or on shopping trips. He needed something that would be distracting enough that people would look at his clothes, and not at his face. Goth or punk might have worked but not only were they not something that Harry cared for, not being nice enough fabrics for one thing, but he also didn't want to deal with more people fearing he was going to become the next Dark Lord if he did start dressing like that. And it would happen. People had proven they were too fickle when it came to him for it not to.
Finally Jeri sat Harry down and stood looking at him. "I want to try something, do you trust me?"
Harry watched her for a long moment. "When it comes to clothes at least," he grinned slightly.
"This is going to seem a little strange, but you've got the body for it. Just try it okay?"
"Are you going to tell me what 'it' is?" Harry asked.
She shook her head. "Go into the dressing room, I'll bring it to you there. Just... keep an open mind, okay?"
Harry's curiosity was fully engaged. His curiosity always had been his weak point. Without another word, he went back to the dressing room and stripped down to his underwear. He had gotten over being embarrassed at changing in front of Jeri in the first hour.
When Jeri entered the dressing room, Harry just stared. Before he could open his mouth, she raised her hand. "You promised to trust me and try, remember?"
"Harry, do you like the way I look?" Jeri asked.
"Well, yeah, you've got good taste," Harry admitted.
"I'm a guy," she... he admitted. "My name *is* Jeri, but it's J E R R Y. My boss just prefers I spell it like this so I don't freak out the customers."
Harry looked her... him over closely. He still couldn't see anything that would give a hint that this wasn't a 100% woman in front of him. "I thought cross dressers were all..." he hesitated, "you know."
"You mean like drag queens? Those are just the ones you see on TV, the ones that get attention. There are a lot, just like me, that just like to dress like women. I don't have any interest in actually *being* a woman. I don't want to get an operation or anything. I just prefer wearing these kinds of clothes. For the most part, women's clothes are prettier and feel nicer than men's."
Harry thought that over. "Isn't that lying though?"
"How so?" Jeri/Jerry asked. "I don't actually tell anyone that I'm a female. The assumptions they make are just that... assumptions. And you know what people say about assumptions." While she talked she had moved forward and slid a white peasant blouse over his head. "It is better to let people assume, though. Although for the most part, men will treat you nicer if they think you're a girl, if they find out differently, they can get very mad." She switched topics. "If you do find you like this, I'd suggest either a padded bra or a special prosthetic that you can buy. Though there might be something better among your group."
"I wouldn't have a clue who to ask," Harry admitted as he let her... him pull a skirt a few shades darker than tan down over his hips. He also decided to continue thinking of her... him as Jeri, a girl. That was what she looked like after all, and it'd be easier on his overloaded brain. A leather belt and brown sandals completed the clothes part of the transformation at which time Jeri pulled out a make-up case.
Harry backed up. "I don't know..."
"Oh come on, we've gone this far," Jeri wheedled. "Besides, the thing make-up is best for, is cover ups. Not just of unsightly blemishes, but scars as well."
That silenced Harry and he sat patiently as Jeri worked on his face. Some quick work with a brush and she finally allowed him to stand up and took him out to look at himself in the trifold
mirrors just outside the dressing room.
And stared some more.
Slowly, he turned around, and watched in disbelief as the girl in the mirror did as well.
Yes, the girl was a little flat chested, but that was the only sign that the person in the mirror might not be the girl he looked like. He held up his bangs. There was no sign that a scar resided on his forehead. That was perhaps the biggest miracle of all.
Jeri walked around him, nodding approvingly. "The only real problem is the hair on your legs. And if you do decide to do this, you'll need special underwear."
"I don't want big breasts," Harry said, not realizing what his words implied.
Jeri let it go. "Of course not. With your build and as small as you are you could easily make do with A cups. Much bigger and you'd just look top heavy. Not only would they look fake, you'd also get a lot of offers I don't think you want. Why guys seem to think a woman with big breasts automatically wants sex or is a slut, I don't know."
"Also, just in case you were wondering, cross dressing does not imply that you're gay. I don't remember the numbers, but I do remember reading once that there are many straight people
that like to cross dress as well."
Harry grinned. "That's not a problem, I've known I prefer guys for almost a year." He looked at himself once more. "I don't know if I can do this."
"Just try. You're not afraid, are you?" Jeri smirked.
Harry smirked right back, and he had had an expert to learn from. "I haven't been goaded into something like that since Draco dared me to try and turn one of my professor's hair red and gold."
"Did you?" Jeri grinned.
"Of course I did, ended up in detention for a month for it, and he got it turned back before anyone else saw it, but I managed to do it."
"You can do this too."
"But do I want to? This could... will... change everything."
"Only if you like it." Jeri made him face the mirror and stood behind him. "What do you see?"
"Two pretty girls," Harry whispered.
"And how do you feel?"
Harry took a long look into his eyes brightened by eyeshadow. "I... I don't know."