He Ignored the Witch's Warning… Now He's Trapped in a New Body

Harry was tired.

Not the kind of tired where you think, I’ll get some sleep and everything will be fine tomorrow.

He was truly tired.

He could still taste the metallic bitterness of the spell on his tongue the same spell the witch had cast at that crowded nightclub after he had stubbornly ignored her very clear no and kept pushing. One touch to his chest, a crooked smile…

And suddenly, the whole world had turned upside down.

Now he sat on the wooden railing of an old bridge deep in the woods, his long, smooth legs crossed beneath him. The denim miniskirt had ridden up higher than it should have, while a pair of red boots gleamed beneath the golden light of late afternoon.

His straight black hair fell over his shoulders. The tight white blouse hugged a chest he still wasn't used to having, while the burgundy leather jacket slipped casually from one shoulder.

Harry, or whatever was left of him? Stared at the red leaves drifting down toward the river below.

And thought.

Should he go back to the club?

Should he face those annoying guys again, the ones who had been just like him only a few hours ago? The kind who couldn't understand the meaning of no, kept getting closer, drowning everyone in cheap cologne and saying things they probably thought sounded clever?

Or should he stay here?

Feel the cold wind brush against unfamiliar skin.

Listen to the silence of the forest.

Enjoy the strange freedom of no longer having to prove himself to anyone.

Harry closed his eyes.

The magic still pulsed through his body.

His mind was still screaming the same thing:

This isn't fair.

But for the first time since the spell, the corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile.

Maybe the witch had done more than simply transform him.

Maybe, without meaning to, she had given him something he had desperately needed.

A chance to stop running.

A chance to stop chasing everything.

A chance to simply… be.

He,or she, stayed there a little longer.

Resting.

Thinking.

Deciding what came next.

And all around him, the leaves kept falling.

Maybe tomorrow, Harry would figure out what this new life meant.

But tonight?

Tonight, he didn't have to decide anything.

He could just breathe.