So I wasnt sure after a rude comment who I should put down as the characters. So I decided that since this was originally a femharry story which it still really is, but the fact that Rose characters diverges pretty far off of Harry character in the books, that I will both put the characters as Harry and OC. I also from the beginning state in the summary that this is a femharry story, you have been warned, so if you click on this story not realizing that the lead character is a representation of a female Harry Potter that is your own fault and you should not get mad at me if you cant read or know what Femharry means though I think it's quite obvious.

I cant promise to please every reader, because I am not perfect and there are many different opinions and preferences out their regarding gender bending Harry. But this is my story, I started to write it because enjoyed it and still do. I also wish that you will enjoy reading it, but as I already said, I cant promise you that you will because I don't know you all personally.

I ask ahead of time that those who do not have accounts or just wish to be anonymous by not signing in that you do not troll me with comments for too nasty and mean to be considered proper critism and that your reviews will be deleted immediately. I'm not saying that all I want is positive, because negative critism comes with being a writer, but if you would simply please think before you write and refrain from going to far and to not call me any nasty curse words. I do have feelings.
But if you do have your critism, negative or positive, please go ahead and review in a mature way that can help improve my story rather then just attacking me. I look forward to reading everyone reviews.

Also a big thank you to my Beta Maggie who without this story would not have made it to the second year or even half way though the first. Also thank you to those who read the first year and review with nothing but love, you guys kept me going and let me know that my story was worth it all.

And now for the first chapter of the second year!

The Worst BirthdayEver

It wasn't the first time that an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. In fact they had become very frequent after Rose had returned from her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It seemed that Vernon had once again been woken in the middle of the night by a loud hooting noise that came from Rose's room. From her owl, Hedwig.

"This is the third time this week I've been woken far too early in the morning… I'm telling you, girl, if you can't control that bloody bird it will have to go!" he near roared, and Rose had to wipe some spittle from her face after pouring her uncle his usual cup of coffee.

"But she's bored. She can't help it when she's so used to flying around outside. If you would just allow me to let her out at night, at least then-"

"Do I look stupid to you?" Rose was wise enough not to answer that question.

'He's so disgusting,' she thought as she noticed a piece of egg dangling from her walrus of an uncle's mustache.

"I know exactly what will happen if that owl is let out," he said, throwing a dark look towards his wife, Petunia.

Rose tried to argue, but her words were drowned out by a long, loud belch from her piglet of a cousin, Dudley. She flinched at the sound.

Dudley was so large that his bottom drooped over the side of his chair. "I want more bacon," he said.

"There's more in frying pan, sweetums," Aunt Petunia told him, turning her eyes on her son with a look of adoration.

"Pass the frying pan… freak."

Rose's jaw went rigid as she controlled her temper and magic. Across from his son, Vernon grinned proudly as Petunia pretended not to hear or see anything as she put the milk away.

"You've forgotten to say the magic word," Rose gritted out through clenched teeth irritably. And suddenly, she felt a hard hit to her face as she was slapped hard, landing back on the floor, the coffee pot spilling over her lap as she fell and gave a painful cry as her thighs and stomach were burned. Standing over her, Vernon looked down purple-faced, a vein visibly throbbing in his temple.

"Vernon!" Petunia cried, moving forwards to help her niece, but Vernon held out an arm, stopping her.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?" he hollered down at her, pounding a fist down on the table, the plates and utensils clattering from the force.

"I only meant that he should say 'please'." But her words went unheard as he continued to shout, looking ready to kick her where she lay and Rose didn't even have her wand to defend herself against him. All her things, her spell books, her robes, cauldron, and broom were locked in the cupboard under the stairs where she used to sleep.


The coffee on her dress started to cool, but the pain of the steaming hot liquid did not ease the burning against her skin and she was afraid she would now not only have a bruise across her face, but burn scars on her abdomen and legs. She sent a pleading look at her pale aunt who was trying to get past her uncle's arm to get to her. Finally, even she seemed to reach her limit with her husband and gathered what little courage she had as she pushed her husband's beefy arm out of the way to rush to her niece's side, patting her stained dress with a cold wet cloth.

"Enough, Vernon, I spoke to you about raising your hand against her and especially hitting her face. She is a girl, and a child!" Petunia said as she helped her niece to her feet.

"She's a freak, no better then an animal, and if I want I will treat her as such!"

Petunia ignored her husband. She needed to get Rose under cool water. The glare that the usually weak-willed Petunia sent Vernon was enough to make him sit back down as she took Rose out and upstairs to the bathroom. "Take off your clothes and get in the tub, the water needs to be cold so brace yourself and don't scrub or you'll irritate your burns. I'll get you a fresh set of clothes." And then Petunia was leaving the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

With a sigh, Rose watched the cold water fill the tub and started to take off her dress, hissing as she peeled the fabric from her legs. With a deep breath she stole her nerves and stepped into the water and shivered before slowly lowering her self into the tub, hissing again as the cold water came into contact with her heated red flesh before it started to ease the pain.

'I wish I could make a potion to heal me rather than having to make do with Muggle medicine,' Rose thought irritably as she leaned back against the tub, letting her head fall back as she blinked away the tears.

She wanted to go back to Hogwarts. If it was terrible for the Dursleys having her back it was even worse for her. Her only friend in this horrible house was Hedwig. She hated it. She missed Hogwarts, missed her comfortable four-poster bed that felt like heaven beneath her back, the delicious food that she lacked at the Dursleys, her classes, visiting Hagrid every Friday afternoon for tea, and she especially missed Quidditch. She wanted to be back in the sky as much as Hedwig did. This house was her cage.

She fiddled with the golden key around her neck that she'd caught and kept as a 'token' (as Dumbledore called it) from her adventure down in the deepest dungeons of the castle trying to protect the Sorceress Stone. The gold glimmered in the water, matching the shine of the bracelet that had been left to her by her father with the Potter family crest. She hadn't taken it off since she first put it on last Christmas.

What she wouldn't do to have her things. But her uncle had locked them away the moment she had walked into the door the day she returned from Hogwarts. Of course the Dursleys wouldn't care if she couldn't do any of her summer homework, or lost her place on her House Quidditch team because she wasn't able to practice all summer. It was torture for Rose.

'Not only did that pig hit me again and make me burn my legs, but it's my birthday and even Aunt Petunia forgot about it, though I shouldn't be surprised. So far this is the worst birthday ever!' Rose thought bitterly just before her aunt walked back in with a roll of bandages and a pretty floral dress for her to change into.

When Rose had returned, her aunt had put away all of her wizard's robes and clothes in the cupboard with the rest of Rose's things, and the drawers of her dresser were filled with brand new dresses, skirts and blouses waiting for her in her room. Rose had no idea how her uncle had allowed her aunt to spend so much on her, but for all she knew it could have been out of her aunt's own spending money and her uncle didn't care enough to notice that her clothes actually fit her now. At least Rose didn't have to suffer uncomfortable and itchy secondhand clothes anymore.

"I'm sorry," was all the woman said after Rose had gotten out of the tub, and helped her niece to bandage her legs.

Looking in the mirror, Rose saw that the mark from Uncle Vernon's slap was already turning purple. When her aunt was done, Rose let the skirt of her dress fall to cover her injured legs, and let her aunt towel dry her hair before Rose combed through it with her fingers. When she finished she followed Petunia back downstairs obediently.

"Girl, clean this mess on the floor immediately!"

Without complaint, Rose heeded her uncle's order and went to the kitchen to get a dirty cloth to clean up the now cold coffee from the floor. Being careful of her new clean dress, Rose started her cleaning, placing the now empty coffee pot on the table, as she'd deal with it after tending to the floor. And as she scrubbed the floor like Cinderella, she didn't hope for a prince with a glass slipper to come and steal her away, but of an owl with a letter to Hogwarts. As long as she thought of Hogwarts and her friends, it made living with her Muggle relatives and taking her uncle's abuse a bit easier, yet no less painful.

Once she had finished with the floor, Rose took the coffee pot into the kitchen to wash with the rest of the dirty dishes from that morning. As she scrubbed at the grime on one of the plates, Uncle Vernon suddenly cleared his throat with a sense of importance that had Rose rolling her eyes, something she seemed to do a lot when it came to the Dursleys. "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day. This is the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon.

'Ah yes, now I remember, the stupid dinner party tonight. A party for which I'm preparing all the food so Aunt Petunia doesn't have to lift a finger except for the cake she insist on baking and decorating herself,' Rose thought bitterly as she scrubbed at the plate harder.

For a complete two weeks, to Rose's irritation, her uncle had not talked of anything other than his having invited over a rich builder and his wife to dinner, hoping that he would get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon worked for a company that made drills). Rose thought it was all terribly boring.

"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," he said to his family who was now listening attentively.

"We should all be in our positions at eight o'clock, when we will be expecting the Mason's to arrive… Petunia, you'll be-?"

"In the lounge, waiting to welcome them graciously to our home," Aunt Petunia answered promptly.

"Very good, and you, Dudley?"

"I'll be waiting to open the door!" Rose didn't look to see the ridiculous face her cousin was making as he responded. "'May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?'" He recited his lines as if he were in a play, the three of them insistent upon having it all prepared and rehearsed before the guests arrived.

"Oh, they'll just love him!" cried Aunt Petunia, doting over her son in such a ludicrous way it made Rose's empty stomach churn upsettingly.

"Excellent, Dudley," Vernon praised his boy, before Rose felt his eyes move to her before he spoke again. "And you?" he asked her.

"I'll be in my bedroom making no noise and pretending I don't exist," she answered tonelessly, not even giving him the respect of looking at him when she replied as she continued on with the dishes.

"Exactly," he said, as if wishing she really didn't exist. Rose was sure that the happiest days of his life had been when she was at Hogwarts and he didn't need to bother with her anymore.

"I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight fifteen-"

"I'll announce dinner," said Petunia.

'The dinner I cooked,' Rose added mentally in annoyance, though not daring to speak her thoughts aloud.

"And, Dudley, you'll say-"

"May I take you to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" Looking over her shoulder, Rose saw her cousin offer his fat arm to an invisible woman.

"My perfect little gentleman!" squealed Aunt Petunia.

And you?" Uncle Vernon said to Rose again, his voice cold and vicious as she put a dry dish away before answering.

"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist," Rose said in the same toneless voice as before.

"Precisely. Now we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?" he asked his wife.

"'Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason…' 'You must tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason,'" said Petunia, and Rose wanted to gag.

"Perfect… Dudley?" Vernon asked his son.

"How about this – 'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'" It was too much for Rose and Petunia in different ways. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son while Rose ducked underneath the counter in the guise of getting something to hide her laughter.

"And you, girl?" Uncle Vernon asked Rose as she stood back up once she thought she was under control, though she was trying extra hard to keep a straight face on this time around.

"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist," she said, trying not to sigh.

"Too right, you will. The Masons don't know about you and it's going to stay that way," her uncle said in a threatening tone that earned him a glare from his wife. "When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject up about drills," he said. "With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. We'll be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow," he said, almost giddy at the idea. It didn't matter all that much to Rose, even as she listened while trying not to scratch at her burns – no matter where they went the Dursleys still wouldn't like her anymore than they did there at Privet Drive. "Now that's out of the way, I'm off to pick out the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you." Her uncle suddenly rounded on her with a snarl. "You'd better make this the best damned meal you've ever cooked, or the you will pay the consequences if the Masons aren't satisfied with their dinner," he warned her before leaving the house.

With a sigh, Rose started to prepare what needed to be done and cooked first before anything else, working herself to a sweat over a hot stove for a bunch of ungrateful Muggles. Taking out all her frustration in her cooking, Rose sang under her breath as she made the perfect meal that not even her fat lard of an uncle could complain about. "Happy birthday to me…happy birthday to me…" she sang, miserable. Not a card and not a present, not even a single letter from any of her friends.

More than anything Rose missed her friends, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Tracey Davis. But apparently they didn't miss her as much as she missed them. Not a single one of them had written to her all summer. If Rose didn't have Hedwig, she was sure that the feelings of loneliness she was suffering would be so much worse then they already were. A number of times Rose had come close to unlocking Hedwig's cage with magic to send her with a letter to either one of her three friends, but the risk was too great. Underage witches and wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school, though Rose hadn't told the Dursleys that. It was the only thing she could use to strike terror into them, and that terror kept them from locking her under the cramped cupboard again.

At first when she'd arrived back she'd had the most wonderfully entertaining time, muttering gibberish and watching Dudley waddle his way out of a room on his fat legs as quick as he could away from her. But after a while, the silence from her friends had dulled the joy she'd got out of scaring her cousin.

If only she could get one letter, just one letter from anyone, even if it was just from Hogwarts. At this point Rose would even be happy with a letter from Draco Malfoy, just so she knew that it hadn't all just been a dream. It had been such an amazing year, both good and bad. After all, at the very end of her last term Rose had come face to face with none other then Lord Voldemort himself, the thing that killed her parents – for she refused to call him a man of any sort. And although he had been just a ruin of his former self, he was still terrifying, still cunning and still determined to regain his power.

Rose still had nightmares, and there was no Tracey at the Dursleys to comfort her whenever she woke from one. She had barely slipped from Voldemort's clutches a second time, and sometimes in the middle of the night she swore she could feel Quirrell's hands around her neck again and she would jump from her bed in terror as she clawed at invisible arms, soaked in a cold sweat, with a scream lodged in her throat, as livid red eyes stared, murderous, into her own.

"You really thought I'd forgotten your birthday, didn't you?" Turning with a start from what she was doing, Rose stared at her sheepish-looking aunt, before noticing the wrapped box in her hand that had a pink bow on top. "Go ahead, open it," Petunia said as she placed the box on the countertop between them. Checking first to make sure that none of the food would burn; Rose carefully pulled off the bow and peeled away the wrapping paper before opening the box. Inside was a beautiful headband, decorated on one side with gold butterflies, dark painted leaves, and fake pearls, and white and green crystal beads that branched off on twisted gold wire. It was beautiful. "I saw it in the window of a pawn shop. It was rather cheap for being as pretty as it is. Didn't spend much at all on it, really," she said to her neice.

Putting it on, it fit Rose's head as perfect as a crown, pushing her hair behind her ears and leaving her bangs to fall freely over her brow as it always had, covering her scar just the way Rose liked it to. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia," Rose said halfheartedly with a smile as she trashed the wrappings and bow.

"Happy birthday, Rose." With that said, Petunia returned to her cleaning and Rose to her cooking without another word spoken between them again until later that evening.

"Are you done yet? the Masons will be arriving any minute now!" Aunt Petunia called in a panic.

Rose was just putting the pudding she had made on top of the fridge, the loin of roast pork she had been cooking still sizzling to perfection in the oven while the cake her aunt had prepared sat proudly on top of the counter. "All done!" she said, checking the roast one last time before reminding her aunt when to turn the stove off before dinner, admiring her aunt's salmon-pink cocktail dress.

"Good. Now take your supper to your room, you don't have anytime to eat it at the table now."

She was then handed a plate with nothing but two slices of bread and lump of cheese before she was being pushed out of the kitchen towards the stairs. As she passed the door to the living room, Rose caught a glimpse of her uncle and cousin in bow ties and dinner jackets. Rose had only just gotten to the top of the stairs when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon appeared at the bottom of the stairs looking furious as he reminded her not to make a sound while she was in her room.

Rose walked to her bedroom on her tiptoes, planning to eat her 'meal'(if that was what they dared to call it after the one she had made for them) and then maybe she would read one of her mum's Muggle novels that she had found in the shoe box of her mother's things that she had left behind before her death. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe seemed very interesting. Slipping into her room, Rose nearly dropped her plate when her eyes landed on it.


I checked the publishing date for when The Chronicles of Narnia came out and it was before Rose was born.

I look forward to everyone reviews, they both help to encourage and inspire me to write a better story and help me improve my skill every time.