Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and associates, of whom I am not one. This is a rewrite of a fic from 4 years ago.
Warnings: AU, mentions of child abuse, ongoing theme of drug abuse, some character bashing (but only such that it follows canon and canon trends), spoilers through Deathly Hallows, coarse language, some minor OCs.
Chapter 1: A Leap of Faith
Hadley Potter knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that what her "family" did to her was wrong.
She'd seen once, on the telly, there was a program that included someone being beaten, and psychologists talking about how sometimes victims of abuse didn't think of it as abuse. They thought they deserved it, that things like that ought to happen to them. In the show it had been a wife beaten by her husband.
Hadley was too young to have a husband, but her aunt, uncle, and cousin did well enough to match the beating from the telly. Granted, they were more subtle in their abuse, and only Dudley ever hit her – though he stopped this summer since she started to "develop" and bruises on a young woman were more suspicious than on a waif of a girl who was more often than not mistaken for a boy.
As it was, it was only at Hogwarts that she had a long enough break from her aunt's constant cutting that her hair could grow out to a more feminine shoulder length, a bit longer each year after, and her aunt couldn't cut it after her return from school or else the neighbors would notice. Her jet black hair didn't stick up as much this way, and even hid "that atrocious scar" her aunt always wanted her to be rid of, but that first summer back from Hogwarts had involved a lot hair pulling and snide remarks. She felt it was worth it, compared to the Sorting when there had been whispers of surprise that the Girl Who Lived would look like a boy.
Well, even now her figure was fairly boyish, too lean and barely developed when other girls her year were already as shapely as they would ever be. Still, it was enough to mark a bit of a difference.
Generally speaking, her abuse was more subtle than outright violence. Her aunt drove her into the ground with chores it sometimes felt like. It wasn't an insurmountable task that Aunt Petunia presented her with each morning, but it sometimes felt like it. Especially the cooking. Hadley hated the cooking, how it made her stomach growl ravenously as she made a feast at every meal only to be given a plate of toast or a sandwich, or whatever of the foods were the most bland or least desired by her family. This meant that at dinners she would often receive only mash or only vegetables, or nothing at all if neither were on the menu that night.
Thankfully, Aunt Petunia didn't trust her with certain things – she wasn't to polish the silver or wash the glass or touch anyone's laundry, the latter for fear she might be some foul pervert and want Dudley's skidmarked pants she supposed. No, Hadley only did the chores Petunia didn't want to do, hoovering, weeding, anything that might be deemed manual labor.
The time between summers, spent at the magical school known as Hogwarts, both gave her the chance to catch up on her nutrition and softened her body from the labors she was otherwise subjected to.
Uncle Vernon's torture was worst, she thought. When she was young it had just been shouting, and if she did something "freakish" he would box her ears or some such, which was alright enough. In later years of Primary school, he made her repeat the insults to him word for word, that she call herself freak, her mother a whore, her father a drunk. He made her make herself feel worthless, taking the work out of his hands. When she started Hogwarts, Vernon made her recite how evil magic was, how terrible she was for forcing her freakish world on them, how she wasn't worthy of their help, food, and shelter, how she was only alive out of their mercy.
Lately had been the worst, she felt. That summer Hadley could swear she felt his eyes on her, in places she would very much rather they were not.
No, Hadley knew she was abused, she knew her abusers, and she knew, without any shadow of a doubt, that she did not deserve any of this. She didn't deserve her parents to be dead either, or the scar on her brow, but least of all did she deserve the hatred of the only people in the world she had to call family.
It was only by sheer luck that day that Hadley didn't have some unlimited number of chores to do. The garden was weeded, the bushes trimmed, the kitchen spotless, an easier task than the previous year now that meals were strictly regulated for Dudley's diet. Petunia couldn't think of anything that wouldn't be a waste of her cleaning supplies and had instead told Hadley to get out of the house and out of her hair until dinner time.
And so it was, on a rather cool summer's day not long after her fourteenth birthday, that Hadley found herself at one of her few childhood safe havens. The park was always well populated in summer time, especially on weekends. There were always children around, and parents. It was the one place in the world she knew Dudley couldn't get away with bothering her. And oh, did he bother her when he could; he may not hit her anymore, but "playfully shoving" his cousin wasn't suspect, and one did not have to get physical to bother.
There weren't many children out today, at least not at the park, which could be expected for a Tuesday. There were a handful playing tag on the play structure, their mothers keeping an eagle eye on them, and a couple of girls a bit younger than Hadley sitting with a teen magazine over at the tree-line, but otherwise the only person past puberty and apparently not watching children was a black-haired man sitting on a bench with a book.
The swings were free, the children content with their game of Lava Monster by the slides, and Hadley seated herself on them with little bother for grace.
In primary school, Hadley never got to sit on the swings, because either bigger kids or Dudley's goons would take the entire set before she could even try them. She had wondered, for what seemed eternity, what it would be like to fly through the air with her hair streaming behind her and the earth far beneath her feet. As a witch, and one with a top-of-the-line flying broomstick, she knew better than she'd ever dreamed in her childhood just how wonderful that was.
Still, there was something nice about the simple back and forth of a swing, her feet skidding through the worn patch in the grass below her, and the sun broke through for a bit to give some warmth before the clouds stole it away again.
All in all, Hadley could call this the best day of summer yet.
Or so she would if a hard shove didn't send her back to earth, and rather more literally than she might have liked.
After hitting the dirt, Hadley rolled onto her side and winced. Dudley was standing over her, fat sagging everywhere, as he spoke in a tone of voice he had apparently perfected at Smeltings, though he had started using it the summer before starting at his prestigious public school. It was a small saving grace every time the swing made its jolting twist-swing over her head, since it saved her the sight of his fat rolls seen below the shirt.
"Oh, are you okay Hadley?" His face was much meaner than his voice, piggy eyes showing his small triumph at knocking her down. "I was just going to give you a push. But I'm a growing boy, I guess I don't know my own strength!" Hadley had always stood by the idea that her cousin was a stupid pig, but it was times like this that she was reminded even trolls like Crabbe and Goyle were sly and ambitious enough for Slytherin.
Oh yes, Hadley was certain her dear cousin would be perfect for that house, if one ignored the fact that, even if he did have magic, he would be muggleborn. Halfbloods barely managed to survive that house, let alone "mudbloods".
"I'm fine Dudley, thanks for your concern," Hadley pulled herself to her feet using the chain of the slowly twisting swing, ignoring the pudgy hand outstretched to "help" her; it was more likely to pull too hard and send her head first into the support beams for the set. No, Hadley was quite capable of standing on her own two feet, thank you very much.
She started edging away, hoping to make a run for the tree line and escape. In Dudley's current shape he probably couldn't do more than waddle past three paces, she could escape easily once out of arm's reach.
"Come on, let me give you a hug to say sorry," Dudley's face was schooled, though poorly, and Hadley had little doubt that any hug from him would leave bruising, and maybe a cracked rib or three.
With him advancing, she booked it toward the trees, frizzy black hair doing its level best to obscure her vision as she ran. Dudley's steps were barely audible on the dirt behind her, but heavy and plodding. In a minute she knew she could be far enough away to safely walk in a large circle back home when she wanted to, but for now she was safe in the knowledge she was out of harm's way. No way would Dudley bother going into the wooded part of the park after her, he wasn't quite so dumb as that. He may live to torment her, but he was lazier than Ron on a sunny day with school work to not do.
No, no matter how much she always considered him a dumb pig, Dudley wasn't that stupid, but certainly that mean.
So she continued walking, into a different section of the small plot of land that held most of the trees in Little Whinging, before sitting down to relax. In the shade as she was, it was colder than she might like, especially when she had been in the comfortable warmth of the early August sun just minutes ago, and there was a light sheen of sweat from her mad sprint into the trees.
"Should you be shivering? It's got to be twenty-four degrees out today."
Hadley jumped off the bundle of roots she had made her roost upon and spun around to the source of the voice. It came from above, oddly, and she found an older boy sitting a few feet above her head two trees to the south. He was the same one who had been reading on the bench in the park, she thought.
His hair was chin length and full of both waves and cowlicks, a popular length among muggle boys nowadays she was pretty sure. It had looked pitch black from the distance, but now he was nearer, and there was sunlight behind him, she could see some red to it, a dark brown or very dark auburn then. His skin was tanned and his cheeks apparently burned but otherwise rather normal looking. His clothing was normal, department store quality and a bit big on him, but normal, the shorts riding up his legs from the tree and some scars on his arms bared from the cut of the shirt.
All in all, he was very normal, except that his eyes were an unnaturally bright green, much like Hadley's own. It was strange, considering even in the magical world her eyes were an oddity. But then, didn't muggles have colored eye contacts? She'd seen people walking about in London with orange eyes or strange patterns when she had been last year. Though now she could see a light glare in front of his eyes. Glasses then, probably frameless, so it was unlikely he had contacts too.
"I- I'm sorry?" Hadley said to the odd man.
"It's pretty warm out today," he said, his voice of a very normal pitch, and the topic about as interesting. "It's probably about twenty four degrees out, maybe twenty two in the shade. It's just a bit warm to be shivering is all. Are you the sort that starts bundling up as early as September? Winters must be miserable for you." He wasn't looking at her, still reading his book from the park. A hefty text book of some sort it looked like, though Hadley couldn't read the title from her current distance.
Dudley had "accidentally" broken her glasses as a birthday gift to her a few days prior. While she wasn't as bad off as many people, it did make reading signs difficult, and things started to get blurry maybe seven or eight feet out.
"I suppose," Hadley really wasn't sure where this was going. And it wasn't her fault she was so thin, with the meager meals her jailers provided. Hopefully by Halloween she would put on enough weight to keep a bit warmer.
"Would you like to go get some lunch?" Hadley blinked at the sudden topic change. "I'm sorry, that was sudden, wasn't it?" He didn't sound sorry, or anything of the sort. His tone was just as flat as before, really. "I'm not trying to sound creepy but… hm, no, saying that sounds creepy too, doesn't it? I guess I should be introducing myself or something first. I'm Harry Potter."
Hadley continued staring at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would she introduce herself to a stranger who was admitting his own creepiness? And while the similarity to her own name did catch her attention for a moment, she knew Harry Potters were a dime a dozen.
"… You aren't going to introduce yourself then, that's fine," Harry Potter shrugged the off the slight. "Logically speaking, I suppose most people would. I'm sorry, I'm a bit out of sorts today. I'm going to be meeting some relatives unfortunately. My parents are dead, and I just found out Mum had a half sister out in Surrey – well, two half sisters but one's dead since the eighties. Trying to gear myself up to go meet them, but all I know is an address and that she's married."
"Well, good luck with that?" Hadley really had no idea what to say to him. He was right bonkers, but reasonably so she supposed. He didn't say when his parents died, but if he meant recently he could be on antidepressant medications. She'd seen on the telly that those could mess with someone's equilibrium.
"I might need it, anyone I ask only says terrible things about them," he sighed. "Says my aunt is a bit of a one-upper, and dotes on her son, and the son's a bully of a whale and my uncle's a loud braggart. Heard something about another in the family, a delinquent girl who goes whoring around and swiping things from shops, even though she's underage, but apparently my aunt's decent enough to take her in at least. Not the best sort of family, but I have to meet them. I mean, I think I do. Closure or something, so I know where things stand in the family."
Hadley froze at his description. The aunt, uncle, and male cousin sounded very much like her own aunt, uncle, and cousin. And the female cousin… well, she was aware of the rumors that Petunia spread around the neighborhood about her. Never mind that the only physical contact she'd ever had with a boy had been generally unwilling – Quirrell's physical assault to take the Philosopher's Stone being a good case in point – she knew exactly what the neighbors thought she did.
"You mean the Dursley family then?" she ventured finally, feeling a little sick.
"Yeah, at least that's the name I was given when I was asking about," Harry nodded. "My mum's name was Camellia Jones, but she was illegitimate, an affair from before her father met his future wife, y'know? It happened a lot back then – I guess it happens a lot now, too – but he stuck around long enough to name her. And then she met my Dad, Ben Potter, at school and they had little old me. There aren't any Potters on that side left who aren't alcoholic wrecks or criminals, and the Joneses disowned my Grandmum when she had Mum, so… I dunno. I'm not expecting much. Maybe just a cup of tea and a hello before I'm booted off."
It was now a very strange coincidence, Hadley realized, that they had such similar names. And there was a tiny push of compassion within her, the knowledge that she should really warn him off before he had to sit through Petunia's constant praise of Dudley, even if only long enough for an uninvited tea.
She also realized he talked a lot, and gave personal information very easy. Maybe he was a little slow.
"I wouldn't trust everything you hear, but I wouldn't go there if I were you, not if you can help it," she shrugged a little and looked askance. "Most of the things you'll hear about their niece is made up, but the family is… Vernon is a director at a company and has expensive company cars and likes to show them off. Dudley has a gang in the neighborhood, he's very fat but they still help him beat up other kids, though everyone kind of turns a blind eye, dunno why. Petunia… she's a house wife. She's proud of the state of her house, family and garden." Large portions of which, at least in summer, Hadley was the one to deal with.
There was a light thud that made Hadley jump, only to realize it was because Harry had tossed his book to the ground. He slowly managed to climb down from the tree, legs feeling out branches as he went before dropping the last five feet or so and landing beside the book in question, which he then picked up and dusted off. The back cover, which had a picture of a dragon on it, had a small dent in it from the collision with the roots at the bottom of the tree. Now that they were on equal footing, she realized he was rather short for the age his face portrayed, her eyes level with his nose, and his frame was nearly as thin as the frames of his glasses. Not literally perhaps, but he was certainly wispy in body.
"I'm sorry, I'm not used to people of late," he sighed. "Thank you for understanding. Could you help me find their house then, if you won't let me treat you to lunch? Number 4, Privet Drive is the address I have. I lost my street map somewhere, or maybe I left it in my motel room, and I've gotten lost twice already this morning before I went to this park."
"Well… alright," Hadley nodded finally. Not used to people? How weird. But if he hadn't done anything nefarious yet, when they were alone and just outside of hearing range of the play structure, she doubted he would do anything before she took him to where her "family" lived. And apparently he was family too. But, then, that word didn't mean much to Hadley. "This way then."
She didn't lead him back through the part of the park with the field, in case Dudley was still there or someone decided to spread more rumors about her doing things with older boys in the forest. Leading him to Magnolia Crescent and the shortcut there to Privet Drive, Hadley directed him towards the house where she lived, though she had decided he would not learn that that was the case. He was a loopy muggle probably on funny medications, and aunt Petunia could deal with him. Even if he was related, there was something off about him.
It was just her luck that, as they arrived, Hadley noticed Vernon was exiting his latest expensive company car, apparently home for lunch. It would surprise her if that was why Petunia had wanted her gone for the day, and why Dudley wasn't home either, if Vernon was there for more than just a meal.
She shuddered but managed to not make a face at the terrible thought.
It was too late for Hadley to just leave, and Vernon saw their approach as he slammed the door shut.
"Girl! What are you doing? Whoring yourself around again?" His scowl was as impressive as his mustache as he strode quickly down the sidewalk. Hadley knew she couldn't run. "Boy, you'd best not be seen around this girl, we've got her in the finest girls' reform school and she's a menace there too." He was eyeing Harry in a way that stated rather clearly that he didn't expect much better from a boy with a rock star's haircut. A moment later he reached them and grabbed Hadley by the arm, wrenching her toward the house.
She winced at the tight grip. At least she didn't bruise easily. For all she was undernourished and even a bit brittle boned – or had been until her first dose of Skele-Gro – she had never bruised easily, which was both a blessing for her self-image and a curse for any chance someone else might notice her rough handling.
"Sir? Are you Vernon Dursley? So she must be Hadley Potter?" Harry, Hadley realized, was keeping pace and made to block them as they approached the drive. "Sir, I strongly suggest you let her go now. I really do. In our world she's famous. If anyone ever found out you're daring to touch her, you won't survive a week."
Vernon stopped and stared. "Your wo- you're one of them?" His scowl from earlier came back and actually managed to outshine his dark moustache this time. Any chance that he was going to play nice with his new nephew was gone.
Meanwhile, Hadley's thoughts were reeling. Her world? He was a wizard? She had a maternal relative who was magic? Never mind the weird coincidence that he was a Potter too, he was a wizard. Or maybe a squib, but probably a wizard. And he was trying to be reasonable with the Dursleys. And he hadn't immediately recognized her as the Girl-Who-Lived, or maybe he had, but she didn't think so. So far there hadn't been any pictures of her in the news but for the one with Lockhart, and she felt she had grown up a lot in those two years.
She realized, belatedly, that Vernon was trying to pull her past Harry, now nearly level with the garage door as they hit the walk to the front door, that they were still talking over her lost concentration, and the grip on her arm was a lot firmer than before, enough to really hurt.
But what could she do? If she resisted, she'd get worse later – she was already going to get worse now that the Dursleys would think she was bringing strange wizards home with her – and if she didn't, at this rate her arm might be wrenched from the socket.
In the end, the decision was out of her hands.
"You're hurting her!" Until that point Harry's voice had been the calm counterpoint to Vernon's, but this outcry not only broke that trend, but seemed to snap Vernon out of himself. He let go of her arm like it was on fire and looked around to see if any neighbors had noticed the altercation. Mrs Number Six next door ducked behind her hedges, but Hadley knew Vernon noticed. The she had caught herself on the side of the garage was the only reason she was up high enough to have seen it, but Vernon was a good six feet tall and would have a far superior vantage point by comparison. He had certainly seen.
It would take some real work to clear themselves with the neighbors again, and Vernon knew it. His eyes darted from Harry to Hadley, thinking.
"Give me five minutes to talk to Hadley sir, and after that I won't take more than a minute of your time," Harry was calm again, his voice flat, but there was something about him that said if Vernon didn't give into his wishes, it wouldn't matter that Harry was short and skinny for a man, he would do something. Something "freakish".
Vernon shoved past the younger man before him and slammed the door behind him. Hadley could hear him shouting for Petunia as his steps thudded away.
Hadley looked at Harry, and swallowed. "Are you really related to me, or is this some ploy to get alone time with a… celebrity?" It was entirely possible, she knew. She led him round the side of the house, so they could hide behind the privet hedges from prying neighbors and still be within ear shot if Vernon demanded Hadley's presence. She leaned against the pale blue siding of the house as she worked on massaging feeling back into her shoulder.
"We really are related," Harry nodded, "and only maternally, I promise. Potter is a common name, no one on that side of my family is 'one of us'." He added air quotes, she supposed rather than admitting magic existed where the neighbors might hear. Smart. "I'm halfblood, Mum was one too, and her Mum was from a pureblood family. I really didn't know it was you I'd run into at the park, thought you were just a local girl who liked cross country running or some such."
"Why did you come here then? If you heard all these terrible stories about our… family, why did you come here?" Was it for her? Because he had a famous cousin, he wanted in on the spotlight or something?
"You, obviously, though I did want to see what Mum's little sister was like," he looked off to the side. "My parents were killed in '79, my dad's brother said it was a terrorist bombing, but it turns out it was from dark wizards. And I guess the idea of blood family that weren't from dad's side sounded nice. They aren't nice people. But I… something told me I had to go to Gringotts. Last week, on my eighteenth birthday. So I did, and I found out that even though Grandmum's family disowned her, she was re-inherited in their will. Except with her dead, and Mum dead, it went to me. And I got to learn the truth behind my Mum's history, who her dad was, and that there were half sisters, one a witch and one not, and the witch daughter was the mum of the famous Hadley Potter. It was all this crazy coincidence, y'know?"
"And you came to Surrey," Hadley frowned. Harry really did talk too much, too freely, but… it all made sense in an odd way. She'd never met Petunia's parents, but there were photos of Briar Evans here and there, and Harry certainly shared some traits. Like his eyes, Lily's eyes, Hadley's eyes.
And last year, Professor McGonagall had had a private talk with the girls about magical inheritances, mostly because girls often had them sooner than boys, around the same time they started to bleed being the earliest. Lots of weird things could happen at the time of inheritance, sometimes people had urges or learned they had some sort of skill, and the professor had admitted that that was often when Seers discovered what they were.
Of course, the later the inheritance, the more powerful the wizard. Even strong wizards had their inheritance by the age of 17, so she supposed her cousin must be stronger than most, magically speaking.
"I was hoping that maybe I'd have some blood relatives who were decent folk, and then I hoped that behind the rumors that they weren't all bad, and maybe you grew up better than I did, I guess," he shuffled a bit. "I don't… Seeing Mr Dursley, I don't think you did, did you? I know you don't know me. And I'm only eighteen, so it's kind of weird for me too. But I don't like seeing family like this. I was your age when I got away, went to live with my tutor. And I know this is really sudden, but do you want to do the same? Get away from here I mean."
Hadley stared at him. It had been just under two months since the only other time she had received such an offer, from her own godfather, only to have it ripped away. And hadn't she been thinking before about how terrible her family was?
This man was apparently family, or so he claimed, and there was something very sincere about him.
"I can't, there are… Professor Dumbledore said there are blood wards," Hadley shuffled a bit. Hopefully they wouldn't wear a bald spot in the lawn, or the Dursleys would have her head. "I have to come here for summers, so that I can have a protection from Voldemort. When I was eleven it saved my life, so I don't…" She didn't know him, didn't trust him, but there was potential for it to be better than the Dursleys, wasn't there?
"Blood wards are wards anchored in blood, that find security in shared blood," Harry told her after a moment of thinking. "That means the protection was based on your mother, if her sister or nephew are keeping you safe. My blood connection might be enough, too?" For all he wasn't terribly emotive, Hadley could see he had a bit of hope. Maybe he was like her. Maybe he just wanted some family.
Maybe she was totally losing it, because there was no way this could be a good idea.
"I don't even know that you're telling the truth, I don't know that you're family," she shook her head. Dumbledore would have known if she had family other than the Dursleys and put her with them, wouldn't he? Though from how he talked it sounded like his family wasn't the best sort of people either, surely having an ally would be better than living with the Dursleys! Wouldn't it? Dumbledore would have known there was an alternative, and so she didn't want to believe.
"There are spells, but you're underage so the Trace…" He trailed off, but Hadley's brow furrowed.
"You don't know about the… well, I guess not. I've heard Hogwarts sends a representative to muggleborn students to explain it, but since you aren't muggleborn, just muggle raised they might not have," Harry shuffled his feet and looked askance. "It's how they tell if students do magic outside of school. I had to go to the Ministry earlier this week, and I heard something about you getting a black mark your first summer?"
"But that wasn't me, it was a house-elf!" Hadley was more than ready to defend herself on that one. It wasn't her fault that Dobby wanted her expelled!
"Exactly! That's the downfall of the Trace. It's meant to track all students who do magic out of school, but all it really does is detect the magic around them. It can't tell the difference between you casting a first year spell or a house-elf casting it, let alone a pureblood child and parent. So any magical children living in a magical household aren't even tracked unless they are detected doing it too far from home. That's why I can't use any of the spells to prove I'm who I am, because the Ministry will you think you did it."
Hadley realized then the volume with which they spoke, and the loss of the delicacy of their speech. She glanced around, but even Mrs Number 6 had gone back inside as she could see the woman dealing with her three rowdy sons through a window. Punishment averted, hopefully.
"It's okay, the blood wards aren't the only ones here, I can tell," Harry spoke again, drawing Hadley's attention away. "You're worried about people listening, right? There's… I can feel it, a ward that tries to make people ignore this house when there's anything odd, even just conversation."
"Oh," Hadley relaxed a little but still tried to remember that just because they wouldn't be overheard by neighbors, that didn't mean that her aunt and uncle wouldn't either. She could still hear their raised voices from somewhere inside, after all.
"Look, I don't really know how to prove I am who I say I am without going somewhere more magic, unless you want me to put another black mark on your record," Harry's hand raised to rub the back of his neck. "But after what happened a few minutes ago, I don't think you want to be here in an hour or two either. I have a room at a motel near the train station but that sounds creepy, I'm sure. I don't know what will make you trust me. All I can do is offer to get you out of here."
And from there, it was all a leap of faith. Hadley would not know for some time how well or misplaced that faith would be.
Author's Note: As it says up top, this is a rewrite of a fic I tried writing about 4 years ago on my previous account With a Midnight Smile (I just discovered I cannot sign in. I must have stopped using whatever email that account went to. So... yeah). Except, y'know, better. Among the list of things that I did wrong with the original were the following: Too much bashing, typical bashing methods of the genre (Weasleys and Dumbledore taking money, compulsions, etc), Harry too involved/knowledgeable, overpowering, underpowering, overestimating, excessive gender swaps… the list goes on. So, really, I want to do this one much better. I'm actually keeping notes on it too, I have an outline and detailed notes on certain concepts, though the outline is a bit fuzzy on 5th year. We'll see.
On that note, I do not like Ginny and Ron. I really don't. In fact, I don't think I've written either of them in a fic since the original iteration of this one (sort of, they were gender bent and renamed and rather different). But they will have to be in this story, and I will do them justice. Just because I don't like Ginny doesn't mean I will make her the castle bike. Just because I think Ron is a prat doesn't mean he's being paid to be Hadley's friend.
Just because I'm going to be fair to them doesn't mean I have to make everything all hunky dory.
Regarding my choice of the name "Hadley" for fem!Harry, Harry is a traditional British name, common and simple. It means "leader of armies". Obviously you won't get a name meaning like that for girls, so I wanted to go with a common British name, but sticking with the Evans flower theme (as I did with Harry's "mother" Camellia and their grandfather Briar (I had a lot of options for him actually, but Briar Evans sounded best)), Hadley meaning "field of heather". A lot of people like to give Harry the name "Hadrian", and I've seen Hadriana for girl Harry once, saying Harry is just a nickname. Hadrian means "from the city of Hadria, Italy." I think a name like Harry has more character than that, thanks, and Hadley too.
I can tell I haven't written much fanfic on this computer because it doesn't know the word muggle. Or Voldemort. Obviously I need to remedy this… 2 years after I got it…
Doodled Hadley and Harry. It's on da. I AM SO PROUD OF HADLEY'S NOSE. I GAVE HER A REALLY PRETTY NOSE GUYS.
Finally: This is my 42nd story on this account. Booyah.