Harry Potter and the world of Reversed Sexual libido (SI as Harry)

Harry shot out of bed, panic surging through him as Neville's words sunk in. *Ron is missing.* That simple phrase reverberated in his mind, pushing him into action. He grabbed Neville's arm and rushed across the dormitory without a second thought, urgency driving every step. Reaching Seamus and Dean's beds, Harry shook them both awake, his voice low but sharp.

"Ron's gone," he said quickly, watching as they blinked away sleep and shifted into alertness. Concern took over their groggy expressions. "We need to split up and find him."

Dean, still wiping the sleep from his eyes, sat up. "Gone? Where could he be?"

"I don't know," Harry replied tersely. "But we're wasting time."

Seamus pulled himself up from under his blanket, his face serious. "What's the plan?"

"Dean, take the west side of the castle. Seamus, check the east. Cover the classrooms, the hallways—everywhere he might've gone. I'm going to wake up the girls and get them on it too."

The boys nodded, throwing on clothes quickly. Without wasting another second, Harry rushed out of the dormitory and down the corridor to the girls' quarters. His mind raced as fast as his legs, the weight of Ron's absence pressing on him.

He hammered on Hermione's door first, knowing she'd be the fastest to act. The door swung open, revealing Hermione, who looked ready to complain about the late-night intrusion. But the moment she saw Harry's expression, all irritation vanished.

"Ron's missing," Harry said, his voice urgent.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "What? How could—"

"No time to explain," Harry cut her off. "We need to search now."

He moved quickly to Lavender and Parvati's door, knocking harder than before. Lavender answered, bleary-eyed and confused.

"Harry?"

"Ron's missing," he repeated, his voice clipped, urgency dripping from every word.

Parvati appeared behind Lavender, her eyes growing wide as she took in the information. "What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later," Harry said, already thinking ahead. "You and Hermione start from the top floor and search down. Parvati, you go bottom to top."

Hermione had already grabbed her shoes, her face set in determination. "We'll find him, Harry."

Without hesitation, the girls moved, ready for the search. Harry, still thinking of where else Ron could be, sprinted down the hall toward McGonagall's office. He didn't know how long Ron had been missing, but every minute counted.

Reaching McGonagall's door, he knocked hard. A few moments passed before it opened, revealing the professor still in her nightgown, her eyes half-closed with sleep.

Her stern expression softened into a familiar smile when she saw who it was. "You know, Potter, you can have me whenever you want. But could you *please* choose a better time for it? Sleep is a necessity."

Harry almost groaned in frustration. "Professor, Ron's missing."

Instantly, McGonagall's eyes widened, the fog of sleep gone. "What? Since when?"

"I'm not sure. I woke up, and he wasn't in his bed."

McGonagall's response was immediate. She grabbed her wand and muttered a spell under her breath, her clothes shifting into proper robes as her hair tightened into a neat bun. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she summoned her Patronus—a glowing white cat that appeared in the middle of the room, radiating a soft but powerful light.

Harry stared at the Patronus, an involuntary smile creeping onto his face despite the situation. The sight of it was calming, regal. *Of course, McGonagall's Patronus would be a cat,* he thought, charmed by the image.

The cat waited obediently as McGonagall gave it instructions. "Find Ron Weasley," she commanded, and the Patronus darted off into the shadows.

"We should start waking the others," McGonagall said, already stepping into the corridor. "Come with me."

They moved swiftly through the castle, knocking on professors' doors, raising the alarm. As they walked, McGonagall kept her composure, but Harry could feel the tension rolling off her in waves.

After a few minutes, McGonagall turned to Harry, her voice low and serious. "Do you know where Ron might have gone? Somewhere familiar?"

Harry frowned, trying to think. "There aren't many places we hang out. He's definitely not in the library…"

McGonagall nodded absently, but then her eyes darkened with concern. "Could he have gone to the Forbidden Forest?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "No… but wait," he said, the idea striking him suddenly. "There's a spot we use for meditating. It's below the west wing bridge. He might've gone there."

McGonagall's face remained stern but relieved. "Go. Check there immediately."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, shrunken object, which she expanded with a flick of her wand—Harry's Firebolt.

"This was meant to be your Christmas gift," she said quickly, handing it to him. "But desperate times and all that."

Harry grinned, taking the broom. "Thanks, Professor."

Without another word, Harry mounted the Firebolt and shot through the corridors, the broom responding instantly to his touch. He zoomed out to the west wing bridge, the cold night air biting against his face as he descended. When he reached the meditation spot, it was too dark to see clearly.

*Lumos Maxima*, he muttered, raising his wand and sending a beam of light across the ravine.

The light revealed something Harry wasn't prepared for—there, floating in the air, was Ron. His body hovered in a meditative position, his eyes closed, while a tornado of air swirled violently around him.

"What the hell?" Harry muttered, landing beside him.

"Ron! Wake up!" Harry yelled, but Ron remained completely still, as if trapped in his own bubble. The air swirling around him pushed Harry back with every attempt to get close.

Harry picked up a rock and threw it toward Ron, but the swirling wind hurled it back with force. "Damn it, Ron!" Harry muttered under his breath. He shot off a series of spells—*Jelly-Legs Jinx, Leg-Locker Curse, Wingardium Leviosa*—but none of them penetrated the dome of wind around Ron's body.

Minutes passed, and soon Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati arrived, followed by Neville, all staring in disbelief at what they were seeing.

"What… is he doing?" Parvati asked, eyes wide with shock.

"He's meditating," Harry explained, rubbing his temples. "We can't wake him up. Something's holding him there."

"None of our spells are getting through," Hermione added, stepping closer to inspect. "But maybe a diagnostic spell can give us some answers."

Harry nodded. "Do it."

Hermione raised her wand and cast the diagnostic spell, a glowing set of magical data appearing in the air. "It's showing a continuous spike in his magic," she said, studying the readings. "And his body temperature is holding at 15 degrees."

Harry's mind raced. "He must've been trying to keep his meditation going by controlling the wind around him. He's using the wind to keep himself cold, keeping his body in the meditative state."

Neville nodded, understanding. "Maybe something physical disturbed him, and the wind is repelling it."

"Wait, what meditative state?" Lavender asked, confused.

Harry quickly explained their morning meditations, which made Lavender look more confused. "Why didn't your spells hit him, then?"

Hermione's eyes lit up with realization. "He's drawing magic in from the air, just like we tried this morning. He's probably absorbing our spells as energy, pulling them into his own magic."

Parvati cringed, folding her arms. "So he's just… *asleep* in there?"

They all stared at Ron's hovering figure in disbelief.

"Pretty much," Harry muttered, frustrated.

He glanced at the swirling air and thought hard. He needed to do something that could break through Ron's defenses—something that would force him out of the meditation. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tapping into his own magic. He mimicked what Ron had done—forming a stable cold barrier on his skin and manipulating the wind around him.

Focusing, Harry shaped the wind into a sharp spike and sent it flying toward Ron's shoulder.

The wind sliced through Ron's defenses, hitting him with enough force to jolt him awake. His eyes flew open, and the swirling wind disappeared instantly.

Ron groaned, holding his shoulder where a small cut had appeared. "What… what happened?"

Neville was quick to catch him as he fell forward, disoriented.

"No time for that now," Harry said, pulling Ron to his feet. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey."

With Neville's help, they hoisted Ron onto the Firebolt and rushed to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey immediately started healing the wound, casting spell after spell to ensure Ron's recovery.

As the professors arrived, Harry noticed something strange—Quirrell wasn't among them. *Thank you, Quirrellmort,* Harry thought darkly. *You've taken the blame in just the right way tonight.* The absence of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had given Harry the perfect cover story for Ron's injury.

Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, his presence commanding the room's attention. Harry looked up at him for the first time up close, feeling the full weight of the headmaster's stature. He was taller and more imposing than Harry had ever realized.

"What happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his voice soft but firm.

Harry stuck to the story. "I found him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He was unconscious and bleeding."

Snape, his dark robes billowing behind him, sneered at Harry. "A hundred points from Gryffindor, and detention for both Potter and Weasley."

Harry gritted his teeth. "I saved him. If I hadn't gone, he'd have bled out."

"And it wasn't your place to go searching in the Forbidden Forest," Snape shot back. "You had no business there."

Dumbledore raised a hand, cutting through the argument. "Enough. A hundred points to Gryffindor for Harry's bravery, but he will still serve detention."

Harry bit back a retort and nodded.

Professor Flitwick frowned thoughtfully. "What could've hurt him, though? The edge of the forest is supposed to be safe."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "The cut was deep and precise—like a pincer."

At that, Hagrid perked up. "Remember, Professor McGonagall, I said something's been hurtin' the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest."

A murmur spread through the room; worry etched on everyone's faces. Harry, however, thanked his luck again for Quirrelmorts timing.

With the situation under control, Dumbledore turned to Harry. "You've done well, Harry. Now, go and rest."

Harry nodded and returned to the Gryffindor common room, where his friends were waiting by the fireplace. He collapsed between Hermione and Lavender, his head pounding from the night's events.

"Is Ron okay?" Hermione asked, concern lacing her voice.

"He'll be fine," Harry reassured them. "We'll talk to him tomorrow."

The group exhaled collectively, visibly relieved. As they settled back, Harry rubbed his temples, the tension of the night catching up to him.

"What did the professors say?" Parvati asked.

Harry explained how the professors believed Ron had been injured by something in the Forbidden Forest that had been attacking unicorns. The group reacted with outrage, especially at the thought of a creature hurting something so pure.

"Why are you all so worked up about unicorns?" Harry asked, confused.

Neville, Lavender, and Parvati exchanged serious looks. "Unicorns are sacred, Harry," Lavender said. "Only the darkest creatures would harm them."

Hermione added, "In *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*, it says unicorns emit an aura of purity. When you see one, you just *know*."

Harry leaned back, thinking. "I wonder if I can create an aura for myself—one that screams danger or innocence."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Stop being narcissistic."

Harry blinked, caught off guard. "How'd you know I was thinking that?"

Hermione smirked. "The grin on your face gave it away."

Harry sighed, standing up. "I'm going to bed. This has been a long night."

With that, they all followed suit, retreating to their dorms for much-needed sleep. Despite the chaos of the night, Harry's mind was already turning over new plans for tomorrow.

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