Harry looked through the textbooks at the medical library. It was an old building, almost a quaint reminder of what colleges looked like many years ago, but he had little inclination to enjoy the atmosphere.

He walked down another row of shelves, his pace quickening, realizing that he might have run out of additional material to find. He got to the end of the shelf, realizing that if there were additional sources here, he would have seen him.

He stood there for a moment, realizing his defeat. More modern journals had nothing, as did every corporate source he could think of. Every contact he had talked to, every doctor he had met, all had told him the same thing, that this was irreversible, that he would have this body for the rest of his life.

He put a feminine hand to his face, rubbing the only part of him that truly remained and shook his head, looking down at his body. He hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to have a woman's body below the neck. He swore to himself he'd do everything he could to get her original body back and now he fulfilled that promise just not on the way he had hoped.