We Slytherins Are Just That Smooth!

Once she had gotten past Aunt Petunia, everything else was much easier.

The Dursley family's doorbell rang at seven sharp in the morning.

Harry was tying the damned lace hairband Aunt Petunia insisted she wear every day, and she nearly tore it in two when she heard the bell.

Aunt Petunia had told her the day before that someone from Hogwarts would come for her today and take her to the magical world.

Hagrid.

It had to be Hagrid!

Her heart pounded as she bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time, only to force herself to slow down at the last moment.

Calm down, she told herself. You're a little girl meeting a giant for the "first" time.

The door opened. Hagrid's enormous frame nearly filled the entire doorway. His beard was even bushier than Harry remembered, with a few suspicious leaves caught in it, though there was no telling where he had picked them up. The wooden doorframe groaned under the strain as he bent down.

"Ha! Harry Potter!" Hagrid's voice made the picture frames in the entryway tremble, and his eyes grew wet the moment he saw Harry. "Merlin's beard, you look just like Lily-"

Harry took a step forward without thinking, then stopped herself short at Aunt Petunia's sharp intake of breath. She had to act like a child meeting him for the first time, not an old friend who wanted to throw herself into Hagrid's arms and give him a warm hug.

"H-hello, sir," she stammered.

Hagrid paid no mind to any of that. He swept Harry into his arms, squeezing so hard that her feet left the ground. With her face buried in his moleskin coat, Harry smelled the familiar scents of gunpowder, Rock Cakes, and some kind of magical creature.

"Happy birthday, Harry! I brought you a present!" Hagrid spun around twice with Harry in his arms before putting her down, then brought out a cake from behind his back and handed it to her, its packaging still reasonably intact.

It seemed that because Aunt Petunia and her family hadn't moved, Hagrid's cake had managed to survive in one piece.

"Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts!" Hagrid said as he put her down, tears of excitement still clinging to his beard. "I'm here to take you shopping in Diagon Alley!"

Aunt Petunia suddenly squeezed between them.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she shoved Harry's suitcase roughly into Hagrid's hand.

"Listen, you... you giant." Petunia's voice was taut as a bowstring. She seemed a little afraid of Hagrid, but after a glance, she nevertheless plucked up her courage and said, "I'm entrusting her to you, but you have to promise me that not a hair on her head will be harmed!"

Having finished threatening Hagrid, she turned and cupped Harry's face, her fingers trembling slightly. "Write every week, understood? It would be even better if they had a telephone there..."

That was the gap between the magical world and the Muggle world. Muggle technology was far more advanced than anything in the magical world, and with magic at their disposal, most wizards never considered making advances in science.

Uncle Vernon coughed heavily from the shadows of the hallway. Harry turned to look at him. His expression was uneasy, and only after a long while did he manage to tell her to stay safe.

Hagrid straightened up, nearly hitting the ceiling light. "Mrs. Dursley, I swear on my life, as long as I'm alive, no one will hurt Harry."

Petunia stared at him for a long time before finally giving a stiff nod.

When she bent down to straighten Harry's collar, which was already perfectly neat, Harry noticed how cold her fingers were.

"Stay safe, and make sure you take good care of yourself," her aunt told her, choking up.

Harry nodded, her body stiff.

London wasn't particularly big, but it wasn't small either.

Harry finally breathed a sigh of relief when the clamor of the Leaky Cauldron washed over her.

Aunt Petunia had practically treated Harry like a doll, buying her an entire wardrobe of puffy dresses and little leather shoes.

Those dresses did look lovely on little girls, but only when you wore one yourself did you realize how inconvenient they were to walk around in.

"First, we need to go to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions," Hagrid said cheerfully, his big feet making the floor creak. "Then we'll buy a wand... Oh! And an owl!"

Harry's eyes lit up.

Madam Malkin was just as kind a witch as Harry remembered. In her previous life, she had recommended the most practical clothes to Harry, but in this life, the gleam in her eyes when she saw Harry gave her a bad feeling.

"Dear, we have the latest school robes with lace trim-"

...He'd wondered why he'd seen lace on someone's wizard robes before. So you could have it added yourself!

"Ordinary ones are fine!" Harry blurted out. "I mean... something simpler."

Madam Malkin laughed. "Don't be nervous, dear. I saw your dress and thought you were one of those children who like lace and little bows."

As the measuring tape began to travel around her waist, Harry hesitated for a long while before speaking. "Could you make a few pairs of trousers? The kind girls can wear too?"

It wasn't an unreasonable request that would put anyone out.

Madam Malkin blinked. "Of course, dear. Many witches like to wear trousers with their robes these days."

"They're much more convenient than skirts, especially during Flying Class."

The next step was to withdraw money from Gringotts.

Seeing the Galleons in her parents' vault, she grew more sentimental than she had in her old male body, perhaps because she was a girl now.

It was also possible that, at this point in her previous life, her parents, whom she had never seen or heard, had been nothing more than two names to her, whereas now they felt more real.

Besides her parents, there were also the people she loved.

Like Sirius...

All right, stop. I can't keep thinking about this.

After withdrawing a fortune, Harry immediately rushed back to the robe shop and ordered five pairs of trousers in one go.

Hagrid scratched his head beside her. "Do girls nowadays wear that many trousers?"

"Hagrid," Harry said solemnly, "this is a matter of survival."

Hagrid shrugged. He didn't know why it was a matter of survival, but Dumbledore had told him that little girls always had thoughts of their own, and he didn't need to know too much.

When she pulled the trousers on, the long-missed sense of security nearly brought her to tears.

There was no light, fluttering skirt, only solid fabric wrapped around her legs.

Thank Merlin, she didn't think she would ever want to wear a dress again in this life.

On the way to buy a wand, Hagrid burst out laughing. "Looks like you really like your new clothes!"

Harry only smiled.

The wind blew through her red hair, with no annoying hairband in the way this time. She touched the heavy purse in her trouser pocket, full of Galleons that belonged to James and Lily Potter.

Returning to the magical world once again made Harry more eager than ever.

The bell at the Ollivander Wand Shop rang crisply.

Harry brought a ray of Diagon Alley sunshine in with her as she pushed open the door. Dust floated through the shop, dancing in the beam of light. She narrowed her eyes and saw the familiar platinum-blond head at the counter turn around.

...Just my luck. If I'd known, I wouldn't have come so early.

"Ah!" Mr. Ollivander's silvery eyes suddenly brightened in the dim shop. "This must be-"

"Harry Potter," a clear boy's voice finished.

Draco Malfoy stood there with a wand he had yet to try in his hand. Sunlight cast a soft glow over his platinum hair, and he wore a polite smile Harry had never seen before.

Oh, it wasn't that she had never seen it; he had just never smiled at him like that.

That skunk had been just as insufferably smug the first time they met.

Ollivander hurried around the counter, completely forgetting the customer he had been serving.

"What an honor! Your mother bought her first wand here, willow, ten and a quarter inches-"

Out of the corner of her eye, Harry saw Draco left standing to one side, his fingers tapping lightly on a wand box. From what she remembered of her previous life, his face should have gone white with anger by now, and he should have started complaining in that distinctive drawl. She glanced at Draco without thinking, ready for the familiar taunts.

She could also have a laugh at her old rival's expense.

"Please attend to this young lady first," Draco suddenly said, his voice so mild that Harry nearly twisted her ankle. "I don't mind waiting a little longer."

...What?

Harry stared at Draco in disbelief, but before she could say anything, Ollivander had already brought over a stack of wand boxes. "Let's begin, Miss Potter. Try this one: beech, dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches."

Harry had barely taken hold of the wand when the lampshade above her exploded into fragments.

"Oh, no, definitely not that one." Ollivander nimbly dodged the falling shards of glass. "Here, this one: cherry, unicorn hair-"

This time, a bookshelf toppled over. Harry scrambled to steady the swaying shelf and caught sight of Draco covering his mouth with a handkerchief.

A soft chuckle slipped through his fingers.

"Is that funny?" Harry snapped automatically, only realizing afterward that she had used the same tone as in her previous life.

Draco immediately lowered his handkerchief, a flicker of surprise passing through his gray eyes. "Please don't misunderstand, Miss Potter. I simply thought..." He considered his words. "You look very cute waving a wand."

Harry felt as though she were suffocating.

Cute? Malfoy called me cute? That's more horrifying than hearing that bald, boiled-egg-headed Voldemort compliment Dumbledore's hair.

"Keep trying, dear." Ollivander, entirely oblivious to the exchange, handed her another wand. "Ebony, phoenix feather, ten inches."

This time, the explosion knocked over the ink bottle on the counter. Black ink splashed across Harry's trousers.

"Sorry!" She hurriedly tried to wipe it off, only to hear another soft chuckle.

She looked up to find Draco smiling before he could hide it. The boy immediately raised both hands in surrender. "I really wasn't laughing at you, Miss Potter. It's just..." He pointed at Harry's face. "There's ink on the tip of your nose."

Harry instinctively touched her nose, only to smear the ink further. Draco pulled a silk handkerchief embroidered with his family crest from his pocket. "Please use this."

She accepted the handkerchief hesitantly. Its faint citrus scent made her temples throb.

This courteous Malfoy was even harder to deal with than the sarcastic one.

"Try this one: holly, phoenix feather core, eleven inches-oh!"

The moment the wand touched Harry's fingertips, a shower of golden sparks burst forth. Warm power flowed from her palm through her body, and a soft golden light bloomed from the tip, illuminating the entire shop.

"Perfect! This is the one!" Ollivander's voice trembled with excitement. "Curiously enough, the phoenix feather in this wand and the one in another wand came from the same phoenix-"

Harry listened mechanically as the old man rambled on about a fact she had known for a long time. Her attention was entirely on Draco, who was looking intently at the wand in her hand.

"It suits you very well," Draco said softly, then gave an elegant bow. "I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, Miss Potter."

When she stepped outside, Hagrid was feeding Hedwig. He grinned as soon as he saw her. "Did you find a wand that suits you?"

"Mm." Harry's reply was subdued.

"Did something happen to upset you?" Hagrid asked.

Harry shook her head.

She didn't know how to explain to Hagrid that she had just seen an annoying, constantly farting skunk suddenly turn into a greasy weasel.

She took one last glance at the wand shop window. In the reflection, Draco Malfoy was politely bidding Ollivander farewell, every gesture full of Pure-blood aristocratic elegance.

Merlin, she would rather never play Quidditch again in this life than face a Malfoy who called her "cute."

Actually, let's change that. Malfoy can't compare to Quidditch.

Inside the wand shop, Draco noticed that Harry was secretly watching him after she went out, and his nose rose even higher.

Ha! I knew it! All I have to do is follow Father's example, and the girls will all fall at my feet!

Even the great Harry Potter is no exception!

Yes, as long as she's sensible enough, I'll be willing to be her friend!

"Can you really take the train on your own?" Hagrid asked again, deeply worried, before they parted.

"I'll be fine. Don't you have something to do, Hagrid? You should go," Harry urged him.

Hagrid still needed to deliver the Philosopher's Stone to Dumbledore. He shouldn't stay here too long.

But...

Hagrid was troubled.

He really couldn't bring himself to let a sweet, soft little girl like Harry go to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters alone! If she were a boy, then going alone would be fine. Boys always found a way.

Of course, he didn't mean that little girls couldn't find their own way.

But! Little Harry was so cute. What if some strange person took an interest in her on the way?

Only after Harry urged him repeatedly did Hagrid leave, looking back every few steps.

A month later, when Aunt Petunia and her family brought Harry to the station and handed over her luggage, she realized she had been a little rash before.

The Muggles could only take her as far as the space between platforms nine and ten. She would have to manage the rest of the way herself.

She saw Aunt Petunia and her family off, watching them look back every few steps.

Panting, she pushed the luggage trolley, which held twice as many trunks as she remembered. Aunt Petunia must have stuffed in a pile of changes of clothes, and probably lace hairbands and bows she wouldn't need at all!

"Damn it..." Harry muttered, tossing her fallen red hair over her shoulder.

After becoming a girl, her strength seemed to have diminished too, making the luggage especially difficult to push. A wheel had caught in a groove, and no matter how hard she pushed, it wouldn't budge.

It was also possible that little Harry had been pampered and had never had to do piles of chores like Harry.

I miscalculated. I should have had Dudley or Uncle Vernon help push the luggage closer to the pillar!

"Need a hand, little miss?"

A teasing voice came from above her. Harry looked up sharply to find two identical pairs of brown eyes looking down at her, sparkling with mischief. Fred and George—no, she didn't know which was which yet-were grinning at her, their smiles more familiar than she could say.

"Wow, look at this lost little princess." The one on the left bowed extravagantly. "Would you like a knight to escort you?"

"She looks like she's taking everything she owns to Hogwarts," the one on the right chimed in, fingering a bow dangling precariously from Harry's trolley. "She's even bringing a dozen hair ornaments."

"Fred! George!" Molly Weasley's voice was as loud as Harry remembered. "Don't pick on the little girl!" She strode over, her red hair gathered in a familiar bun at the back of her head, tugging little Ron along as he looked around curiously, with Ginny following behind.

"We weren't picking on her, Mum," the twins said in unison, their expressions outrageously innocent. "We were just offering our 'gentlemanly services.'"

Molly gave each of them a rap on the head, then turned to Harry. "Are you here alone, dear? Where are your parents or guardians?"

Harry blinked and shook her head.

"They've already left, ma'am... Could you tell me how to get onto the platform?" Harry asked softly, deliberately putting uncertainty into her voice.

She hadn't forgotten who she was supposed to be.

A girl who had never been to the magical world and had come to the station alone couldn't possibly know how to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Molly's expression softened at once. "Oh, dear, everyone's nervous their first time." She crouched down and looked Harry in the eye. "You just walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop, and don't be afraid. Just go straight through."

Harry nodded.

Mrs. Weasley's voice always had a way of putting people at ease.

"Fred!" Molly turned and ordered, "Help this young lady with her luggage."

"Why me?" Fred protested, though he had already taken Harry's trolley. "George isn't doing anything either!"

George immediately clutched his chest, looking heartbroken. "Mum, you're playing favorites! You're only letting Fred help such a cute little girl?" He leaned close to Harry and winked. "I bet Fred will lose your luggage halfway there."

"I will not!" Fred protested, but he deliberately tilted the trolley, startling Harry into grabbing the trunks.

Molly gave George another rap on the head. "Don't frighten her!" She turned to Harry, her voice softening. "Don't worry, dear. Fred will get you safely onto the platform. We'll see you in a bit, all right?"

Harry nodded. She badly wanted to hug the familiar woman, but all she did was whisper, "Thank you," before following Fred and the trolley toward the magical wall.

"Ready, little one?" Fred looked back at her with a grin. "Time to make a run for it!"

Harry took a deep breath and followed Fred as he charged toward the barrier. As she passed through the wall, she heard George shout behind her, "If Fred loses you, remember to come find me-ow!" That last cry was clearly from Molly giving him another smack.

The familiar steam locomotive came into view.

She was back in this world again.

"Here we are, Your Highness." Fred bowed extravagantly. "Would you like me to help you get your luggage onto the train? Or-" He lowered his voice. "Would you like to see me put a Levitation Charm on a trunk and watch it hit Percy on the head?"

Harry couldn't help laughing.

She really did want to see that. Just imagining it, she knew it would be fun.