Girls’ Changing Room – 1 – New Girl by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021

Over two decades have passed since the defeat of Voldemort. It’s time for a new influx of students at Hogwarts, which this year include Luna and Rolf Scamander’s twins, Lysander and Lorcan. As is usual at the school of witchcraft and wizardry, things are not what they seem. With apologies for applying a considerable amount of artistic license to these (and other) characters, let the adventure begin.

-oOo-

Professor Minerva McGonagall looked up from the pile of correspondence on her desk and let out a heartfelt sigh. The Ministry of Magic had been a bunch of incompetent buffoons while You-know-who was alive. It now seemed they had the full intention of filling the vacuum formed by his passing with new and ever more inventive ways of interfering with life. Kingsley Shacklebolt was in almost every way a better Minister for Magic than Cornelius Fudge had ever been, but unfortunately that included his capacity for generating red tape.

Minerva stood slowly and eased her aching bones over to the window, as much to give her eyes and brain a rest as to allow her blood pressure a chance to settle. She didn’t much care for her office — it was too large and too far removed from the everyday running of the school — but it had its perks, one of which was the view.

The highest of the nested turrets that made up the headmaster’s office possessed a window that looked out over the lake. Within its scope, to the right, the panorama reached across the castle towards the forbidden forest. Of all the many views Hogwarts had to offer, this was her favourite, and it never failed to calm her.

She caught sight of three figures walking down the path from the forest towards the covered bridge. The Hogwarts’ Express wasn't due for a couple of hours yet, so why anyone should be on school grounds at this hour was beyond her.

Two children, her keen eyes informed her — the degree to which they resembled each other evident even from this distance, so most likely twins — and one adult, a woman with strikingly pale hair and an oddly familiar distracted manner about her.

For once Minerva had no need of her mind's automatic filing system. It must have been fourteen years since she'd last laid eyes on the young lady, but certain students you couldn't help but remember, especially those who had been present during such turbulent times. Minerva hurried out of her office, the Ministry correspondence momentarily forgotten.

The staircase down from the headmaster’s office was long, though, and genuine hurrying a luxury for younger bones. It took her some minutes to make her way down to the courtyard in front of the clock-tower entrance, by which time her visitors had arrived. The young — well everyone was young these days — woman crouched beside her children pointing up at the massive mechanism. Her two boys — identical in every way except their manner — followed her finger with their gaze, one with genuine interest, the other with a somewhat sullen and distracted air.

"Luna Lovegood Scamander!" Minerva managed to speak the whole name without losing her smile. She wasn’t sure she approved of this practice among younger people of combining surnames, but life was change. If you didn’t allow for that, you’d ossify, and fossils had no place in a living world, except maybe as relics of the past.

Perhaps that’s what she had become — a dusty souvenir of a time long gone. A memory to be taken out and cherished when time allowed. The last time she'd seen Luna was at her wedding to Rolf Scamander nearly a decade and a half earlier. Like every other young student of her past, she was getting on with her life, which was as it should be. Besides, running Hogwarts kept her impossibly busy, so where would she find the time?

"It is so lovely to see you again!" She completed her greeting.

"Hello Professor McGonagall," the young woman's familiar lilting voice melted away the years between them. "It's quite lovely to be seen. I'm sorry for the intrusion, but we missed the train. My fault I’m afraid. I caught sight of a snorkack with an unusually straight horn and lost track of the time chasing after it. So we apparated here instead. I took the boys to see the thestrals, I hope you don't mind."

"How could I possibly mind?" The professor's elderly face creased even further into its rare smile. "But I do wish you'd call me Minerva."

"Well you are still a professor, aren't you? So I think I'd rather not."

It was just Luna's way. The two women embraced briefly, then Minerva rather courageously crouched down to look at the two boys. She would probably need her wand to pull herself upright again, but there were some things you just had to do.

"So which of you is Lorcan and which is Lysander?" She asked, recalling their names from the enrolment forms. She'd been expecting the twins of course, but seeing Luna as well was a surprise bonus, not to be wasted, but that didn't mean she should ignore the two new arrivals.

“I’m Lysander,” the brighter of the two piped up. “This is Lorcan. He’s my younger brother.”

“By twelve minutes,” Lorcan grumbled.

“Twelve minutes is still twelve minutes,” Lysander said cheerfully. “Don't mind him, he's always like this. That clock is amazing!”

Minerva’s attention had been captured by the younger of the twins though. There was something about him, a deep sadness that was reminiscent of the pain she'd once seen in Luna’s eyes.

“It doesn't interest you at all though does it?” she asked Lorcan.

The young boy held the professor's eye for a moment before shrugging and drifting off to gaze into the ruined fountain. The school had decided not to repair it after the Battle for Hogwarts, preferring to leave it as a reminder of the event and a memorial to those who'd given their lives that day. It held a pool of still water in which a few hardy fish continued to survive.

Luna offered a hand which Minerva gratefully accepted, raising herself back upright without the assistance of magic for once.

"He reminds me of you when you first came to the school," the elderly professor said.

"I know what you mean, but it's not the same. He couldn't see them — the thestrals I mean."

Luna had, at a young age, watched her mother die when one of her magical experiments went horribly wrong. It was said that only those who had witnessed death, particularly of someone close, could see the otherwise invisible creatures.

"He still has a haunted look about him. Hag-ridden they used to call it."

"How is Hagrid?" Luna asked in a not quite non sequitur.

"Oh, much the same as usual. Getting older as are we all. He'll be heading down to Hogsmeade shortly, to meet the first-years off the train."

"I was hoping he might take the boys with him. That first ride across the Black Lake is quite magical and I wouldn't want them to miss it."

"I'm sure he'd be delighted. Why don't we walk down to his hut? It's only a little way, and I could do with the fresh air and exercise."

Luna gathered her boys, Lysander, who was altogether too close to the great swinging pendulum for her liking and Lorcan, lost as ever in his own reflection in the still water. Together they made their way across the covered bridge — which had been rebuilt after the final battle — and down the hill towards Hagrid's modest home.

"Headmistress. An unexpected pleasure." Hagrid met them at the door. "And Luna Lovegood, as I live and breathe! Come on in. Excuse the mess. Oh, and who might these fine young men be?"

Introductions were made once Professor McGonagall had chided Hagrid for using her title. She preferred professor, feeling that headmistress somehow held less gravitas. Then Luna made her request, bringing a wide grin to Hagrid's face, not that you could see much of it under his massive growth of beard.

"Well, you're just in time," he said to the boys. "I was about to head down to th’ boathouse to get th' boats ready for th' evening. Perhaps you lad's wouldn't mind helping me."

Lysander reacted with typical eagerness and Lorcan with equally typical indifference. It took Hagrid a few minutes to find the boathouse keys in all his clutter, but a few short minutes later he was heading down towards the lake with his two young charges in tow.

The two women headed back up to the castle, Luna taking Minerva's arm in a companionable way, that incidentally offered a small amount of support during the climb back to the bridge. Luna always had been wiser than most people gave her credit for.

"So, you're still head professor here," Luna said with her slightly distracted air. "I wondered if you might be ready to take a rest."

"The job needs doing, and there aren't so many who'd be prepared to take it on. Even after all these years, it still feels like I'm just filling in for Albus until he comes back. He left big shoes to fill and most days I can only manage by kidding myself it'll only be for a while longer."

"You're probably a better choice for these less troubled times though." Luna's words seemed distant and distracted, as though she were saying them while her mind was elsewhere.

"It's Lorcan, isn't it?" Professor McGonagall showed herself as capable as the young woman beside her of suddenly switching topics. "You're worried about him."

"I've always been worried about him. He's carried some hidden weight on his shoulders ever since he was old enough to know it was there."

"But now he's away from home for the first time…"

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I was hoping you'd keep an eye on him, see if you can find a way to help him."

"Of course I will."

"He's always found it difficult to be different. I've tried to tell him it's okay, but he always tries to hide it."

"How is he different?"

"I don't know. He's very good at hiding it. Maybe you'll have better luck at finding out and if you do, maybe you could take whatever steps you think will help him come to terms with what it is that's troubling him. I'd take it as a great kindness."

They arrived back at the clock-tower entrance. After a short, awkward pause, Luna spoke again.

"Well, I should be going. I have an article to write on a snorkack with an uncrumpled horn. Daddy finds it hard to put together enough good material for the Quibbler these days."

"I’ll walk you out,” Minerva replied, then as much out of concern as reluctance to see her former student leave so soon, she added, “How is Xenophilius?"

"Not well. Azkaban was hard on him. I don't think he'll ever get over the experience, though he insists he deserved it for what he nearly did to Harry."

"He shouldn't be so hard on himself. I can't imagine any parent acting differently under the same circumstances. "

"Harry told him as much, but it only seemed to make him feel worse."

"I'm sorry. Do give him my kind regards when you see him, won't you?"

The walk through Hogwarts’ labyrinthine ways passed all too quickly. They stood on the training grounds with the short path to Merlin’s Gate ahead of them.

"Of course I will. It was very nice to see you again professor."

"Will you not stay long enough to say hello to Neville? I believe he's in Greenhouse One preparing for the first years." She indicated the path to their right.

"I'd better not. We're both happily married now, and it would be a shame to risk confusing that with old feelings. You'll pass on my greetings though."

"Of course. It was good to see you again, Luna. Do visit again when you can."

"Thank you professor, I will."

Minerva watched as Luna made her way to the gate, drawing her wand as she went. She had barely stepped through portal before she traced a complicated pattern in the air. A moment later, her body distorted and swirled about, disappearing into nothingness.

-oOo-

It wasn't until some hours later that Professor McGonagall had her next encounter with either of the twins. Last minute preparations for the welcome feast had kept her occupied until they were all seated in the Great Hall, after which protocol dictated that the students be left to enjoy themselves without interference from the teaching staff.

Lysander's quick wit and inquisitive mind earned him a place in Ravenclaw, much to his delight, but the Sorting Hat had other ideas for Lorcan. First it embarrassed him by sitting silently on his head for a full three minutes, muttering nonsense into his mind.

"Hmm, a good brain — no doubt about that — but troubled. Then there's that to consider of course. Unusual in wizarding kind, but not unheard of. Too distracted to have much of a mind for studying, I think, even if you do have the capacity. You'll need friends — people who will be understanding and sympathetic and supportive. Well I suppose that decides it then…

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Lorcan's habitually downcast face lit up with shock and outrage. The entire hall fell silent as the young boy stood up and removed the hat from his head. He wanted to throw it down in the dirt and storm out of the room, but he knew how childish an act that would be. Instead he placed the hat gently on the chair he'd just vacated and walked slowly through the silence towards the Hufflepuff table. He refused to look up, neither at the teachers' surprised expressions nor at his brother, for fear of the disappointment he felt sure he would see there.

His fellow Hufflepuffs sensed his despondency and gave him all the room he needed. A gentle touch from one or two and a quiet, "Let us know when you're ready to talk," from an attractive girl his own age who'd been sorted five minutes earlier.

He appreciated their discretion but hated that he found himself fighting back tears over their kindness. He sat through the rest of the sorting ceremony in silence, allowing Professor McGonagall's welcoming address to wash over him unheard. It wasn't particularly memorable. Dumbledore had the reputation for adding a little eccentricity to the proceedings, but that wasn't McGonagall's style at all, so she limited her words to a brief welcome and a few essential notices before announcing the commencement of the feast.

Lorcan sat staring at his empty plate, ignoring the mountains of food suddenly weighing down the table. He sat in silence while all around him cheerful, if somewhat subdued, conversation drifted about him. There was a kindness to the words shared, nothing challenging, all thoughtful observations. It was restful, a little like being at home and listening to his parents.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" The girl who'd spoken to him earlier asked quietly.

"I'm not that hungry," he replied. He didn't particularly want to talk, but she was only being friendly.

"You didn't want to be in Hufflepuff, did you?"

Does anyone? The words rose to his lips unbidden, but he caught them just in time, aware of how hurtful they would sound. He swallowed and tried again. "I expected to go into Ravenclaw with my brother." It was a little lame as an excuse for his mood, but it was all he could think of at short notice. Maybe he didn't have the wit to be in Ravenclaw after all.

"Well, I'm sure the Sorting Hat had its reasons. I hear it's made some unusual choices over the years, but they say it's never made a wrong one. And you know, Hufflepuff really is a nice place to belong. I know you can't see it now, but I hope you will in a while.

"I'll leave you alone now — I can see that's what you want — but if ever you want to talk, just come and find me. I'm Anneka, Anneka Peasbottom."

"Lorcan Scamander," Lorcan replied, taking her offered hand. He felt like he owed her something more. "And thank you for trying. It's just… I don't know, just too much right now."

He’d slipped out of the hall a short while later, and so had missed Professor McGonagall's final announcement ending the feast and sending the first years off to their dorms with their house prefects. It wasn't until some hours later as Minerva was taking a late night stroll around the castle that she noticed the figure sitting by the ruined fountain.

She pursed her lips and armed herself with a few choice rebukes. A student out of bed on the first night of term was not a good start. As she approached, she recognised the familiar features and softened her expression.

"Lorcan?"

The boy continued to stare at the water, but he couldn't not respond, "Why Hufflepuff?" He asked. "Could things be any worse?"

"There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff!" Minerva bristled at the suggestion. "There's many a famous witch and wizard has come from Hufflepuff."

"Name one."

"Well, there's your great grandfather, Newton Scamander, for one. I doubt there's a witch or wizard alive would question his courage,"

"Then why did the stupid Sorting Hat put him in Hufflepuff?" Lorcan spat with outrage.

"Because for all his bravery, Newt's compassion for all living things defined him more.

"Nymphadora Tonks was another. Quite the notorious prankster while she was here. Not at all the shy, retiring goody-two-shoes you you seem to associate with Hufflepuff house. She stood as bravely as any Gryffindor at the Battle of Hogwarts — died as bravely as most too — but yet again the most telling thing about her was her kindness and humanity, the love she had for someone who felt himself beyond it.

"I'll give you one more while I'm about it. Cedric Diggory, the first victim of He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named following his return, and perhaps the most popular boy in the school in his day."

"But they never seem to achieve anything!"

"That's not true which you'd realise if you took a moment to think. Hufflepuff embodies the values of loyalty, kindness and friendship above all other things, which means that, while your house-mates will compete in an event for the sake of taking part, they won't seek to win at any cost, and especially if it undermines relationships with more ambitious individuals from other houses. There is a nobility to Hufflepuff that transcends all the other houses, and it's all the more notable for remaining unseen.

"Now, perhaps you'd be so good as to tell me what are you doing out here, boy?" Lorcan seemed to flinch. Minerva's words had been gentle enough, she was sure, so why…?

"I'm sorry Professor McGonagall, I lost track of time."

"You most certainly did. It's past midnight. Come, I'll take you to your dormitory."

Lorcan stood obediently and fell into step behind the professor. He followed her past the hospital wing and across the quad towards a large tower in the far corner, but before they reached it a grinding noise caused them to falter. Minerva paused at the entrance to the tower and frowned.

“It seems the castle has other ideas for us,” she said. “The Hufflepuff dormitory is downstairs from here, but as you can see, we don’t have that option.” She pointed at the staircase which had shifted to block their access to the kitchens. With no alternative, they headed up.

The stairs continued to shift as they climbed leaving Lorcan somewhat disoriented. The top of the flight emerged onto an upper corridor which the professor followed as though it had been her plan all along. About halfway down, the wall to their right began to rearrange itself, bricks shifting and moving out of the way to reveal a door.

"Well I never!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed under her breath. "I've not seen that door since the days of Dumbledore's Army."

"I don't understand, professor."

"This, young man," there it was again — that slightest of flinches. "This is the Room of Requirement. When it appears it's unwise to ignore it. It is late, but we can take a few minutes." She reached for the door handle but it refused to move under her hand. She turned to Lorcan. "I believe it's here for you."

"I'm sorry Professor McGonagall, but I really don't understand,"

"This room, child, remains hidden within the castle until it senses that it is needed, then it appears to those who most need it and provides for them whatever it is they require. It provided Harry Potter and his companions with a hidden place where they could train for the coming battle while Dolores Umbridge was temporarily making a complete dog’s dinnerof running the school. To my knowledge it hasn’t appeared to anyone since then. As it is presently refusing to open for me, the only alternative I can see is that it’s waiting for you, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

Lorcan stepped forward and twisted the great looping door handle. It turned easily and the heavy oak door swung inward with barely a sound. The young boy looked at the professor who gestured encouragement.

“It’s here for you, Lorcan. Though if you don’t mind, I’d like to satisfy my curiosity as well.”

Lorcan nodded and stepped into the room with the professor following.

The room was large and, for the most part, empty. At its very centre stood a free-standing full length mirror of the sort you might find in a wealthy person’s dressing room. The silvering had cracked and peeled in places from extreme age, but the heavy gilded frame was well cared for. Words had been carved in an arc across the top in some bizarre language.

“Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi?” Lorcan made a fair effort of pronouncing the unfamiliar syllables. “Does that even mean anything?”

“The words are written in English, but backwards, and the spacing is in the wrong place. what it actually says is…”

“I show… not your face… but your… heart’s desire?”

“Well aren’t you a sharp one? The Hat must have had a very strong reason for sorting you into Hufflepuff rather than Ravenclaw. So, Albus, this is where you put it. I always did wonder. Very clever though.”

“What do you mean? I mean what is it? What does it do?”

Instead of answering, Minerva gave the young lad an instruction. “Stand in front of the mirror and tell me what you see.” She was careful to avoid doing the same. The last time she had done so, she’d seen herself standing beside Albus Dumbledore. It had told her all she needed to know, that she felt out of her depth without her old friend. He had run the school with a calm equanimity she couldn’t hope to match, and there were so many things about being head teacher at Hogwarts that she had no idea how to do. Still there was no sense in wishing for something that could never be. She desperately longed to have Dumbledore alive again and back in control, but there was no conceivable way that could come to pass, so she might as well get on with making the best of the situation. What cannot be cured must be endured, as her mother had often told her.

Lorcan, in the meantime, had taken his place in front of the mirror and his face had turned quite ashen.

“What do you see, child?” Minerva asked.

“Can’t you see?” Lorcan’s voice dripped with mortification.

“Everyone who looks into the mirror sees something different,” Minerva said. “The last time I looked, I saw myself standing beside a very good friend I lost a great many years ago. But I’m keen to know what it shows you. Will you tell me, young man?”

This time she’d chosen her words deliberately and subtly emphasised the last one. She had growing suspicions which were confirmed by a frightened squeak from the boy.

“You’re lying. You can see, can’t you? You’re making fun of me.” Lorcan turned and ran from the room.

Minerva sighed and, despite her best intentions, stepped in front of the mirror. Albus Dumbledore, looking no older than the last time she’d seen him, stood beside her reflection, his habitual smile shining out from beneath his half moon spectacles.

“Oh Albus, I do wish you were here. You’d know far better than me what the lad needs.”

She turned to leave, and as she walked through the door, she could hear the bricks rearranging themselves. It seemed whatever the room had set out to do it had done it.

Except the sound of shifting brickwork ceased long before the doorway could have hidden itself. Professor McGonagall turned to look and her eyebrows shot up. She thought she’d grown accustomed to the castle’s unconventional ways, but apparently it was still capable of taking her by surprise. Perhaps the Room of Requirement was responding to her need. It certainly indicated she was on the right path.

She looked up and down the corridor trying to decide which way Lorcan had run. Downstairs for sure, but beyond that it was impossible to tell. The stones told her nothing. With an exasperated sigh, she reached for her cat form. At least that way she might have a chance of following a scent.

Her nose led her back to the Clock-tower Courtyard and the ruined fountain — an obvious destination when she thought about it. She watched the young boy sobbing quietly, an occasional tear falling from his chin to disturb his reflection in the fountain’s pool. She moved in close, silently, keeping hidden in the shadows until she stood in his line of sight, then she transformed back into her human self.

“What? Where did you…?”

“I’m an animagus,” Minerva said, “which means I can take on the form of an animal — in my case a cat. It gives me certain advantages when following people and approaching them unobserved.” She sat next to her quarry and offered a lacy handkerchief, which Lorcan took gratefully. “But that’s not why I chose to become one.”

Lorcan sniffled into the handkerchief and quieted. He continued to stare at his reflection, but Minerva sensed she had his attention.

“Becoming an animagus is difficult, time consuming and, if you’re not certain of what your doing, extremely hazardous. You’ll learn about the process in your third year when we’ll also tell you all about the risks and drawbacks as well. If by then you’ve shown yourself to be exceptionally talented at both potions and transfiguration, you may be offered the chance to become one yourself.

“I was fortunate enough to have Albus Dumbledore as my transfiguration professor.” Minerva let her eyes lose focus as she gazed back into the past. “He was very much as wise as he was a gifted and talented wizard. He sensed I was carrying a burden and believed my undergoing the change might help ease it.”

“Why was that?” Lorcan asked quietly.

Minerva took a breath. “I spent all my childhood helping keep my family’s secret…”

“What secret?” The professor arched an eyebrow and Lorcan quickly dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, I, I…”

“It’s all right. My parents are long gone now, so there’s no reason to keep the secret any more. If you’d asked me ten years ago I’d have struggled to respond, but there’s no harm now.

“My father was a Muggle, Lorcan. My mother loved him so much that she felt she could hide her magical ability from him and live a Muggle life, but when I was born and started showing signs of having magic, she was forced to tell him. After that they continued to keep the matter hidden from our Muggle neighbours and taught me to do the same. After my brothers were born and started to show signs of wizardry as well, it became my job to cover for them. By the time I reached Hogwarts, the habit of keeping secrets was so deeply a part of me, I couldn’t drop my guard. Professor Dumbledore felt that if I could step out of myself and become another creature it might afford me the freedom to relax.

“Neither of us was particularly surprised when my animagus form turned out to be a cat, since there is no other animal alive that embodies independence quite so well. Even now I only feel able to relax completely in my cat form.

“Now, though I'm sure our experiences are entirely different, I believe you have something hidden inside you straining to escape, and I'm pretty certain the mirror showed it to you. I think I might hazard a guess as to what it is, but I'd far rather you told me.”

Lorcan fell silent again and looked down at the still water in the broken fountain.

“I imagine she doesn’t look half so pretty reflected in this pool as she did looking back at you through the mirror.” the Professor said quietly.

The young man stiffened. She tightened her lips on the satisfied smile that came to her, keeping it hidden. She’d guessed right, but that didn’t mean she could afford to gloat about it. The boy — as much as he was a boy — needed careful handling.

"We all of us sense a difference between what's inside us and what we see around us, Lorcan. It's a natural part of life, but there are those of us for whom the feeling is overwhelming. I've already told you what it was for me, and the mirror has shown you what it is for you. Lorcan, there is no shame in seeking to match the two. Will you come with me now? I rather feel that the Room of Requirement hasn’t finished with you yet.”

Lorcan allowed himself to be led back to the same spot in the castle. The door was still there, but it had changed significantly. Instead of the tall oak entrance with its arched stone surround, a much smaller, more cheerful single door sat in the wall. It was painted a bright powder blue and over the top a sign read, “Girls’ Changing Room”.

“I can’t go in there!” Lorcan protested, then in response to McGonagall’s raised eyebrow he continued. “It’s for girls. I’m not a…”

“Are you not though? I mean on the outside I have to agree, but what do you feel in here?” She reached out a hand and placed it over Lorcan’s chest. “The room appeared for you. It showed you the Mirror of Erised which in turn showed you…”

“My heart’s desire.”

“Which was…?”

The walls were crumbling. It had taken time, but Lorcan was finally allowing his guard down.

“It showed me but different. I had long blond hair which reached to my waist, and a white dress with roses on it. My face was the same, nearly. Not a boy’s face, but me even so. It made me feel soft inside. But that’s just who I want to be isn't it? It's not who I actually am.”

“Are you so sure? This room is like the Sorting Hat and so many other enchanted things around the castle. It may surprise us with what it does, but somehow it knows better than we do what is best."

"But what if…"

"Lorcan, these opportunities don't come often enough to allow us the luxury of what ifs. It's frightening I know, and there are going to be doubts always, but you have to try."

"Will you come with me?"

"Much as I'm tempted, I think it's best that you enter alone. The room appeared for you, and when I came in with you last time, I disturbed you enough to cause you to run away."

"I wouldn't have understood what the mirror was showing me without you."

"If I hadn't been there the room would have found another way to convey its message. Lorcan, the room appeared for you, it changed itself into this for you, so I think it would be best for you to find out what it has for you on your own. If things don't work out and you decide you do need my help, I'll be waiting out here. After all, us girls do look out for each other, much like your fellow Hufflepuffs."

Lorcan gave the professor a hesitant but grateful smile, then trembling with trepidation, he reached for the door handle for a second time.

The room hadn't changed much. It was as big, but now, instead of the one single mirror standing in the middle, the walls were lined with them. Not magical this time, though it seemed wherever he looked Lorcan saw himself gazing back.

In the centre of the room stood a free-standing clothes rail, filled to capacity with all manner of girls' clothing., though there seemed to be neither rhyme nor reason to the distribution. Skirts, shorts, tops, dresses, a school uniform here, a party dress there. The only thing they seemed to have in common was that they were all in his size.

He'd never really considered dressing up as a girl before. For one, there hadn't been much opportunity. Occasionally he'd seen something of his mother's hanging in a closet, but for all the difference between himself and his twin, they still had a strong bond and he knew he'd never be able to hide something like that from Lysander. He'd been too ashamed to try before, but here was an invitation, a magical invitation no less. And Professor McGonagall had said there was nothing wrong in it.

He still felt uncertain, but at least brave enough to look through the clothes. He was alone in here thanks to the professor's sense of discretion. Then he caught sight of it, and once he'd seen it he could see nothing else.

It was a ball gown of the sort a young princess might wear. An intricately embroidered, close fitting bodice with dozens of tiny buttons fastening up the back and long, loose sleeves over a voluminous skirt — elegant folds of shimmering silk falling to below knee length. All in a warm golden yellow.

As Lorcan reached for it, all the misery he'd been carrying within him melted to wonder. The instant he touched it, the buttons down the back loosened and the dress fell from its hanger into his arms.

Until that moment it had all felt unreal, a dream he could never bring himself to believe, but now with the texture of the brocaded bodice in one hand and the smooth, almost liquid silk of the skirts in his other, he found himself finally waking to the reality. Without willing it, he arrived at a decision.

He looked around for somewhere to lay the dress safely and found a chair beside him. He would have sworn it hadn't been there a moment before, but then this was the Room of Requirement. He breathed a quiet thank you to who or whatever directed the room's actions and put the dress carefully aside.

He was less careful with his own clothes and may have torn off a button or two in his rush to strip down to his underwear. Wearing only his briefs, he reached for the dress only to find laying on top of it a pair of bloomers, a chemise and a selection of petticoats — enough to fill out the skirt — all in crisp white cotton and trimmed with the finest lace.

It felt like permission to go all the way, so with a furtive glance around him to ensure he was indeed alone, he stripped off the rest of his clothing and slipped into the deliciously cool undergarments.

The bloomers and petticoats needed tying in place with draw-strings, which was unusual but not complicated. In next to no time he had his undergarments settled into place and was ready for the dress. With the petticoats already billowing out about his thighs the only option seemed to be to burrow through from the underside.

It took all his self-control not to rush ahead, but some inbuilt instinct told him he needed to take care if he didn't want to crease the delicate fabric of the dress. Gathering the silk in loose folds, he lifted it over his head and slipped his arms through the sleeves. He had wondered if he'd be able to reach the buttons to fasten the dress, but the same magic that had peeled it open now secured him into it.

He'd never worn clothing that fit him so well. The weight of it all came as something of a surprise, but with the skirts flaring out around him it felt so right. He wondered if Professor McGonagall had felt half as complete the day she first transformed into a cat. It seemed incredible to imagine that anyone had ever felt like this, the complete and sudden loss of that immense burden was a release Lorcan had never expected to feel.

He giggled with delight, then giggled again when it struck him how long it had been since he'd last even smiled. The floorboards felt rough beneath his bare feet. He wouldn't quite feel complete until… He pushed his skirts gently behind him and looked around, and there beside the chair sat the perfect pair of matching boots. A slight heel — no more than an inch or so — fur lined and coloured to match the dress.

He scooped his skirts under him as he sat in what felt like the most natural action in the world. The layers of underclothes were like his own personal cushion. Smoothing out the full skirts so he could see past them, let alone reach, came as an added challenge, but with a little effort, he managed to pull on the boots. Again the room's magic took over and yards of laces looped back and forth through tiny hooks, tying his feet snuggly into place.

He stood and walked towards one of the many mirrors lining the walls. His reflection wasn't as pretty as that of the girl he'd seen earlier, but he still looked more like a girl than a boy. He could feel a certain part of his anatomy beneath all the layers, between his legs, and the joy that had filled him so recently began to crumble around the edges. So near and yet so far. He stared at his reflection and caught sight of the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. He so longed to see the reflection the Mirror of Erised had shown him. In truth he would have been happy enough to remain looking as he did there and then, if only he could be… complete.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall," he breathed, so quiet he almost couldn't hear himself. "Make me…" But he couldn't bring himself to end the verse. Most beautiful would be wonderful, but just to be a girl at all would be enough. The thought of it choked him.

The mirror in front of him swirled and changed, rearranging itself to show the image of a woman in Muggle clothing. She had flame red hair and a long face. Her eyes seemed haunted with painful memories and her mouth contorted subtly from time to time with a slight, sour twist. She looked out of the mirror, seemingly as surprised to see Lorcan as he was by her sudden appearance.

"What are you doing here?" She asked sharply.

"P-p-professor McGonagall," Lorcan stuttered. "She s-s-said…"

"I don't know who that is and I don’t much care for what she said. What are you doing here?"

"The R-r-room of R-requirement…" he tried a different tactic.

"You did see what was written above the door when you came in, didn't you?"

"Yes, but P-p-professor McGonagall…"

"What did it say?"

"But…"

"What did it say?!"

"Girls' changing room," Lorcan muttered.

"And are you a girl?"

"I…" Lorcan could feel the part of him that made him a boy. It stopped him from answering as he wanted.

"No, you are not!" The woman's eyes flared with anger.

"But…"

"But what? You are not a girl. What about that do you not understand?"

"It's just that Professor McGonagall said this was the Room of Requirement and that it appeared to me in response to my need."

"Well she must be mistaken mustn't she? Because this is the Girls' Changing Room and you are not a girl!"

Lorcan could feel tears leaking from his eyes despite his best efforts to hold them back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried so much. He bit his lip to stop it from quivering.

The woman in the mirror's sour expression softened a little at Lorcan's reaction. "All right," she said in a gentler voice. "You look very attractive in that dress, and I really don't mind what you choose to wear. You can keep it for all I care. Keep the whole lot of it." She waved a hand dismissively and, as if in response, the clothes rack in the centre of the room vanished along with everything on it. "It takes more than clothes to make you a girl though. No magic in this world can change your nature. Dress up all you want, but you'll still be a boy underneath, and the sooner you realise that the better off you'll be."

It was more than Lorcan could bear. He spun on his low heels and ran out of the room.

Minerva had been fighting impatience, wondering just how much longer Lorcan was going to spend in the room when the door flew open and a streak of yellow dashed past. From the direction it took it didn't take a genius to guess the youngster's destination. Having said that, it should have been obvious the first time. After all the boy hadn't been at Hogwarts long enough to know his way around.

She was curious to know what had upset him this time and decided to glance inside the room before following him. The room had other ideas though, and before she could reach for the handle, the bricks had folded over the door and swallowed it. Nothing remained but a smooth wall.

With a sigh, Hogwarts' headmistress turned towards the Clock-tower Courtyard for the umpteenth time that day.

The dress suited him and he made quite a pretty girl, Minerva reflected. At least he would if ever he could be persuaded to stop crying. He sat in a naturally girlish pose on the side of the fountain attempting, as before, to fill it with his tears.

Minerva approached silently from behind and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. She was getting too old for this sort of nonsense. She could feel her bed calling to her, but she couldn't yet; things like this weren't to be rushed. In time the sobs eased and Lorcan quieted. A short pause later and he was spilling out his anguish, telling of what he'd experienced.

Minerva waited until he'd finished, then waited a while longer. When it was evident he was spent, she ordered her thoughts.

"Dressed as a Muggle you say? And since when did a Muggle know anything about anything?" She managed to speak the words without sounding patronising, which was one piece of headmastery that she had managed to master. One of the most important aspects of dealing with children, especially when they were upset, was to make sure they didn't feel they were being talked down to. "Lorcan, the room appeared to you, so you had every right to be there."

"But she said…"

"I know what she said; you just told me. But like I told you, there's nothing to say she was right."

"But if the room was there for me, then why didn't it turn me into a girl? Why did it just give me these stupid clothes?"

"For one thing, count yourself fortunate that the room responded to you at all. One in a thousand students it'll appear to, perhaps one in ten thousand, and here it is appearing on your first day. For another, don't be so dismissive of what it's given you. Like every enchantment in this castle, the way it works may be obscure, but there's wisdom and good-will behind everything that comes from such things. And for one last thing, it's called the Room of Requirement. It gives you what you need, not what you want. The value of a thing is best learnt by fighting for it, and rarely learnt at all from just being gifted.

"Now, it's late, so let me do what I planned to do in the first place and take you to your bed."

Lorcan turned white. "I can't go dressed like this!" he exclaimed.

"And how would you rather go? Stripped to your underwear, which unless I miss my guess is quite as girly as the dress you're wearing?"

"My clothes…"

"Are in the Room of Requirement which has shut itself away. Alongside that, when your mother apparated you here, she neglected to make arrangements for your luggage. I did send her an owl before the feast, but I'm not expecting anything to arrive before tomorrow. Lorcan, I doubt anyone is awake but you, me and a few of the owls. There's no choice to it, now come."

-oOo-

The trek wasn’t as long as it had been the first time, but it gave Minerva a chance to observe the child beside her. Apart from his nervousness, he walked with far more poise and confidence dressed as he was than he had at any time she’d first seen him.

Once they’d reached the entrance to the Great Hall, they descended a flight of stairs, tickled the pear in a still life to open the door behind the painting that led to the kitchens, headed for a stack of barrels in the corner of a storeroom.

"Watch," Professor McGonagall instructed as she counted her way up and along the stacked barrels to a particular one which she then tapped with a short rhythm. Tap tap, taptaptap. "Just think 'Helga Hufflepuff' as you tap this barrel. Be careful to choose the correct barrel and use the correct rhythm or you'll be treated to a face full of vinegar."

The barrel opened up to reveal a low, rough, earthy passage. It would be difficult for Lorcan to negotiate dressed as he was, but not impossible.

"The entrance used to be behind the painting we came through," Minerva continued, "but during the time when He-who-will-not-be-named returned to power, it was deemed a little too insecure, so we changed it to this.”

"Why don't you call him by name?" Lorcan asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"You know who," Lorcan said patiently. "That's the second time today you've called him He-who-will-not-be-named. Are you afraid of him?"

"Not at all. At least not any more. I just don't think he deserves to be remembered. We'll remember the dreadful things he did and learn from them, I hope, but if we can forget his name within a generation or two, I'll be glad of it."

"Who's out here?" A face like a withered prune appeared in the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. "Oh, Professor McGonagall, I'm so glad you're here. We're missing a student, and what's more we appear to have something of a complication with dormitories. Oh, hello!" The number of wrinkles doubled as the face turned in Lorcan's direction and split into a welcoming grin. "And who would you be, young lady?"

"Lorcan, I'd like to introduce you to your head of house, Professor Sprout. Professor Sprout, this is Lorcan Scamander. He's had something of an adventure this evening and I imagine he's very tired. I know I am."

"Oh my, an adventure! Yes, I can see that. Well best we find you a bed then. Only it's like I said Minerva. Never happened before, but we've too many boys. They're all full already, and the girls the same nearly. We've filled all but one, and that one has just the one girl on her own. Probably as well that, because half an hour ago an enormous rack of clothes appeared in the room with her. Filled half the room it did. Gave Anneka quite the fright, though she's all right otherwise. It's just that we don't have space for another boy and… Oh!" She stopped talking as a series of twos added together in her head, combining to an unlikely total.

"Who did you say was the other student?" Minerva asked.

"Anneka Peasbottom," Professor Sprout responded, still trying to work through the implications of the thought that had interrupted her flow.

"Oh," Lorcan started. "I know her. She spoke to me at the feast. She’s nice."

"Well that seems to settle the matter, at least for now," Minerva said. "Since you already know her and since the rest of your clothes seem to have decided they belong in her room, I suppose that's the place where we'll put you."

Lorcan was confused. "I thought you said my things wouldn't arrive till tomorrow."

"Not your things from home. Your things from earlier, from the changing room."

"Oh!"

"Unless I miss my guess, you'll find some appropriate sleepwear on that rack as well as at least one uniform. I trust you'll behave as a young lady should while you're sharing with Anneka?"

Lorcan didn't know quite how to respond. A nod seemed to be expected, so he gave one.

"Then I'll leave you in the care of Professor Sprout. She can help you get undressed and into bed. You'll wear a uniform tomorrow or the closest thing you can find. I'll expect you in my office after breakfast and then we'll see what's to be done."

With that she turned and walked back the way they had come leaving Lorcan with the cheerful Professor Sprout who seemed to have rediscovered her smile. Her eyes swam with unanswered questions, but she kept them to herself as she showed Lorcan how to hold his skirts so as to preserve his modesty while at the same time avoiding damaging his clothes on the rough passage. He followed her into a cheerful little room filled with plants and moonlight.

"It's a little late to do much more than show you to bed," she said, "so the grand tour will have to wait for morning, as will the questions. The dormitory you'll be sharing with Anneka is over this way. Once we're in the room we should probably keep quiet so as not to disturb your room mate, all right?"

"I suppose. I do have one question though. I hope it's not rude to ask."

"Well you have my curiosity piqued, young man." Lorcan flinched despite himself. It didn't go unnoticed. The stout professor softened her voice. "Ask away, my dear."

"It's just, if you don't mind me saying, you and Professor McGonagall seem so very old. Are you really teachers here at Hogwarts?"

Professor Sprout chuckled despite herself. "I suppose it goes with the job. Teaching has a sort of pickling effect, especially on us ladies. We don't look like much in the end, but we keep on going for a very long time. Professor McGonagall, as I'm sure you're aware, is the head of the school. She doesn't teach much, and old age and wisdom do lend themselves to the stresses of her job quite well. As for me, I retired from teaching a few years ago. Professor Longbottom teaches herbology now, and he's very good at it. He and your mother used to be rather close. I felt it was a bit of a shame things didn't last between them, but Neville always did prefer a settled life and your mum wanted adventure.

"I am sorry, my mind wanders often and quite freely these days. When I retired from teaching, the school was good enough to let me stay on as head of Hufflepuff house, which is something I can manage very well, and I do enjoy it.

"Come on sweetie, let's get you into bed. We can talk more tomorrow if you feel like it."

They made their way through to a large dorm room with five beds in it, only one of which was occupied. Anneka's blond tresses showed above the deep, quilted bedspread, but little else.

The professor unfastened the many buttons at the back of Lorcan's dress and helped him step out of it. He chose the bed furthest from Anneka's, hoping it might help her feel less threatened once she discovered who she was sharing with. While he unfastened the petticoats and laid them on the end of his bed, Professor Sprout hung his dress back on the rack and hunted out suitable bedtime attire, eventually settling on a white cotton nightdress, trimmed with lace. She held it up for his approval or otherwise and brought it over in response to his vigorous nod.

He slipped out of the chemise and allowed her to drop the nightdress over the top of his head. While he settled into what must have been the most comfortable bed he'd ever encountered, the professor hunted through the rack again and came back with a Hogwarts uniform. The cloak was trimmed in Hufflepuff yellow. The blouse wasn't much different from a boys shirt, apart from the buttons being on the opposite side and the collar being slightly smaller and rounder. There the similarities ended though. From the waist down, instead of trousers and socks, he had a knee length black skirt to look forward to along with a pair of dark tights and a pair of patent leather t-bar shoes.

He shrugged. Having climbed into bed, all he could think of was sleep. The clothes he would have to wear the next day, along with the issues they would raise, were a problem for the morning. He opened his mouth wide in a decidedly unladylike yawn and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Girls’ Changing Room by Maeryn Lamonte
	It took me a while to rewrite the conversation between Lori and Lysander. I’m still not sure I’m totally happy with it, but here goes. I won’t give a preamble here as the previous chapter is somewhere around here for you to read if you haven’t got to it yet. Without further ado, here’s chapter two.

-oOo-

He woke into a pleasant drowse. The room around him was filled with golden light and as his eyes swam into focus he found a pretty face smiling down at him. He jerked upright, pulling the bedclothes in front of him, staring back with a panicked expression.

"Morning sleepyhead. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shock you. I was a little disappointed when they put me in here on my own last night. Then your clothes turned up and I did hope I might have a room-mate after all, and here you are."

She jumped off the bed. Her own nightdress wasn't so different from his, he noticed.

"You do know I'm a boy, don't you?" He said, resolving to be honest from the start.

"You don't look much like one." Anneka presented him with a hand mirror which he took eagerly, hoping for some additional evidence of change.

There wasn't any, just himself wearing a frilly white nightdress. He had to admit with his hair down to his shoulders and his youngish features he did look quite a lot like a girl, but from his perspective, it was just the usual him in unusual clothes.

"We met at the feast," he said, hoping to jog her memory.

"Of course we did, silly. You're Lorcan Scamander, the boy who didn't want to be in Hufflepuff." He let out a sigh, relieved that she hadn’t just assumed he was a girl. "May I brush your hair?"

"I beg your pardon?" It was such an unusual request under the circumstances.

"My mother gave me this brush," she said holding up a hairbrush that matched the style of the hand mirror. "'A hundred strokes a day,' she always told me. 'Fifty in the morning and fifty before bed and you'll always have beautiful hair on your head.' It sounds kind of silly, I know, but would you let me?"

Lorcan shrugged and swung his legs out of bed, turning his back to his room mate. She was being friendly and it seemed right to show willing in return.

The brush caressed his head, and he drifted into a dreamlike state. The worries of the morning which had been trying to crowd into his mind dissolved into nothingness and he allowed the sensation to fill him.

"Now look."

It took him a while to realise that Anneka had stopped her ministrations. He took the mirror from her hands and looked into it. It was still him, still wearing the nightdress, still with his usual dirty blonde hair, except it was longer now, and fuller, and shinier.

"How?"

"My mother's a hair witch. She enchants hairbrushes like this for a living. Of course the enchantments on the ones she sells fade after a while. She made this one especially for me and she says it should last forever."

"Perhaps I could brush yours for you?" Lorcan asked.

"Would you? That would be very kind."

She handed the brush across and turned her back to him. He set about his task, finding it almost as relaxing to do as to be done for. "Do I need to count?" he asked.

"No, it'll let you know when you're done."

"So, what made you think this was a good thing to do to a boy?"

"It is though, isn't it? I mean you seem to be all into girl clothes, and I figured you'd look better if your hair matched."

"This wasn't really my idea," Lorcan said. "The clothes, you know?"

"What do you mean."

So Lorcan told her of the previous night's events. He had nearly finished his story when he had a sense that there was no need to continue brushing. He stopped and handed her the brush, then the mirror. His efforts had a lesser effect on her hair, but it had noticeably more shine and bounce.

She put the mirror and brush to one side and looked Into his eyes. Then she put her arms around his neck and held him close. "It's going to be okay," she said.

"How can you know?"

She pulled back from him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. She didn't give him a choice, cupping his chin and lifted his face till he was looking at her.

"I don't know, not for sure. What I do is I choose to believe. It's not magic; my Muggle dad says it's something else. Faith he says. When you believe good things can happen, you find ways to make them happen. I'm choosing to believe you'll get what you want, whatever some nasty Mrs Muggle in a mirror has to say on the matter."

"But the Room of Requirement should have given me what I needed. Why didn't it turn me into a girl? That's what I need?"

"Is it though? Maybe what you needed was to leave your old life behind. Maybe what you needed was to be pushed into living in a way that's right for you. Maybe what you needed was to find a friend who likes you no matter what."

“You mean you?”

“Yeah.”

"Why would you? You don't know me."

"I know you didn't say something hurtful about Hufflepuff last night even though you wanted to. I know you were polite even when you were hurting. I know you offered to brush my hair when you didn't have to, and you trusted me enough to tell me your story. I think that’s enough to know I want to be your friend."

"Even dressed like this?"

"Well actually now you mention it, we ought to get into our uniforms if we don't want to miss breakfast or be late for our first lesson. The dorms all have one bathroom to share between occupants. We're lucky getting to share ours between two instead of five. You go first. If you need any help, just give me a yell."

Lorcan's stomach growled at the mention of breakfast. Having not eaten the previous evening, he was truly ravenous. He needed no persuasion and ran into the bathroom.

He felt the need for a shower but, aware of the time and that Anneka had to get ready too, he kept it short. The soap in the girl's bathroom was scented, which he decided he rather liked, and the towels were soft and oh so fluffy, and that he definitely did like.

He switched places with his room-mate and dressed quickly while she took considerably longer to bathe. It was as well. He encountered a few complications with his new underwear and needed the extra time to untangle unfamiliar straps and figure out where everything was supposed to go. He had everything on except the tights and shoes by the time his room mate emerged. Anneka paused long enough to give him some tips on how to pull on the nylons without damaging them, then set about dressing herself. They were both ready at the same time and made their exit from the dormitory together.

-oOo-

Professor Sprout was waiting for them along with a number of other Hufflepuffs. She'd apparently said something to those waiting because they all looked at him, none of them unkindly, and all welcomed him.

One of them — a boy named Toby — asked what they should call him because Lorcan didn't really fit with how he was dressed.

He bit his lip. "I hadn't really thought about it," he said.

"Well, as soon as you decide, let us know," Toby said. The rest nodded. They seemed a little wary of him, the way most people are wary of something new they didn't understand, but they seemed friendly enough.

They exited the common room with Lorcan and Anneka bringing up the rear.

"One of the good things about being in Hufflepuff," she murmured in his ear. "They'll back you up no matter what, even if they don't get what you're about."

"I did tell you this isn't my idea, didn’t I?" Lorcan said indicating his skirt and tights.

"Yes, I remember. And you told me the whole story. They haven't heard it yet, so they don't know where you’re coming from, but they're still ready to stand up for you. Be prepared when we get to the Great Hall. You probably won't get the same response from the rest of the school. Slytherin especially might be unkind,"

"Maybe you should stay away from me then. I mean if they're going to pick on me, I'd hate for the same to happen to you just because you're with me."

"Nope, not going to happen." She tucked her arm through his and held it tight. "We're friends now. We share whatever happens, good or bad."

And that was how they entered the hall, which was probably just as well.

The rumour mill had been working, and whether the stories came from half overheard conversations between teachers or ghosts, or any of a number of less likely sources, everyone seemed to have heard of the new Hufflepuff boy in a dress. Lorcan's arrival at the entrance was heralded by a great jeer with most of the noise coming from the Slytherin table.

All he wanted was to turn and leave, but Anneka held him firmly where he stood.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Helping," she replied through a substantially forced relaxed grin.

"How is this helping?"

"Because this was going to happen sooner or later. We wanted to make sure it happened when you were surrounded by friends."

"That's what this is? Friendship?"

"Look around you."

He did just that. The entire Slytherin table was predictably crowing with visceral delight. The Gryffindor table showed a range of reactions from disbelief to disapproval. Ravenclaw sat silent and tight lipped, somehow focusing their collective response on one individual in their midst. One diminutive first year.

The Hufflepuff table remained empty though and Lorcan looked around him to see every member of his house, from youngest to oldest, boys and girls alike, standing beside him, their own expressions grim and determined.

"Hey Lysander," a large and brutish looking Slytherin shouted across the room. "Looks like they found your identical twin sister."

A wave of dutiful laughter swept across the Slytherin table.

"Yeah, what gives?" Encouraged by his audience, the thug pressed on. "I thought identical twins were supposed to be the same. Does that make you a girl too?"

More laughter, then a very abrupt silence.

Lorcan looked behind him where the severe figure of Professor McGonagall stood in the entrance.

"Goyle. My office, now." She snapped and stared at Slytherin's spokesman until he stood and slunk out of the hall. "The rest of you, eat your breakfast and get to your classes. There will be no leniency given to late arrivals this morning." She spun on her heels and vanished.

Lorcan approached the Ravenclaw table. When he noticed that the entire Hufflepuff contingent were following him, he smiled his appreciation and waved them away. He didn't need them for this next bit and it seemed apparent that they'd all waited for him and Anneka before coming into the hall, all to show solidarity.

Anneka stayed by his side. He was grateful for her company.

"Hey Lye," he said

"Lor."

"Sorry about all this. I never meant for any of it to happen."

"Don't sweat it. Maybe we can meet up later and you can tell me about it."

"Sure. How about after lunch, where we met Professor McGonagall with Mum yesterday?"

"Maybe a little quieter. How about where Hagrid took us yesterday?"

"Yeah. Maybe that would be better."

"See you later then."

"Yeah, see you."

Lorcan turned away, trying not to lean on Anneka.

"Hey, Lori." Lysander had never called him that before. Lorcan's twin sense told him it was a way of saying his brother was okay with this. He paused and turned his head a little. Lysander smiled. "You look good. I like the hair."

Lorcan smiled back and allowed his newest friend to guide him to the Hufflepuff table, where he sat and reached for a steaming bowl of porridge. He wasn't that fond of the stuff, especially not the way the Scots made it, but he didn't have much time and he needed something to get him through the morning.

"Your brother seems nice," Anneka said, making conversation.

"He is. Would you like me to say something to him? I'm sure he'd like you."

"I hope he won't mind, but I think I like his brother better, " She replied nonchalantly. "Does he always call you that?"

"Hang on, what? You like me?"

"Of course I do, silly. You're very likeable. You should try it sometime."

"What?"

"Liking yourself. It's not that hard."

"You don't know me."

"We already did this, and like I said last time, I know enough to know that I like you. I'm pretty sure that if you gave it a try and focused on the good bits, you might manage it too."

"What good bits?"

"My favourite is the way you think about others before you think about yourself. That's kind of rare, even in a Hufflepuff."

"What makes you think…"

"You want more than the things I already mentioned earlier this morning? Okay, how about the way you chose the bed furthest from mine so I wouldn't be too freaked out when I woke up to find some strange boy sharing my bedroom? How about the way you suggested we all stay away from you so we wouldn't be tainted by association with you? How about how, when most of the school was laughing at you or being freaked out by you, the only thing that was on your mind was how it affected your brother? Face it Lori, you're a really kind person."

"What did you call me."

"Lori. It's what your brother called you, and it kind of fits. Do you mind it?"

"No, I guess not. He usually calls me Lor."

"Yeah, I heard that too. Maybe he thinks Lori works better."

"It was his way of saying he's okay with all this, I think."

"So maybe if you adopt it, it can be your way of acknowledging his acceptance, don't you think?"

"Okay, sure."

"You hear that Toby? She goes by Lori."

Toby nodded his approval. "Nice to meet you Lori," he said, "but please excuse me, I need to get to class."

It began a mass exodus. Last mouthfuls of cereal were eaten, last bites of toast, last gulps of orange juice. Even Anneka stood.

"So, are you coming? You missed the briefing yesterday, but all first years in a particular house have the same schedule. We're sharing a potions class with Gryffindor first thing."

"Professor McGonagall told me to come to her office after breakfast, so I suppose I'll catch up with you when I'm done."

"Do you know where she is?"

"I haven't the first idea."

"It's kind of on the way. I'll take you there first."

"Won't that make you late?"

"I think we've got time, but we should go now."

-oOo-

Professor McGonagall's office wasn’t even remotely on the way. Being at the top of a tall tower while the potions classroom was down in the dungeons somewhere, and they didn’t have time. The two arrived outside the entrance to the head’s office a couple of minutes after the potions lesson started.

Unlike her predecessor, Minerva chose not to hide her office behind a statue. It was still there, but permanently retracted leaving the tight spiral staircase in permanent view. The wizarding world was at peace after all, and she felt the school could only be run effectively with an open door policy. It had its inconveniences to be sure, but the benefits outweighed them overall.

The staircase rose through the floor of a small landing facing a large pair of double doors. These swung open as the pair reached them, leading them into an office the size of a classroom with a large oak desk sitting on a raised platform. Behind this sat Professor McGonagall. She lifted her eyes and pierced Anneka with a withering look.

"You place me in an awkward position Miss Peasbottom. You heard me say there would be no leniency given to anyone late to first lesson today did you not?"

"Yes but…"

"I am well aware that you were helping your friend find my office, but I did say there would be no exceptions, if you recall. And how can I maintain respect if I do not maintain consistency?

"You will return here after you have eaten your lunch, at which time you will be told the consequences of your actions."

"Yes professor." For the first time since he'd woken Lorcan saw Anneka's cheerful, carefree calmness slip. He couldn't let it pass.

"Professor..."

"I'll thank you to keep your peace, young Scamander."

Lorcan felt like defying the head even so, but Anneka caught his eye and shook her head ever so slightly. Not worth it.

"Yes professor," he said, as defeated as his friend.

"Now, I believe you should be in class, Anneka. Running is not sanctioned within the castle, but you might hurry a little nonetheless."

Lorcan and Anneka shared brief rueful smiles as she made her way through the doors, closing them as she went.

Professor McGonagall pointed at a seat opposite her, which Lorcan settled into before turning his full attention on the severe expression looking back at him. It softened a little even as he watched.

"First, I should like to apologise for your reception at breakfast this morning. Generally Hogwarts students are better mannered, but today they let themselves down badly."

"Not all of them, professor. Everyone in Hufflepuff stood by me, especially Anneka."

"That is true. Perhaps you're beginning to see why the Sorting Hat put you where it did?"

"I suppose so. They were all very accepting when I turned up looking like this. Especially…"

"Anneka, yes. I suppose you think I should let her off for being late to class just now."

"It does seem a little unfair. She was only late because she was helping me."

"Well, if fairness is what you’re looking for, perhaps the fairest thing to do would be for you to share the consequences of her rashness. Would that suit you Lorcan?”

“I’d rather do that than let her face it alone, professor.”

“Very well then. I believe I overheard you arranging to meet your brother at lunchtime, so I'll tell you now what I'll be telling Anneka later. Come to the Clock-tower Courtyard immediately after dinner. I trust you’ll at least be able to find your way there without assistance."

"Yes professor." Maybe it wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was better than nothing.

"Next we have to decide what we're going to do about all this." The professor indicated Lorcan's clothes. "I received an owl from your father this morning to say that your trunks are on today's train and will arrive this afternoon. I imagine Lysander will be delighted to have his own clothes again after today, but what about you?”

“I’m sorry professor?”

"Lorcan, I know none of this was your idea and under almost any other circumstances you would not have put on that dress. Between the Sorting Hat putting you in Hufflepuff against your wishes, the staircase taking us on a long detour, and all that happened in the Room of Requirement, you didn’t have a lot of choice. I know you’re upset and worried about the consequences of appearing in public dressed as you are, but if I might make an observation, you seem considerably happier and more outgoing today compared to when you arrived yesterday. Would you not agree?”

Lorcan pondered the professor’s words for a moment. “I suppose so, but that doesn’t take into account how it will affect my parents and my brother, or my friends.”

“No it doesn’t, but exactly what does that mean? Exactly what effect would your continuing as you currently are have on them?”

“Well, you saw this morning how they picked on Lye…”

“Lorcan, you’ll encounter that sort of behaviour in any school. Whilst it’s true that your manner of dress gave both opportunity and target to the perpetrators, it’s quite likely that they would have manufactured their own had it not been forthcoming. What’s important is not so much that they attempted to pick on your brother but how he reacted. Lysander will be all right, and when you meet him at lunchtime, I suspect he’ll tell you the same. I imagine he’ll have a few questions to ask, but if you’re honest with him… Well, you’ll see.”

“It’ll be a good standard against which to measure the reaction of your parents and friends too. Lorcan, it’s good that you’re concerned about how your actions affect others, but you need to be aware that anyone who cares for you is going to worry about your happiness far more than their own.

“I’ve already mentioned how it’s best to follow the castle’s lead when it chooses to act. I believe it has found a solution to your melancholy. I don’t imagine the path ahead is going to be straightforward, but I am certain that as it leads to you being more contented in your life, those who care for you — your family and friends — will be more than willing to go through a considerable amount of unpleasantness in order to see you happier.”

“But it wouldn’t be fair on them.”

“Do you think it’s any fairer asking them to worry about you while you wallow in your despondency? Especially if there may be a way of making things better that you won’t allow them to take?”

“But…”

“If Lysander were ill and the only way to find the cure meant walking across burning coals to get it, would you do it?”

“Of course, but…”

“Even if he told you not to?”

“…”

“Allow those who love you to make the sacrifices they’re prepared to make for you. It’s unkind not to.

“What I’m suggesting is more than a little unorthodox, I know, but let this decision be about what’s best for you. Your loved ones are going to have to cope with a little unpleasantness whatever you choose, and I am certain they would rather do so in a way that makes your life better.

“Having said that, I have no wish to influence your decision. The choice has to be yours and yours alone. However, before you make it, you should be fully aware of the consequences regardless of your decision.

"I hope I made it clear last night that your current sleeping arrangements are temporary while we sort out an appropriate course of action. Circumstances are somewhat unprecedented since the Sorting Hat has never before left us with a situation like yours and Anneka’s. I take it as another indication of the castle enchantments taking an interest in you, Lorcan, but you don’t have to take that into consideration.

“What you do have to realise is that if you choose to return to your old self, we will have to find alternate sleeping arrangements for you. Again, this is unprecedented. The Sorting Hat knows how many beds there are available in each dormitory, and it takes this into account when making its decisions. The fact it gave us this unusual situation, where our best option was to allow you and Anneka to share, suggests it had an inkling of what was coming.

"If you choose to remain as you are, it may be possible to keep sleeping arrangements as they are, however this will require you to make a full time commitment to your current circumstances, and I will expect your behaviour to be above reproach at all times."

"What about the lady in the mirror? She was in the Room of Requirement, so isn't what she said to me part of all this?"

"That's very astute, and you're most likely correct. I'm not at all sure what she meant by her words, but in the meantime I don't see they preclude you from dressing, behaving and living as a young lady, even if she would say that doesn't make you one. My first instinct puts me somewhat in agreement with her, that there's more to being a woman than simply wanting it, but it may be that you'll discover what that is in a way that you wouldn't have been able to if you'd just been changed as you wished.

"Don't decide straight away. You should take time to think about it and talk it through with those people who matter most to you. Should you choose to remain as you are, I’m afraid that this morning’s incident is unlikely to be the last of the unpleasantness you’ll have to endure. I shall also have to inform your parents and arrange a meeting with them and Anneka’s in order to discuss your accommodation.

"Perhaps you'd let me have your decision after your, er, detention with Miss Peasbottom this evening."

"Yes professor."

"All right, that'll be all for now. If you go quickly you might learn something from what's left of your potions class. Give this to your professor." She handed him a small, blank piece of paper.

She reached for the uppermost letter in a very tall stack and started reading.

Lorcan stood uncertainly. "Erm…"

"What is it now," the professor sighed.

"It's just that I don't know the way."

The professor let out a huff of frustration and reached into one of her desk drawers. "If you'd stayed at the feast and gone to your common room with your prefect, you'd have been given one of these." She handed over a welcome pack, complete with a map of the castle. "But then none of this would have happened, or at least not in the same way. Just tell the map where you want to go and follow the directions."

-oOo-

Lorcan reached the potions classroom to find everyone giving their cauldron a thorough scrubbing.

He approached Professor Mugglewump and handed him the slip of paper. It immediately folded itself into the shape of a mouth and spoke.

"My apologies for Lorcan Scamander's tardiness," it said in McGonagall's voice. "I asked him to come to my office after breakfast."

"So you're the wizard who would be witch, are you?" Professor Mugglewump wore a permanent sneer and spoke through his nose, which would have filled Lorcan with an immediate dislike even without the snide comment. It was a first impression apparently shared with most, if not all, of the class as every person present paused what they were doing to give their teacher a stony stare. Lorcan might have expected the show of support from his fellow Hufflepuffs, but in this matter, every first year Gryffindor in the room stood with them.

Mugglewump cleared his throat. "Your classmates have been cleaning their equipment today. There's a coating they put on modern cauldrons that makes potion making just a little too easy, so they've been scrubbing it off. I was going to invite you back to do yours at lunchtime along with Miss Peasbottom, but since you have a note, I suppose you'll have to do it in your own time."

"Anneka has to see Professor McGonagall at lunchtime, sir." Lorcan did his best to sound respectful, but it was difficult.

"Does she now? Rest assured Mr Scamander — or do you prefer miss?" He didn't wait for a response, either from Lorcan or the class. "Rest assured, I will check with Professor McGonagall, and if you're lying to me, I shall expect both of you at lunchtime. In the meantime you can join her in the store room, putting things back on their proper shelves. Perhaps it'll teach you the benefits of a well ordered stock cupboard."

Lorcan was curious why the store should be disorganised in the first lesson of the year, but he had the sense not to ask. He joined his friend in the rather cramped space.

"Thanks," she whispered. "I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen."

"Quiet in there!"

"Sorry sir. Anneka's just showing me what she's already sorted." Lorcan's father had told him and Lysander enough stories about Mugglewump's predecessor to encourage them to developed a method for dealing with difficult teachers. For all that Snape had turned out to be a hero in the end, he had apparently been an unpleasant teacher to learn from.

Anneka pointed at the shelves she'd already sorted — about half of them — and they divided the remainder between them, just about finishing as the lesson drew to an end.

"Herbology next," Anneka said a little more cheerfully as they walked away from the dungeons. "Plants are kind of a Hufflepuff thing, I think. Certainly I like them."

The general lifting of mood amongst their fellow classmates seemed to suggest there might be some truth to it, although simply leaving the dungeon was enough to put a smile on anyone's face. Even the Gryffindors had cheered up, but then they were about to meet one of the heroes of their house."

"Good morning Gryffindor, good morning Hufflepuff." Professor Longbottom was tall and good looking. Lorcan remembered his father describing him as an awkward and timid youngster, but he also recalled the look in his mother's eyes when she'd spoken of Neville, and he could understand why her memories painted the herbology professor in a kinder light. His father had left Hogwarts a few years earlier than his mum though, so he hadn't been present to see the shy boy grow into the courageous young man Luna remembered.

"I thought we'd start off the term by looking at something special. These are snapdragons. Now, as I understand it, the Muggles also have a plant they called snapdragon, so it may be that they knew of this particular bloom at one time. Those of you from Muggle families, you should know that this is an entirely different plant." He approached the flower on the nearest of the plants cautiously holding the green stem of another plant until it suddenly lurched forward, petals transforming into jaws, and snapped down on it.

A chorus of "wows" and one or two frightened yelps greeted the demonstration.

"Now you have to be careful not to use anything too big or hard or you can damage the flowers. The plants use them for biting down on small insects like flies and moths, which are easily crunch-able. I could put my finger in there and it would damage the plant far more than it would me, so please, for the well-being of my plants, I don't want to see any of you trying it.

"I have some green shoots for you to use here, and there should be enough plants for everyone. Once you've had a go, I'll show you how you can put the plant into a dormant state so you can handle it without risking harm to the plant or to yourself."

"I thought you said it wouldn't hurt you," one of the Gryffindors said.

"What I said was it would hurt the plant more than it would hurt me. These won't take your fingers off or anything, but it's a little like getting your fingers caught in a Muggle mousetrap. I have one or two of those if any of you are curious to know what it feels like.”

The lesson went on in similar vein, and even Lorcan, who had never shown much interest in plants before, found himself captivated by Professor Longbottom's enthusiasm.

When it came to an end, they were dismissed to lunch, all except Lorcan. Neville placed one gentle hand on his shoulder and indicated with the other that he should stay, all the while smiling to reassure him he wasn’t in trouble.

Anneka held back to the last, standing at the door to Greenhouse One and biting her lip.

“I’ll catch you up,” Lorcan called after her.

“It’s all right,” Neville said, “I won’t keep him long.”

Reassured, she left, but her silhouette remained outside the glass.

"I really won't," Neville continued. "You are Lorcan though, aren't you? I was friends with your mother when we were students here."

Lorcan nodded, both in answer to the first and in response to the last. "Mum and Dad told Lysander and me a few things about their time at Hogwarts before we came. Mum always had this sort of dreamy smile when she spoke about you. I think I understand why."

Neville blushed bright red. "You look such a lot like her," he said. "Your hair’s about the same colour, and there’s something familiar around your eyes and mouth. Of course your being dressed like that helps with the impression."

And then it was Lorcan's turn to blush.

"I'm sorry," Neville said. "I didn't mean anything by it. I think you're very brave doing this, much more than I ever was in my first year. Look, all I wanted was to introduce myself. Go and be with your friend, and if you talk to your mother any time soon, please tell her hello from me."

"Thank you, Professor Longbottom. I really liked your lesson. I didn't think I was going to enjoy herbology, but that was really interesting."

And that passed the blush back to Neville. "Don't expect them all to be like that," he said. "There's quite a bit that's less interesting, only I like to start off the year with something that grabs your attention."

"It definitely did that, professor. Thanks."

And Lorcan was through the door, grabbing Anneka's hand and pulling her towards the castle and the Great Hall.

Neither of them said much as they ate. Anneka was distraught at being in trouble on her first day, and Lorcan couldn't think of any way to make things better. He considered telling her that he'd be joining her for whatever it was, but he wasn't sure if that would improve matters. He hoped just being there would help as they munched their way through a couple of turkey sandwiches each.

Both finished at the same time, and both stood together.

"Would you like me to come with you?" he asked.

"No, I'll be okay. You have to go meet with your brother. We have a flying lesson after lunch which we're sharing with Ravenclaw, so I'll see both of you then."

"I could still tell him you fancy him if you want."

She managed a laugh of sorts. "I told you, I'm more interested in his brother, so maybe you could let him know. He seems a bit dense about things like that." She managed a brave smile.

"It'll be all right," Lorcan said. "I'm choosing to believe that." He reached in and gave her a kiss on the cheek, something which surprised him almost as much as it did her. On the plus side, she left the hall with more of a spring in her step than she'd had all morning.

-oOo-

Lorcan made his way out of the Great Hall, down the stairs and out into a small courtyard that led to a viaduct that provided one of the main entrances into the castle. To his right a long flight of steps descended back and forth down a steep incline to the boat house. It was the way all the first years had come in after their trip across the lake and a lot easier going down than up. He spotted Lysander descending the steps some way ahead of him and increased his pace, catching him up at the bottom.

"Lye," he said as he approached.

"Lor," came the reply, "or would you prefer Lori?"

"I like Lori," Lorcan replied, "at least when I'm dressed like this it seems to fit better, and my friends in my house seem to have adopted it."

"Do you want to tell me what this is about? I mean I figured something was up, but I'd never have guessed this. Do Mum and Dad know? How long have you been doing this sort of thing, and what made you start?"

"Give me a second to answer and I will. No, Mum and Dad don't know unless someone told them after this morning. I never did anything like this before last night because I figured you'd pick up on it and I didn't want to freak you out, or Mum and Dad."

"So, what happened last night?"

It was the opening that Lorcan had been hoping for. He started off with how he'd felt after being sorted into Hufflepuff — "Yeah, that was a surprise" — and how he'd left the banquette early without eating anything — "I saw that, but you were giving off leave me alone vibes" — and the rest of the story flowed, from being found by Professor McGonagall to the two encounters with the Room of Requirement, to the woman in the mirror, to his eventually being taken to the Hufflepuff common room wearing the yellow dress, and everything that followed.

"I left the clothes I was wearing in the Room of Requirement. The rack of clothes appeared in my dorm, but everything else stayed in the room which has hidden itself away again. This was pretty much my only option this morning, not that I'm complaining, but I'd have worn yesterday's clothes if I'd had them, just so as not to mess with anyone’s head."

"Okay. So, what happens now?"

"I'm not sure, that's what I'm trying to figure out. I'd like to hear what you think."

"I think you need to do what's best for you.

"You have to remember Lor, we’ve been together for the whole of our lives. I remember when you started putting up the barriers. I could feel something was wrong, but I never knew what ‘cos you shut me out.

“No, I’m not getting at you — just letting you know what it’s been like for me. I mean I could feel it was tough on you, but you have to realise it was hard for me too. I wanted to help, but I could never figure out how, ‘cos I could never get past those barriers.

"In the end, I couldn't keep going. I figured you'd let me know when you were ready to let me in, which I’m guessing you just did. If this gets me my old brother back, or my new sister or whatever; if this is what it takes for you to be happy, then do it."

"And if someone comes after you like they did this morning?"

"Then I'll handle it. Lor, Lori, this is the first time in years I’ve felt you open up. If I need to take some flack in order to keep that happening, then I'm up for it."

"What about Mum and Dad? What will they make of it, do you think?"

"I reckon they'll be cool with it. You know I've heard them talking in the night when they think we're asleep. They talk about you mostly, about how worried they are. So if this is a cure for what's troubling you, I think they'd go with it.

"So is this you now? Do I have an identical twin sister?"

"I don't know. I still have a lot of things to think through."

"Like what?"

“Like… I don’t know. I mean this is kind of new to me too. It’s… I don’t know, it’s something I’ve needed for such a long time, but now I have it I have to figure out how much I want it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Lori scrunched her face up with frustration. “I… Look, have you ever wanted anything so badly you couldn’t think of anything else?”

“You mean like a couple of Christmases ago when I really wanted those new Chudley Cannon’s robes?”

“Well… kind of, I suppose. Do you remember what it felt like on Christmas morning when you opened the parcel?”

“Yeah, it felt brilliant!”

“Okay, but afterwards. Did you ever find yourself looking at them and wondering why you wanted them so badly?”

“Well…”

“That’s kind of what this is like.”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, Lor. I mean everyone’s already seen you in a skirt. It’s not as if they’d stop giving you a hard time now whatever you do.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that, I don’t know, it’s kind of… before all of this, my mind was filled up with all the things I couldn’t have, and now that I can…”

“You’re not sure you want them?”

"No. More like I don’t want them as much. Now my mind is filled with all the ways this is affecting other people.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah, and like Mum and Dad, and Anneka…”

“Was that who was with you at breakfast?”

“Yeah, the girl I’m sharing a room with.”

“Sounds kind of fun.”

“It’s actually kind of complicated. Then there’s the woman in the mirror…”

“The one who said you couldn’t be a girl.”

“Yeah. I’m beginning to wonder if I should be doing this.”

“And what happens if you go back to the way things were?”

“Huh?”

“What are the chances you’ll end up the same saddo I’ve been living with for the past I don’t know how many years? Lori, I like you like this. It’s a bit weird, sure, but at least it’s like having my brother back, or sister or whatever. You're a person again, not a… a… I don’t know what you were, but now is better than that.”

“But the woman in the mirror…”

“Doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She was in the Room of Requirement. It has to mean something.”

“It means she’s wrong and maybe you need to figure out why.”

“And what about Anneka? The Sorting Hat put us together, and it’s going to be all sorts of complicated if we need to figure out different sleeping arrangements.”

“Which you’d have to do anyway if you went back to being your old self. Look, I get that it’s all a bit of a mess at the moment, but you can’t let that be a reason for throwing away the first good thing that’s happened to you in years. I can’t be the only person telling you this!”

“I suppose Professor McGonagall did too. She said the enchantments in this castle never go wrong. Sometimes they do stuff differently from the way you’d expect, but…”

“But what? The only reason any of this happened was because of the castle’s enchantments. This is definitely different from what I’d expect, but if they never go wrong, maybe you should trust them.”

"Maybe, but the sleeping arrangements affect Anneka too. I need to make sure she's okay with them, then our parents need to agree."

"I don't see Anneka having a problem with it. I mean she's into you. As for our parents and hers, that’s a bridge you’ve still got to cross, and you won’t know if you can unless you try."

“Okay, but there’s still the Room of Requirement.”

“What about it?”

“The first time I went in it showed me something called the Mirror of Erised. It shows your deepest desire, and when I looked into it I saw myself as a girl. Not just me in a skirt like now, but me as an actual girl. My face was more girly, I was smaller."

"And that means?"

"That my deepest desire is to be a girl, not just to look a bit like one, not just to pretend to be one. Also that the Room of Requirement intended for me to know that.

"Then the second time I went into the room, it had changed its outside."

"Yeah, you said. To Girls' Changing Room."

"Well, I didn’t want to go in, mainly because I still saw myself as a boy. I guess I still do. And despite everything that happened that time, there was the woman in the mirror who told me the same thing."

"But you still went in, because Prof M persuaded you that the door really was there for you. You still put on that dress. It’s like you said, you really want to be a girl, but you don’t feel like one."

“So why didn’t the room change me into one? I mean it would solve all the problems. No issue with me sharing a room with Anneka, no reason for people to make fun of me, no feeling of being stuck in this awful in-between place.”

“I’m beginning to wonder how you’d have felt if the room had given you what you wanted.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean how much would having all the right bits change the way you felt on the inside? You didn’t want to go in the second time because you didn’t believe you were a girl. You’re having all these doubts now for the same reason.”

“Because I’m not a girl!”

“So what are you? I know you’re talking about what’s on the outside, but you’ve been stuck with that so long, you’ve started believing the lies your body’s telling you. What are you? Really, what are you on the inside?”

“I…”

“Need to figure it out. You were never going to the way you were, which is why the Room of Requirement trapped you in that dress and marooned you in a girls’ dormitory with a rack full of girls’ clothes. You have to figure out what you really believe. Maybe then you’ll find a way to become who you really are.”

"But the room's gone."

"For now. Maybe it'll come back when you understand yourself better. Maybe you’ll meet the woman in the mirror again when you're ready to help her understand."

Lorcan pulled at his lip and nodded.

"You know how much you look like Mum when you do that?" Lysander chuckled.

"I'll take that as a compliment, shall I? Besides, if it's true for me…"

"I've missed you Lor."

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Just promise you won't go away again. However you sort this out, you keep me in the loop. I'm here for you, Lori."

"You sound like you should be in Hufflepuff. Maybe we should talk to the Sorting Hat."

"Nah. I mean where would I sleep? They'd hardly let me share with a couple of girls, even if one of them was my sister."

Lorcan felt a warm softness spread through him. Having his brother recognise him as a girl felt good, even if he wasn’t all the way there yet.

"We should probably be getting back," Lysander said. "I don't know how long ago the clock rang the half hour, but I'd guess lunch time's nearly over, and we don't want to be late for Madam Hooch."

-oOo-

Lorcan followed his brother back up the stairs. The skirt limited his stride a little, so Lysander kept getting ahead of him. It was odd, but the inconvenience didn't bother him so much as help the warm glow spread through him.

The bell calling them to class rang just as they reached the top of the stairs, and they had to hurry to get to the training ground. Not quite running, which was just as well as they ran into the ghost of Argus Filch on the way.

The old caretaker and his hideous cat had both passed away in their sleep some years before, but seemed unable or unwilling to leave the castle. Filch had spent all his life resenting being a Squib. Now as a ghost he took a perverse pleasure in being able to walk through walls to surprise any student who might be up to no good. An additional quirk of fate had turned him into a more powerful poltergeist than Peeves had ever been, which meant he spent a fair amount of his time exacting his revenge on the older ghost, a process that ironically resulted in far more mayhem than Peeves had ever managed. Filch's successor was, by necessity, a quite capable wizard named Amberton Mulch, who dealt with both student and poltergeist mischief with a cheerful equanimity.

The twins carried on down the corridor as fast as they dared with Filch's dire warnings of shackles and torture following them. They were the last to arrive on the training field. Not quite late enough to earn themselves a reprimand, but the stern look Madam Hooch sent their way was enough of a warning for them not to try their luck.

The lesson passed without incident — unusual for a first year introduction to flying — with neither Lysander nor Lorcan excelling in their capacity to control a broom.

Lorcan had no opportunity to talk to Anneka until the lesson ended. When he finally caught up with her, she was back to her earlier subdued mood.

"McGonagall wouldn't tell me what the detention would be, only I have to be in the Clock-tower Courtyard after dinner."

"I'll come with you," Lorcan said.

"You don't have to."

"Actually, I do. Professor McGonagall seemed to think it appropriate we share the punishment. I wanted to tell you earlier but the time never seemed right."

"That's okay. I've been a bit moody today so I probably didn't make it easy for you. I'm glad that we'll be together, but not that you're in trouble too."

-oOo-

Their last lesson was a mind numbingly tedious introduction to the history of magic in which Professor Binns managed to spend the entire lesson telling them about the things they would be learning that term without actually managing to teach them anything. Lorcan's head was buzzing by the end of it, and not in the good way Neville had managed.

"Well at least I know where to come any time I have trouble sleeping," Anneka whispered to him as they left.

"This must be what it feels like to be hit by a stupify charm," he replied.

"At least we don't have any homework. We have an hour before dinner. Any ideas on what we could do?"

"I think I've lost the ability to think after that last lesson. How about you?"

"You know we don't have to wear our uniforms after school hours? I wouldn't mind getting changed."

"Would you like to try something off my rack of clothes?"

"Could I?" It was almost the old enthusiastic Anneka, from all the way back at the beginning of the morning. "There's this dress I saw this morning while I was waiting for you to wake up. I think it'll go really well with my eyes."

"One condition. You help me find something to wear too."

"Deal!" She ran off towards the kitchens and their dormitory. Fortunately Filch had found something else to keep him occupied because they made it back without incident.

It took them half an hour to get changed. Not Anneka's fault since she'd found the dress she'd had her eyes on and all but changed into it by the time a rather out of breath Lorcan caught up with her. It looked perfect on her with green swirls that did almost exactly matched the colour of her eyes.

The rest of the time consisted of sorting Lorcan out, and that involved him trying on at least half the clothes on the rack. He was tempted by the princess dress again, but Anneka rightly told him that it was a little dressy for an ordinary dinner and, with all the delicate decoration. it would most likely wouldn’t survive their detention unscathed.

Besides, it was still Lori's first day out in the open and it would probably be as well to give the haters a chance to get used to him before going uber-girly on them.

In the end he settled on a simple brown tiered skirt that reached to knee length and a knitted yellow top. Warm and comfortable while being girly enough to make a statement without ramming it in people's faces.

They endured a few angry scowls through dinner, the worst of them being from Goyle. That was the worst of it though. Everyone had learnt from McGonagall's intervention at breakfast that overt aggression would not be tolerated.

Anneka and Lorcan ate a little more swiftly than would be considered ladylike and left as soon as they could. They made their way directly to the courtyard and sat by the old fountain to talk, the main topic being speculation on what was to come.

Girls’ Changing Room - 3 - A New Cloak by Maeryn Lamonte - Copyright © 2021
	And as a thank you for your patience (and because it didn’t take so much editing in review) here’s chapter 3 as well. It’ll probably mean I won’t get as many comments on chapter 2, but I hope that won’t be the case.

-oOo-

"Good evening ladies." It was difficult to see them as anything but, though Minerva was gratified to see the way Lorcan sat up straighter and almost preened at being so called. "I'm glad to see you here in good time this time. Lori, I believe that's what people are calling you now?" Lorcan nodded. "I trust you made it to Professor Mugglewump's class in time to learn something this morning?"

"Well, he had most people in the class scrubbing the EazyKleen linings off their cauldrons when I arrived. Because Anneka and I were late, he had us sort out the store room. He was planning on having us back for detention to do our cauldrons, but I suppose we still have that to come."

Minerva's mood darkened momentarily. She made a note to drop in on Mugglewump's class the following morning.

"And how was the rest of the day?"

"Really good thank you. I really enjoyed Professor Longbottom's lesson, and flying was quite fun, even if it was hard. Professor Binns…"

"You needn't worry about him. We've all endured Professor Binns' lectures, which I'll tell you were no more stimulating when he was alive. The trick to them is to make sure you have your history of magic textbook with you and take notes from the relevant chapter while he's talking. You'll learn more that way and find the experience less tedious."

"Why do you let him teach if he's so bad?" Anneka asked rather brazenly. Perhaps she felt she had less to lose now she was in trouble.

"I'll allow you that one discourtesy, Miss Peasbottom. To answer your question, firstly it's not so easy to stop a ghost from doing what it sets its mind to. I presume you met Peeves and Mr Filch?"

Anneka nodded.

"Secondly, since we have no need to pay Professor Binns for his efforts it leaves us a little more in the coffers to spend on other potentially more important things. And lastly, in all the years that Binns has been in the school, we haven't noticed the mark's for history of magic being much different from the rest of the subjects, which shows that those who are interested in the history of magic will find a way to learn it just as well with him teaching as anyone else."

"Yes, professor. Sorry."

"The question was a valid one Anneka, though you could have found a more tactful way to ask it."

"Yes professor."

"All right, I believe this will be Hagrid coming to take you to your evening's task." There was no mistaking the lumbering presence crossing the bridge behind them. "I must stress that it is important you do it to the best of your ability. Hagrid, I'll leave these two in your care. I have an appointment with Mr Goyle, supervising his cleaning of the owlery floor."

Anneka and Lorcan shared a look of horror. If that's how Goyle was being punished, what did they have in store.

"All right you two, come along," Hagrid said trying not to sound particularly friendly. "And bring yer wits with yer. We're going to th' Forbidden Forrest."

"Is that allowed?" Anneka sounded rather scared. "I mean we're first years and the forest is out of bounds to us this year."

"It's all right as long as it's sanctioned by th' headmaster — mistress — whatever — and as long as I stay with you. I took Harry Potter for a detention to th' Forbidden Forest in his first year. In fact it's in relation to that what we're doing tonight."

"What are we doing tonight, Hagrid?" Lorcan decided to try friendliness. The half-giant grounds keeper had already shown some kindness towards him and his brother.

"You'll see when we get there."

"Can't you give us a clue?"

"Well, what do you know about Harry Potter's first year?"

"Was that the year of the philosopher's stone," Anneka asked, trying to distract herself from her fear.

"That's right. I figured you youngun's'd be reading about young Harry. So what else do you know?"

"Wasn't it the defence against the dark arts teacher…"

"Professor Quirrel, that's 'im."

"Professor Quirrel. Volde…."

"Shshsh!" Hagrid hushed her.

"What's the matter Hagrid?" Lorcan asked. "I know Professor McGonagall doesn't like saying his name, but he is dead you know."

"I know, and maybe I am a little superstitious, but we're getting close to th' forest now, and there's things live in there don't take kindly to folk bandying that name about."

"All right," Anneka picked up the thread. “He-who-will-not-be-named attached himself to Quirrel somehow and snuck into Hogwarts."

"And do you know how He-who-must-whatever managed to keep alive?" They'd reached the edge of the forest and Hagrid unslung his crossbow.

"No, I don't remember reading about that anywhere."

"You'd probably 'ave found it to be a bit disturbing if you 'ad. He drank unicorn blood."

"Oh! That's horrible!" Anneka gasped. Lorcan was just as shocked, but without any voice to express it.

"Yep, two unicorns died that year and th' rest learnt to be wary of ‘umans an’ them of us with ‘uman blood. I've been trying to rebuild th' trust since, and th' times now come to extend that circle of trust."

They'd been making their way deeper into the forest as Hagrid spoke. On his last words they'd stepped into a clearing where two magnificent horned horses stood proudly, their coats shining in the moonlight.

"Here's a brush each. Let them choose which of you they wants to be with, and once you've been chosen, you're to give 'em a thorough brushing down, head to hoof as it were. Be gentle and take special care to untangle their manes and their tails.

"You can talk to 'em while you work, of course, but pay mind to 'em. If they seem not to like it, you'd best shut your mouth."

They were a similar size and both mares as far as Lorcan could tell. One was pure silver and the other a more golden colour. It was the golden one that moved first, approaching Anneka and nudging her shoulder gently with its nose. She was entranced and it took a second nudge before she remembered her brush and set about her assigned task.

With that taken care of, the silver one nodded at Lorcan. He approached cautiously until it nodded a second time. Lorcan started brushing, then paused when the creature's skin quivered where he'd brushed it. The great head turned his way again, showing large, liquid, questioning eyes, he set to with a will.

It took them an hour to do a proper job. They wanted to do more, but both animals shone from their efforts. As they stood back, the two unicorns settled down on their front knees.

"I knew you was the right two for th' job," Hagrid said, delighted. "Now give me them brushes and climb up on their backs."

"Wha'?" Anneka said in a dreamy voice.

"They're inviting you to ride. This hasn't happened since before tha' nasty business when Harry was here. Go on, this is quite an honour, and you wouldn't want to upset 'em by refusing."

"Hagrid, do they know about me? Not being a girl and everything?" For once the Muggle legends matched those of the magic world.

"They're magic creatures, Lorcan. They wouldn't be up to much if they couldn't see through a bit of clothing. In fact they wouldn't know how pure you was if they couldn't see through to the innermost part of you."

"Then what is this?"

"Well what do you think? If that one's seen into th' centre of your being and it's still kneeling, what d'you think it's seen?"

Lori still couldn't believe it was happening. Anneka had already mounted and her golden steed risen beneath her. Lori walked up to the front of his own and gazed into its liquid eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked. By way of answer the great head nuzzled him gently and turned slightly in invitation.

She needed no more encouragement. She swung up onto the great back, grateful for the free flowing skirt that allowed her to straddle the beast. She could feel the part of herself that was wrong, but for the first time in her life she knew that it had nothing to do with who she was. All these years believing she was a boy, trying to be a boy, and here was confirmation beyond her capacity to deny it of what she was and always had been.

Muscles bunched under her bare legs and the creature lifted her impossibly high. The two creatures spun on the spot, gold and silver moving almost as one, and they launched themselves deeper into the forest.

Lori could hear Anneka's laughter, as well as her own. She hunkered down close to her steed's neck and clung tight. Branches flashed out of the night ahead of her and somehow, defying possibility, flew past without touching her. The ride was breathtaking, exciting, exhilarating, terrifying, enthralling. It seemed to last forever and no time at all. When the two creatures drew to a halt, they were so deep into the forest they knew they would never be able to find their way out, and yet neither of them was frightened.

They found themselves in a vast clearing, filled with unicorns. Two, perhaps three, dozen of them from tiny foals to elderly mares, and standing proud in the very middle of the herd stood one brilliant white stallion, a full head taller than any of the others.

Lorcan's and Anneka's mounts approached cautiously and bowed before him, turning their heads, which the two friends took to mean they should also dismount. Once they were standing on their own feet, it felt right that they should kneel alongside and bow their heads. After that they were unsure what to do, so they waited.

Time stretched out into an eternity, but neither Lori nor Anneka cared. Here was a piece of heaven which neither of them wanted to end. When it did it was almost too magical for words.

Lori felt something hard touch her forehead and apply a gentle upward pressure. She allowed whatever it was to lift her until she found herself gazing into the unicorn stallion's face. Eyes like pools of oil, fine felt hairs shining as though they made their own light. The creature stood back and tossed its head, which Lori took to mean she should stand. She did and waited while the great creature did the same to Anneka. The gigantic beast stepped between them and stood still.

Lori figured it out first. It was unfortunate Hagrid had taken back the brushes, but a quick search of the clearing revealed a bush with closely grouped, green branches that didn't feel too dissimilar to the stiff bristles. She pulled off two handfuls and passed one across to her friend.

"We're sorry," she explained to the enormous beast. "We gave our brushes back to Hagrid. I hope these will serve in their stead." She set about brushing down her side of the immense creature, untangling its mane which fell on her side. Anneka did her bit and dealt with the tail. It took the best part of another hour to complete the task, after which the magnificent animal truly shone.

It bowed its thanks and turned back to the same two mares that had brought them. After Anneka and Lori bowed their own response to the stallion, they turned to the mares who were kneeling much as they had before. Anneka and Lori climbed back onto their steeds' backs and before they had time to breathe they were chasing back through the forest at the same breakneck speed.

Fortunately, no necks were broken and they arrived back in the clearing to find Hagrid pacing back and forth, his giant brows furrowed.

"Oh, yer back," he called out with a false cheer that didn't do much to cover his concern. "And how was that then?"

"Oh Hagrid, it was magical," Anneka gushed as she climbed down from her mount.

Lori climbed down from hers and hugged it around the neck. It remained still until she backed away.

"I'm sorry if that wasn't appropriate," she addressed the silver mare. "It's how humans say thank you when words aren't enough. She bowed and Anneka remembered her manners enough to bow to her own.

It was apparently what the two unicorns had been waiting for because they tossed their heads briefly, turned and disappeared back into the forest.

"So," Hagrid said. "Which of you is going to tell me what happened. You were gone quite a while you know. It's rather later than I'd intended staying out."

"They took us right into the heart of the forest," Lori started.

"I have never ridden so fast," Anneka chipped in.

"Trees whizzing past…"

"But not one branch hit us."

"It was terrifying…"

"And so exciting at the same time."

"Then we came to a vast clearing."

"There must have been, what?"

"Maybe thirty unicorns…?"

"About that. Babies with their mothers…"

"Older dames on their own, and right in the middle of them all…"

"There was this one giant stallion," they both finished together, then stared at each other and burst out laughing.

"Wait, you're telling me they took you to see th' herd?"

Anneka indicated that Lori should speak.

"Yes. They presented us to the stallion. He was so much bigger than the rest."

"I hope you showed him th' proper respect."

"Well, our mounts were kneeling, so we climbed down and knelt as well. It seemed like the right thing to do."

"Then the stallion touched Lori and me on the forehead with his horn and told us to stand up," Anneka said.

"What, he actually spoke to you? I didn't think even he had speech."

"No, not in words. He pushed us upwards with his horn until we were looking at him, then he tossed his head to get us onto our feet."

"When we were standing he moved between us and just stopped. Lori figured out what he wanted and fetched some branches from a bush which we used to brush him down as best we could."

"Oh, I should have let you keep th' brushes!" Hagrid scolded himself.

"To be honest Hagrid, if you had, I think I might have dropped mine on the way," Lori said, with Anneka nodding her agreement. "He seemed happy enough with the result. He bowed to us and called back the two who'd carried us before and they brought us straight back. Have we really been gone that long?"

"About two hours which, with th' hour you spent grooming those two, means it's well past time you were in your beds. But, oh you've done famously. To have been invited into the herd, to have met the stallion, I never would have imagined you could do all that."

"Hagrid, this wasn't an ordinary detention was it?" Lori asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hagrid was renowned for not being able to lie.

"Who's idea was it? Yours or Professor McGonagall's?"

"Well, er, I suggested it, but the professor approved it, so…"

"Thank you Hagrid, it was perfect."

"And exactly where have you been all this time?" Professor McGonagall did a much better job of sounding stern, but when Lori ran to her and threw her arms around the old woman's waist, even she couldn't maintain her composure. "I was worried."

"They let us ride them," Anneka explained. "Both of us. They took us to the centre of the forest and introduced us to their herd. We had to brush down the stallion."

"My stars!" McGonagall breathed. "I was not expecting that. Well you have had an adventure, haven't you. Thank you Hagrid, I'll take it from here. We'd best get you to your beds."

-oOo-

It was past midnight by the time Minerva delivered Lori and Anneka to their dorm with a strict warning not to brag about what they'd been through. "It wouldn't do for students to think detentions were fun," she said. "I'm sure Goyle's experiences will go a long way to persuading people otherwise, but if your adventures were to become generally known I might be accused of favouritism, and that would never do."

"It wasn't, was it professor? Favouritism, I mean?" Anneka asked.

"Good heavens no. Under the circumstances it was simply appropriate given the reasons for your being detained."

"But you let us think it was going to be bad for the whole day."

"Hopefully so you'll think twice before breaking a rule in the future, even if it's in a good cause. Be warned, the next time you choose to disregard my instructions, no matter your reasoning, I doubt I shall be so lenient." She tried to sound severe, but managed to spoil it by not quite hiding a look of smug satisfaction.

"Lorcan. Lori," she continued. "I asked you to have an answer for me at this time, and I suspect you have one in mind. However, given the lateness of the hour, I will ask you to sleep on it tonight and come and see me after breakfast tomorrow. Try not to bring your friend when you do." She gave Anneka a scowl, which may or may not have been genuine. It was, after all, a good thing to keep students guessing about you.

Past midnight. The witching hour the Muggles called it for some reason. Well it was time this witch went looking for answers, she thought. She hunted out the corridor where she and Lori had last found the Room of Requirement and there she spoke to a blank wall — by far not the strangest thing she'd done since taking on the Hogwarts headship.

"I require the Mirror of Erised," she said, "in my office, now."

Albus had once confided in her that the trick to getting things done at Hogwarts was to employ what he referred to as 'assumed authority'. If you believed you were in charge and acted as such, then everything seemed to fall into place. Of course Minerva couldn't tell whether or not Dumbledore was being serious, but then that was in the nature of the man — he liked to keep everyone guessing.

She turned and strode away down the corridor. It may have been her imagination, but she thought she heard stone sliding against stone behind her.

Back at her office she learnt first hand why Dumbledore had retained such a large suite of rooms as his own work place. Of course he had tended to entertain large groups of people up there from time to time, but he'd also managed to fill it with a great many things without it seeming cluttered..

The mirror would have dominated a smaller room, but it fit well in the larger part of the circular office. The occupants of most of the portraits behind the mirror had crowded into the few frames that had a view of the reflective side. The only one that still contained its subject was Dumbledore’s. Minerva shared a nod and a smile with the image of her old mentor and turned to the mirror itself.

For once she wasn't worried about what she might see. What she wanted more than anything else right now was to confront the red haired woman who'd so upset Lorcan the previous night, and there she was looking back out of the glass at her, much as Lorcan had described her.

"Is this a dream?" she asked.

"Not for me it isn't," Professor McGonagall replied shortly. "Given the hour, I'd very much prefer to be in my bed, but I have some decisions to make regarding a student in my care, and in order to do so I need some answers from you."

"I don't know why you think I can help."

"Yesterday you encountered a young man wearing a yellow dress."

"Not something I'm going forget in a hurry. That felt like a dream too."

"You told him it wasn't possible for him to be a girl. I would like you to explain that to me."

"I'd have thought it was obvious. He's a young man — a boy — you just said so yourself. In order to be a girl, you have to be born a girl."

Minerva pursed her lips together. "I'll agree that such is the normal way of things, but in my experience real life is rarely so distinctly black and white. Can you not accept that there might be exceptions sometimes?"

"No! He's a boy! That's the way he was born and that's an end to it."

"I don't understand why you're so adamant. Why is it so important to you that things have to be this way?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"I believe I already said I didn't, but perhaps if you tried to explain…"

The woman in the mirror let out a deep sigh and settled into silent thought. Minerva sat quietly in her chair and waited.

"My first husband was abusive," the woman said eventually. "He used to hit me and he never once showed any remorse."

"That must have been terrible, but I don't see how it has any relevance…"

"It was his way of showing me he was in charge. He hit me because he was a man, because he was stronger than me, because he knew I couldn't fight back.

"I feel for this boy, I really do. I've been sympathetic to trans people — that is people like him — for most of my life. I know they often experience abuse not so different from my own, and that it has the same effect in the long run. It saps your confidence, your will. It leaves you without any sense of self-worth.

"But to accept that a boy can be a girl undermines the whole concept of gender — the physical differences between the sexes that are at the heart of what I experienced. It leaves me, and thousands of women like me, with no way of expressing what we've been through, don't you see?"

"So does this mean you think all men are the same?"

"Of course not. I would never have remarried otherwise."

"And your current husband, does he hit you?"

"No! He would never…"

"So why is it that you have to see your abuse as needing this context of a man being cruel to a woman? Are there no instances of women abusing their husbands in the Muggle world?"

"Well yes, but…"

"Don't get me wrong, I do understand the way you feel. In the years since the defeat of a particularly unpleasant individual in our world, I've heard no end of cries against those who supported him. 'Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater!'; 'The only good Death Eater is a dead one!;, 'Death's too good for them; bring back the Dementors!'

"All the while a part of me has agreed with them. I've lived through a time when good wizards and witches were forced to act against their will and against their friends through the waving of a Death Eater wand, where they've screamed in agony until they lost their minds, where their lives were erased in a green flash and the utterance of a couple of words. I think of the deranged evil of Bellatrix Le Strange, of Barty Crouch Junior and at times I have wondered if there's a single one worth saving.

"But then I think of Severus Snape. He lived most of his life allowing those who knew him best to think the worst of him so he could remain alongside the enemy and report back on their plans and who they were. It's because of him that we know the difference between the truly evil ones like Bellatrix, the opportunists who really had no idea what they were getting into like Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and those who were too scared to stand against the darkness like their son Draco. Are they all so bad as each other? Do they all deserve the same punishment, the same hatred?

"When you've suffered at the hands of members of a group, the easiest thing to do is react to the whole group, to brand them with the same mark and judge them all the same. We're all human though, all individuals. In a fairer world, we'd judge as we would wish to be judged, according to our own strengths and weaknesses, and perhaps most of all by those things that set us apart from those around us."

"That's all very well. I mean, I didn’t understand much of what you were talking about, but I think I followed the gist of it, and I don't see how it relates to what I've been through."

"You say the only way you can make sense of your experiences is by considering your sex in relation to that of your abuser, despite admitting that not all men abuse, that not all abuse is instigated by men on women. I don't mean to belittle in any way the trauma you've suffered, but by expressing it in the context of sex you're imposing an absolute that I would say does not exist, simply to make it easier to understand your own experiences.

"I won't deny that history in both the Muggle and magical worlds has seen an awful lot of men impose their will on the world largely to the detriment of women's lives. I am a woman after all, and I've lived long enough to have experienced a considerable deal of such behaviour, but I will not pretend that it happened as a result of all men being misogynistic.

"There have undeniably been times when the majority of men joined in with the subjugation and oppression of women, but it doesn't take a lot of searching to see that this was due more to opportunism than true voluntary intent, and who's to say we wouldn't have acted in the same way had the roles been reversed?

"You've been hurt, and that means you want some degree of retribution or recognition, I understand; I sympathise, but to insist on this black and white thinking for no other reason than to make it easier for you to feel justified, puts you in danger of causing abuse to others, and for not much better a reason."

"Absolutely not! I do not agree…"

"You say your first husband abused you, possibly to give him a sense of being in control. He probably did so because he felt insecure. It doesn't justify his actions, but it may help to explain them.

"In the same way, you insist that men and women are such because to do otherwise undermines your ability to express and understand your own experiences. In insisting on this you are undermining a young person's ability to cope with a burden he — or rather she — has been carrying for possibly all of her life. I understand why you're doing it, but it still doesn't justify your doing so."

"All right, give me some proof that I'm wrong then. Tell me something that will convince me that a young boy like the one I met yesterday could in fact be a girl."

"She rode a unicorn tonight."

"What?"

"The legend is the same in your world as mine. A unicorn will only allow a maiden to ride."

"That's not proof!"

"It is in my world. I had hoped you'd believe it enough to accept it. Since you don't, we need someone from your world who can give you evidence you'll understand and accept."

"What on Earth?" The new voice came from a white coated individual who'd just appeared next to the red headed woman. It had an antipodean twang.

"Hello," Professor McGonagall said. "Would I be correct in believing you know a thing or two about, what was it she called them, trans-people?"

"Well yes, I'm a doctor, and I’ve been conducting research into possible genetic causes for trans behaviour, but where am I? Am I dreaming?"

"I couldn't say for sure, doctor, and I feel any explanation I might give would confuse the matter, so let's say for now that you are. Perhaps you'd be so good as to give a short explanation of your research to the lady beside you?"

"All right, but the reports are freely available on the Internet. We published in September 2018 in the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism under the title, 'Genetic Link Between Gender Dysphoria and Sex Hormone Signalling.'

"I suppose a short synopsis of our findings would be that we took samples from about three to four hundred trans women and a similar number of cis-gendered men and found that the trans-women had a significant over-representation of four genes that we know are involved in the processing of sex hormones. We are continuing our research, but at present it seems highly likely that these genes may result in the formation of a brain structure that is inherently more feminine than masculine.

"In essence, despite being born genetically and physically male, these individuals naturally think and, to some degree, feel like women. They have a strong sense that they should be women, and it is ultimately psychologically damaging for them to continue living as men."

"Thank you doctor." Professor McGonagall smiled at him then turned her attention to the woman beside him, whose face had turned somewhat stony. "I hope you understood what he was talking about, because it made little enough sense to me."

"Oh, I followed it well enough, thank you. But if this is a dream and you are controlling it somehow, you could have him saying anything at all to support your views."

"So look it up yourself on this inter-thingy of yours when you wake up. That was more for your benefit than mine in any case. I've satisfied myself that your opinions aren't well founded, and the evidence I have holds more weight, and that helps me know how to deal with young Lori tomorrow. For yourself, you can choose to stay safe in your own prejudice or step out of your comfort zone a little and challenge your beliefs. I rather hope you choose the latter course, but either way I doubt it will have any further impact here.

"Thank you both for your time, although I appreciate you neither had much of a choice, and goodnight."

Minerva stood stiffly and walked out of her office, wincing slightly at the aches the night time cold had brought to her limbs.

Despite the lateness of the hour, she detoured via the blank wall she'd visited earlier, pausing there long enough to say, "Thank you, I've done with it now." Then remembering how dangerous magic could be with any degree of ambiguity, "Please return the Mirror of Erised to the Room of Requirement until such time as it is needed again."

The stones rippled in response and Minerva continued on her way.

-oOo-

The next day dawned bright and clear. Anneka was evidently a morning person who didn't need much sleep, as when Lori roused it was to see her friend sitting up in bed on the other side of the room, reading a rather heavy looking book.

"Morning sleepyhead," she beamed. "I've been doing some reading and I think I've found something useful."

"Murkh?" Lori asked.

Anneka bounced off her bed and onto Lori's offering the book. "Page three," she said.

Lori pushed her mass of hair out of the way and tried to focus on the title of the book. "Book of potions?" she managed to say with some marginal degree of clarity.

"Page three," Anneka insisted.

"Beautification potion?" Lori read.

"Yeah, personally I think you look pretty amazing as you are, but I have a feeling you won't agree."

"Won't this just end up making me look like a good looking guy?"

"Not if we do it right. Look here."

Lori looked where her friend pointed and started reading. "Originally, two different potions existed, one for men and one for women. This, however, meant that the potions were open to abuse by pranksters.

"In 1446, Randolph the Rash, jester to King and Queen Laramy of the Magical Kingdom of Fareway, switched his lord and lady's potions as a jape. The potions used by the king and queen were especially potent, with effects designed to last for a whole year. Once drunk, the two ended up looking so much like each other that they were obliged to switch places until the potions wore off. No-one other than the king, the queen and the jester knew that anything untoward had happened, and in order to teach him a lesson, the royal couple ordered their potioneer to brew an extra potion, which they then gave to Randolph, after which he spent a troublesome year living under the guise of the queen's niece, and being chased by every eligible young man in their court.

"Nothing more was said on the matter. Randolph never spoke of his jest, but he did write about it in his memoirs, which were only published after the king and queen's death. Some historians say that the jester's journal entry is actually the joke, and that the events described never took place, however records show that Randolph was absent from the court in the year that Princess Arabella visited, and in the same year the potioneer was commanded to alter the recipe for the beautification potion. Ginger was substituted for certain ingredients, resulting in a new potion that was marginally less effective, but a little more palatable and not so open to abuse.

"The royal potioneer's records report that the original recipes were destroyed in accordance with a royal decree, however some mention is made of Randolph scrawling the potion ingredients into the margins of his journal. Since Randolph disappeared from Fareway shortly after these events, apparently taking the journal with him, none of it can be corroborated.

"I don't see how this helps."

"Really not? A potion once existed that could make a man look like a woman, and the only ingredient that's been added is the ginger. If we can figure out what was taken out of the original, we could make you look the way you want."

"Without going into how we do that when no-one has managed it in five hundred and fifty years, it isn't just about the way I look, Anneka. I mean, yes I look like a girl right now, and I feel more like one than I ever have because of what you did to my hair and because of these clothes and because of the way you and the other Hufflepuffs treat me, but I know I'm not. I have this thing that makes me a boy, and even if I have it hidden under my skirt, I can feel it's there. No amount of beautification potion is going to change that."

"I don't understand why that's so important. I mean there are a bunch of things about being a girl that aren't so great. On average we're shorter and weaker than boys, which is annoying, we have to sit to go to the loo, and one day soon I'm going to have to deal with something happening every month for most of the rest of my life which is frankly disgusting. Smelly, uncomfortable, icky. I wouldn't wish that on my best friend, and I don't Lori."

"But for all that, it'll mean you can have babies, which is something I'll never be able to do."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know. I mean I don't really care right now, but I think it will matter to me one day.

"Besides, about the same time all that happens for you, I'll start growing and getting all muscley and smelly, with hair all over my face and body. How will I look in a dress then?"

"Well that's what I was working on. It's when we'll need the original version of this potion…"

"Which no-one has seen for hundreds of years, which most people don't even think exists any more. What do you suggest? Should we go into the library and ask Madame Pince if we can borrow a copy of Randolph the Rash's memoirs?"

"Well, no. I mean even if there is such a thing, it won't have the annotations, and most likely it'll be in the restricted section if it's anywhere."

"So?"

"Look, I didn't say it was going to be easy. At least this is a start of something we can try." Gloomy clouds had replaced most of Anneka's cheerful expression.

"I'm sorry Anneka. You're right, it is a start. If nothing else, it shows there's likely to be a solution out there somewhere. Thank you for looking, and sorry for pooping all over your enthusiasm."

"Pooping?" Anneka giggled. "You're such a girl, you know that?"

Lori smiled too. "You say the kindest things."

"What are BFFs for?" She grabbed back the book. "We should get washed and dressed. Breakfast is in half an hour. Dibs on the bathroom!"

She bounced off Lori's bed and ran off to shower.

-oOo-

One of the advantages of Hogwarts is you didn't need many uniforms. The rules called for three, but since the house elves picked up all the uniforms once everyone was asleep, made any necessary repairs, laundered and ironed them and returned them to their owners before they woke up the reason for the three was unclear.

Lori's uniform from the previous day was hanging on the end of the rail looking as fresh and new as it had when she’d first worn it. She suspected that there were two others to be found somewhere on the rack, but hanging beside her girl’s uniform were three additional uniforms with trousers and shirts that buttoned up the right way. Lori stared at them for a full minute, then noticed her trunk from home sitting at the end of the bed. It must have been delivered as Professor McGonagall had promised the previous day, only she'd been too tired to notice last night.

Lori took her boy's uniforms off the rack, folded them carefully and placed them in the trunk. She'd made her decision. Whatever else the future might bring, she knew what she was inside where it mattered, and she wasn't going to go back to the misery of her old life. It would take a ton and a half of misery in this new one to make it worse, and so far she hadn't noticed that much, certainly not more than she could cope with.

In the end, Anneka didn't take much longer than Lori had the previous day, so they were both ready and waiting in the common room with time to spare. A few of the other Hufflepuffs were sitting around, trying hard not to look at Lori, but not doing a great job.

She decided to be proactive for once. "Hey everyone," she announced. "I haven't had a chance to thank all of you for standing by me yesterday. I imagine there'll be more of the same today and for some time to come. If you feel like it's too much, putting yourself in the firing line all the time, I'll understand. I'm beginning to see the advantages of being in this house, and I know that you'll all be kind of okay when we're in here, which means I'll always have a refuge.

"For now, I'm guessing you'll have a few questions. Don't feel shy about asking. I want to be real with you guys, which means if you're honest with me and say when you're uncomfortable or uncertain, then I'll be as honest with you as I can. I don't pretend to know everything about what's going on, but I'll happily share what I do know."

It turned out to be the right thing to do. As the rest of Hufflepuff turned up, Lori fielded a barrage of questions, mainly about what had happened to her in the previous two days. When asked about their detention, Anneka said something vague about Hagrid getting them to clean some animals. It had taken longer than expected, but probably hadn't been as disgusting as Goyle's experiences in the owlery.

Arrival at breakfast involved a collection of ugly stares from the Slytherin table, one or two matching ones from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but mainly indifference from both houses. Lysander gave Lori a smile and a nod of approval, and team Hufflepuff descended on their table and the waiting breakfast.

Lori had an improved appetite compared to the previous morning, but she still limited her intake.

"Charms first," Anneka said as she buttered her second slice of toast.

"I have to see McGonagall after breakfast, remember?"

"Of course. You won't be too far away though. East staircase, third floor, classroom two-E. I'll save you a seat."

"Thanks. If I go now I probably won't miss as much." Lori stood and popped the last of her toast in her mouth. She circumnavigated a couple of casually placed feet as she passed the Slytherin table and endured a pat on the back from one who stood to congratulate her on her bravery. Lori didn't recognise the student in question, but he wasn't able to hide the smug expression as he rested his hand gently between her shoulder blades. The table erupted into laughter as the student sat back down.

Away from the hall, she slipped off her cloak and found not the note she'd been expecting sticking to it, but rather a crude image of her in a skirt with her male genitalia hanging down. Flushing with embarrassment, she folded the cloak to hide the picture and carried on to Professor McGonagall's office.

"Good morning Lori," the professor's mild brogue greeted her. Kind eyes turned steely. "May I have a look at your cloak?"

"It's nothing professor, I snagged it on the way here."

"If it was just a snag you'd still be wearing it. It's a cold day, Miss Scamander, I'd like to see for myself why you feel the need to carry it."

There wasn't much else to do but hand it over. With the image uncovered and Lori blushing a deep Gryffindor red, Professor McGonagall lay the cloak to one side. "I understand you don't want a reputation as a tattle-tale, young lady, but this is truly unacceptable behaviour."

She pulled a crystal ball out from a lower drawer in her desk and tapped it. A top down view of the Great Hall appeared and Lori saw herself walk out, avoiding legs and receiving the fateful pat on the back that had resulted in the marking of her cloak.

McGonagall pointed her wand at her neck. "Sonorus distributio," she said, then in a voice that spread throughout the school, "Raphael Maledicta, come to my office immediately. As for the rest of you Slytherin, if you can't keep your feet under your table during meal times, I may have to ask Mr Filch where he left his shackles before he died.

"Take this as a warning, I will be keeping a close eye on any students I suspect are being bullied for any reason, and any future occurrences will result in dire consequences indeed. One hundred points taken from Slytherin for this and yesterday's unacceptable behaviour, which I believe puts you at minus sixty-five. For the rest of this term, all members of any house that ends the day with negative house points will spend the following lunchtime scrubbing pans in the kitchen."

"Finite incantatem," she finished, then pointed at a chair.

Lori sat and remained in an uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes until the sound of footsteps approaching roused the professor from her musing.

"So, Miss Scamander," she said in a voice loud enough to be heard all the way down the corridor, "whilst I sympathise with your desire not to be seen as a squealer, if I find you attempting to withhold information about your being victimised again, you will receive the same punishment as the individual who did you harm, am I clear?"

"Yes Professor McGonagall."

"Maledicta, come in." The pale and out of breath face of Lori's recent assailant appeared in the doorway. "I believe you owe Miss Scamander a new cloak. Give her the one you're wearing."

"But professor…"

"I haven't yet decided how to proceed with your punishment young man. At this moment I am leaning towards contacting your parents, and any further insubordination on your part may persuade me that a temporary expulsion might be in order. I doubt that would look very good on your school record when you leave."

The boy's shoulders slumped and he unbuckled his cloak. then handed it across with a scowl.

"Now I think I'll let you wear this one for the rest of the day," she indicated Lori's marked one. "If anyone asks you about the image on it, you are to answer them, saying, 'I drew it because I have a filthy mind.' Now let's see how you do. Maledicta, what's that graffiti on the back of your cloak?"

"I drew it because I have a filthy mind," the boy incanted in a defeated voice.

"Good enough. Do you believe me when I tell you I will know if you haven't done this to everyone who asks?"

The boy nodded.

"The house elves will be informed of the change of ownership of these two cloaks. If it reaches me that you have attempted to reclaim this one, I will be informed and there will be further consequences. "

Maledicta fumed, but held his tongue.

"If you care to tell your father, that is entirely your affair. If he asks, I will of course have no choice but to tell him of the entire incident that resulted in the exchange, as well as reminding him of school policy, which both you and he signed your names to, that all pupils will be provided with the standard issue uniform available at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. This incident illustrates at least one reason for this rule — that if it becomes necessary to switch any part of a uniform, neither party will have lost out."

"Yes, professor." The words came out through clenched teeth.

"Lastly, you will report to me here at the end of the day for your detention. If you thought Goyle was unfortunate in what he had to endure, you will find there are far worse things to do around here than cleaning up after owls.

"Let this be a clear warning to you and anyone who cares to listen to you after this, I will not tolerate the victimisation of others in my school."

The look Maledicta gave before storming out of the office said it all. 'It's not your school, which you will find out if I have anything to do with the matter.'

"I don't understand, professor. What was all that about the cloak."

"Unless I miss my guess, the lining of that cloak is woven from demiguise hair. Not at all standard issue. When you return to your dormitory later, you may like to try wearing it inside out. If I'm right, you have just come into possession of a very rare and very valuable article of clothing, something I feel a lot happier with you owning rather than that miscreant.

"In any case, this is taking far longer than intended. Would I be correct in assuming your choice of clothing today reflects your choice of how you wish to proceed?"

Lori nodded.

"Then I should say I believe you have made a wise and brave decision. As mentioned previously, I will have to contact your parents over the matter, as well as Anneka's, if there is any hope of maintaining your current sleeping arrangements. I imagine they will take time out to come to the school and discuss the matter. I will inform you when they arrive.

"I believe you have a charms lesson now. You know the way?"

"East wing, third floor, classroom two-E."

"You have a good friend in Anneka. One last thing before you go. What I said to you as Raphael was approaching my office, do you believe the words were for his benefit or for yours as well?"

Lori swallowed. "I believe you mean everything you say, Professor McGonagall."

"Very good, at least you're learning something in all this time you're spending outside of the classroom. Let's not make a habit of these early morning meetings Lori, but I will expect to hear from you if something is amiss."

"Yes professor."

"Now go, I believe I owe Professor Mugglewump a visit."

Lori turned and hurried away, not quite running, but still as fast as she dared. The cloak was certainly lighter and warmer than her previous one, and the lining felt silky smooth, but what was that the professor had said about wearing it inside out?

-oOo-

Charms class was halfway through when she arrived. She realised she didn't have a note from McGonagall, but Professor Flitwick didn't seem to need one. He waved Lori into the seat next to Anneka and asked her to catch her friend up.

Everyone was attempting to levitate an owl feather, and most were failing badly. Anneka explained as best she could then then two of them started working in unison. Something clicked in Lori's mind, the motion of the wand needed to be just so and the pronunciation needed a little more emphasis on the second, seventh and last syllables. On her second try, her feather rose above all the others.

"Oh, well done, well done," Professor Flitwick had been keeping enough of an eye on the class that he'd noticed Lori's success almost immediately. "It's Scamander isn't it?. Your brother was here yesterday, so unusual to have you two in different houses. He got it quickly too, but not quite this quickly. So you must be…"

"It's Lori, sir." She didn't want to be referred to by her full name. That was something of the past.

"Lori, of course. That's Miss Scamander then?" Lori nodded. "Perhaps you could help those around you. Ten points to Hufflepuff for the quickest piece of learning I've ever encountered. Identical twin brother and sister, well I never."

The rest of the lesson passed swiftly during which time she demonstrated that she was as gifted at teaching as learning. She suspected her twin connection as being the reason things had clicked so swiftly. Lye's charms lesson had been the previous afternoon. She was pleased to sense their connection remained, despite their divergent paths. If anything it was stronger now than before.

Transfiguration followed Charms. Professor McGonagall taught when she could, but this was apparently one of her busy days, so a rather nervous young witch who introduced herself as Miss Mitchell took them through the rudiments. There was no magic in the first lesson, but a fair amount of complicated terminology and a few formulae which didn't make a lot of sense. It wasn't maths exactly. There were rules, but they seemed to be a little more fluid than anything Lori had encountered before. Her head was throbbing gently as the class ended. An owl flew in just as they were packing away.

"Lori? Anneka? Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office before you go to lunch. I'm sure it's nothing bad."

"Thank you Miss," Lori smiled, then to Anneka she said, "I'll tell you on the way."

Girls’ Changing Room – 3 – Family, friends and foes by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	Anneka and Lori have been called to the head mistress’s office

-oOo-
Some minutes later, with Anneka feeling considerably nervous about having her parents come into school, they arrived outside the head's office.

"Come in," McGonagall called as they approached.

Lori flinched and Anneka noticed for the first time how much more worried her friend was. Of course, this would be the first time her parents saw her like this. She forgot her own worries and put a comforting hand on Lori's shoulder. They shared nervous grins and stepped through the door.

"Ah, there you are," Lori's mother greeted her with a cheerful lilt. "You know, for a while I was worried we were going to lose you, but you found your way back to us after all."

Lori's dad seemed lost for words. He studied the face of the child in front of him — at once so familiar and so strange — but he didn't pause for more than a few seconds before opening his arms. Lori ran into them and clung to his neck. He held her to him, only too aware of the tears running down onto his shirt.

"I never saw it before, sweetheart," he murmured into her ear, "but now it's all I can see. I'm so sorry. It must have been so hard for you all these years."

"Daddy," Lori sobbed, but she had no more words. This was all that mattered, that her parents saw her and accepted her. She felt her mother's hand on her back. She thought about what she'd just said and turned to her. "You knew?" she asked.

"No, not really knew," Luna replied. "I knew something was wrong and that you were fading away. It all makes sense now though — why you couldn't tell us about it; why we could never have seen it. But everything's going to be okay. You found your way back. I can see you in there again, and you're not lost any more, so everything's going to be okay."

"Oh, Mummy!" She shifted to take them both into her embrace.

"I don't understand," a new voice said. The man was stout, with a butcher's body and loose jowls. His wife was very slim with wonderful hair. She had the look of magic about her whereas her husband didn't. "This is your daughter, Lori, and she's sharing with our Anneka. I don't see what the problem is. "

Lori disentangled herself from her parents and looked at Professor McGonagall, who nodded.

"Things aren't quite what they seem," she said. "How can I put this? Professor McGonagall, is there a reason why Lysander isn't here? He's as much a part of this as anyone."

"You're quite right." The professor opened a window and scribbled a short note in the time it took for an owl to land on the ledge. "Take this to Lysander Scamander," she said and the owl was gone.

"I'm sorry," Anneka's mother asked. "Who's Lysander."

"Er, he's my identical twin brother," Lori said.

Two very round ohs appeared in two faces. The nature of identical twins was as well known in magical circles as it was Muggle.

"When I arrived at Hogwarts, I was as much of a boy, on the outside at least, as my brother. He was sorted into Ravenclaw," Lori gave her mum a fond look, "and I ended up in Hufflepuff." She snuggled into her dad's lap, realising perhaps for the first time that her father had been in the same house as her great grandfather. "Then a whole bunch of things happened and I ended up in a dress which is where I should have been all along."

"So you're a boy?" Mr Peasbottom asked.

"Kind of yes and no. Physically yes, I couldn't have an identical twin brother otherwise. But in here," she pointed at her head, "and in here," she touched her chest, "I've always been a girl."

"And you're happy with these two sharing a room?" Mrs Peasbottom was suddenly protective of her daughter.

"She rode a unicorn last night mummy," Anneka said. "We both did."

"I beg your pardon," Mr Peasbottom interjected. "I don't remember seeing that on the curriculum."

"That's because it isn't on there Daddy. It was a sort of detention."

"For what?"

"It's not important right now. I deserved it, and Lori shared it with me as it was partly because of her that I got in trouble. We had to brush down these two unicorns as our detention, then when we were done they invited us to ride."

"And that all means what exactly?"

"Unicorns are rather selective about who they let ride them, Harry," Mrs Peasbottom said. "Same as in your stories, only it's real in our world."

"And that's enough of a reason to let our daughter share with a boy, even if he does think he's a girl, and wears dresses and rides unicorns and whatever?"

"Daddy, Lori really is a girl where it matters. She's been open and honest with me from the first. I'd trust her with anything."

"Mr Peasbottom, I do understand your concern," Professor McGonagall said. "I was worried too when first faced with the problem, but the current circumstance is a combination of many things. The Sorting Hat to start with would have known it would be necessary for these two to share and yet it still made the choice it did. The Room of Requirement appeared for Lori and made all of this not only possible but inevitable. The event with the unicorns came as a complete surprise, and I assure you, that does not happen to me often. It confirmed for me that matters are very much as they should be.

"If you need any further assurances I might remind you that all of the dormitories have protective wards cast on them to prevent any sort of mischief. Lori and Anneka couldn't act inappropriately even if they wanted to. Furthermore, they have already spent two nights together in the same room without anything happening that might concern either you or me."

"Mr and Mrs Peasbottom," Lori chipped in. "Anneka is a friend — my best friend here at Hogwarts and a better one than I could think to wish for. I wouldn't do anything to harm our friendship. I understand why our sharing a room worries you. Being a girl, as much as I can be one, is new to me, but I promise I won't be anything other than a girl and a friend to your daughter.

"If that’s not enough to make you feel comfortable, then I’ll accept that and agree to any alternative that brings you peace of mind."

The combined onslaught of goodwill wore them down. They looked across at Rolf and Luna. "Are you okay with this?" Mr Peasbottom asked.

Luna nodded emphatically and looked across at her husband, who shrugged. "You'll have to excuse me, but it's only in the last few minutes that I've discovered I have a daughter. Honestly though, whether you asked me today or last week before all this started, I'd tell you Lori could be trusted with anything.

"Actually, let me take that back and rethink slightly since I do now have a daughter. If Lori were sharing with a boy, I would be worried, not for any choice she'd make, but because I think it's inherent in us fathers of girls to worry about what the boy might get up to.

"This feels really strange to say, but if Anneka were sharing with Lysander," Lysander chose that exact moment to walk through the door, "then I'd say you had a right to be concerned, but not with Lori. Sorry Lye."

"No, you're right Dad. I don't think I'd trust myself to spend the night with a girl I fancied, but Lori would be fine. Call it a twin thing — we do sense stuff from each other sometimes — Lori's different, in a good way, in a way you can trust. Hey Lori."

"Hey Lye."

"Well, I'm not sure what to say," Mrs Peasbottom said.

"It's all right Myrtle. I recognise honest folk when I meet them. Professor McGonagall, would you please demonstrate the nature of the spells you have guarding my daughter's room to my wife. If she's satisfied, then that'll be good enough for me. I'll admit I don't understand your world too well, but I've learnt to trust my instincts and my wife's judgement."

"Thank you Daddy." Anneka stood bouncing gently next to her father, all pent up emotion contained.

"Oh come on you daft 'ap'orth, give your dad a hug at least."

And she did.

"Well, now that that's settled, perhaps we could enjoy a little lunch." Professor McGonagall stood. "Mr and Mrs Scamander, Mr and Mrs Peasbottom, I don't know what constraints you may have on your time…"

"None," Rolf said. "When we received your owl, we realised it had to be important, so we cleared the rest of the day."

"Same here," Harry added.

"Then I hope you'll accept my invitation to join us for luncheon as the school's guests. Anneka, Lori, Lysander, under the circumstances I'm prepared to excuse you this afternoon's lessons so you can spend some time with your parents. Perhaps I might suggest a picnic down by the lake? Not too close mind, you'll remember the grindylows."

"That's very kind of you," Rolf accepted for all of them while Harry quietly asked his wife what a grindylow was.

"I'll have some of the house elves bring a basket down to you." With that she ushered them down to the Clock-tower Courtyard and the bridge across to the open area that led down to the lake.

"You realise what she's doing, don't you?" Rolf asked anyone who might care to listen once they were out of her earshot. "If any of the other kids were to spot ours getting to see their parents during term time they'd likely be jealous, so she's shooing us out into the wilds where we're less likely to be seen."

"Do you think so?" Harry asked.

"I'm pretty sure. So you're a Muggle? How did you meet Myrtle here, and how do you feel about having a young witch in your family?"

It was a perfect afternoon. Clear skies, but cold. Lori was glad of her newly acquired cloak. Skirt and tights helped her to feel more like a girl, but they didn't do much to protect against the weather.

Lori and Lye spoke in a way they'd been missing for a long time. It was frustrating and fascinating to listen to at the same time. Neither spoke more than two or three words of any sentence before the other responded. It was impossible to follow what they were saying to each other, but once you accepted that, there was a kind of magic to watching it.

"I've not seen them like this in over five years," Rolf said to his wife. She nodded and leaned her head on his shoulder. They had their own way of communicating, and Luna's silent actions were as eloquent as any words. All was well with their children again.

The afternoon wore on. The Scamanders and Peasbottoms exchanged addresses, they chatted about whatever came to mind. Rolf learned more about the Muggle world from one afternoon's conversation than from years of observation. They were such strange creatures, these non-magical humans. Who could hope to discern their motives just from watching?

They walked to keep the cold at bay and enjoyed being with one another. As the afternoon wore on, the two families took different directions so they could have some privacy, which was as well because there was a question that still weighed on Lori's mind.

"Mum, Dad, what happens to me when, you know, puberty happens?"

"We face it together," Rolf said. "We'll find a way, won't we love?"

Luna nodded, but she had that away with the fairies look about her. It was more autonomic response than general communication.

"It looks like your mum's already working on it."

"Anneka found something in the potions book about how there used to be two sorts of beautification potion, one each for men and women. It talked about how this court jester, Randolph the Wreckless or something like that deliberately mixed the king and queen's potions and they ended up spending a year as each other. Do you think something like that might work?"

"Sounds promising. You'll at least find it easier to look like a woman, even if it's just looks. What did it say about this potion?"

"Well, the king and queen ordered the potion changed to what it is today, and the old recipes destroyed, but it said the jester may have made notes in his journal."

"So all you need to do is find this journal then."

"No-one's seen it for hundreds of years though."

"You'll be amazed at how many lost things turn up at just the right moment after being lost for centuries."

"You're making fun of me."

"I wouldn't dare. A son, sure, but mock a daughter at your peril."

"You're okay with this, right? I mean I know it's a bit of a surprise."

"It is that, but you have to realise, your mum and I have been worried about you for a long time. What's important is you're back. I won't say back to your old self, because this is definitely new, but you're back to being alive and interested in the world around you, back to chatting with your brother, back from being distant and withdrawn. I speak for both mum and myself in saying we'd have been prepared to sacrifice a lot more to have you back."

"So, you’re saying this is a sacrifice for you then?"

"You're twisting my words, love. Don’t look for the meaning you’re afraid to find in them. That aside, sure it's a sacrifice. Coming to terms with any change has a cost. Yesterday I knew without question that I had two sons, and today I find that one of them's my daughter. Not only that, but she's stuck in the body of a boy she never wanted to be. That's going to take some processing, and your mum and I have a whole new range of things to worry about, some of which you've already raised. So yes, a sacrifice, but one we're both glad to make because we can see you're better off this way. I don't think there's anything so painful as seeing your child die a little each day and feeling helpless to stop it. I'll take this over what we were dealing with and be glad of it.

"Besides, right now you are one beautiful little girl."

"And when that changes?"

"Problem for tomorrow, sweetheart. Today we all have this gift, which I'd like you to enjoy as much as the rest of us. Keep working the problem, the same as we'll keep working on it, but don't forget to live the days you're given.

"You know, I remember a bit from one of the stories your mum told us about Harry Potter. In his first year he came across something called the Mirror of Erised."

"I've seen it. It showed me what I'd be like if I was really a girl."

"Well take this to heart then. Harry saw his dead parents in the mirror and he couldn't get enough of them. Before Dumbledore removed the mirror, he told Harry,, what was it? 'It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.'

"Right now, your dream is every ordinary girl's reality, simply to be one. Right now you're closer to realising your dream than you ever have been before, but still there's a part of you wants that tiny bit extra that'd give you it all. As long as you spend your days wanting what you don't have, or looking for ways to get it in places that won't help, you'll be missing out on what you do have.

"You have an amazing friend, treasure that now. You look gorgeous. Maybe not as gorgeous as you'd like, but gorgeous enough. Maybe you'll lose it tomorrow, but that's a tragedy all women face if they live long enough. Today is not tomorrow, so cherish today, and if it presents an opportunity to put off tomorrow for a while longer then grasp that opportunity with both hands and a fierce gratitude in your heart. If it doesn't then you still have today.

"Last and by no means least, you have your family. Your brother, your mum and me. Remember today. Remember that we love you now and for always, no matter what. You weren't sure for a while there, but now you have evidence you can take to Gringots. Whatever happens in the future, you need not worry what we feel for you, because it's the same as what you can see and feel right now. We love you no matter what. We're with you no matter what."

"Thanks Daddy, you're the best."

"Don't you ever forget it."

"Oh yeah, Mummy I nearly forgot."

"Mmm?" It was as much as she'd said in over an hour.

"We had Professor Longbottom for herbology yesterday. He was really great. He talked to me about you afterwards, and said if I spoke to you any time, I should tell you he says hello."

"We could stay on a little if you want, love. Pop in on him at the end of the day and reminisce a little."

"We could if you’d like."

"I was thinking about what you might want."

"Oh, that's kind of you dear, but I'm okay. Perhaps you'd tell him hello from me too, Lori."

Rolf shrugged and looked at his two children. "Well, I guess that's that answered. Looks like the Peasbottoms are on their way back. I guess we'll wait to say goodbye to them, then we should be going. Anything you need from the old man while I'm here Lye?"

"Nah, I'm good. It's been a pretty amazing day."

The two families rejoined one another on the slope up to the covered bridge. Rolf asked how the Peasbottoms were getting home, and when Harry mentioned they had a car, his eyes lit up. “I imagine you have it parked outside Merlin’s Gate. Perhaps we could have a quick look before we head home.”

They made their way back up to the castle and through it to the main entrance where the Peasbottom’s car was indeed waiting. After Rolf had given the vehicle a quick look over the two families shook hands and doled out hugs to their offspring — the longest for Lori. With a final wave Rolf and Luna disapparated.

"I'm not sure I'd be happy travelling like that," Mr Peasbottom said. "Cars may be slower, but you know where you are with a car. Well Lori. If ever you’re in Leeds, let us know. We’d be glad to have you visit."

“Thank you, Mr Peasbottom. That’s very kind.”

The three of them watched as Anneka’s parents drove off towards the main road.

"Fancy hanging out later," Lori asked her brother.

"Nah, I have to catch up on what I missed this afternoon. Maybe at the weekend."

"Sure. See you around Lye."

"Yeah, later Lori."

"And then there were two," Anneka said. "What do you fancy doing, roomy?"

"I guess we could go back to the dorm and make it more our own, now that we know I'll be staying, I could transfer my things into one of the wardrobes."

"More like two given the amount of stuff you have."

"Hey, anytime you want to borrow something, just ask. Oh yeah, there's something Professor McGonagall said I should try with this cloak when I have a moment."

"What about your cloak? I mean I was going to ask about it, but what gives?"

"McGonagall made Maledicta swap it with me because he messed mine up, then she said she thought the lining was made from, what did she say it was? Began with a D."

"Demiguise?"

"Yeah, I think that was it. "

"Oh, wow!" Anneka grabbed her friend's hand and ran. They managed to avoid being spotted by teachers and prefects alike and made it back to the Hufflepuff common room out of breath but intact.

"What’s this all about?" Lori asked.

"Come and find out," Anneka pulled her through to their dorm before finally letting go. "Right, turn it inside out and wrap it around you."

"What, like this? Hey, what's wrong."

"Look down."

"What? Hey what the… where's my body gone?"

"It's still there. Let's have a look in the hood. Yes, I knew it. Look, see how the lining is doubled? It means you can pull the whole thing over your head like this."

"What's happening?" Lori was beginning to panic.

"What's happening is you're now inside your own personal invisibility cloak. Demiguise hair, very rare, very expensive, very much not allowed in Hogwarts, except McGonagall gave it to you. Wow, this is so amazing!"

Lori wasn't so sure. She hung the cloak at the back of her wardrobe, then filled the rest of the space with clothes from her rack until even she could barely find it. In the process of unpacking, she discovered the other two girl uniforms. She decided to switch to one of them the following day.

Despite Anneka's earlier jibe, she managed to squeeze everything from the rack into a single wardrobe. Having made her point, she then accepted her friend's advice and shared her things between two to reduce the likelihood of especially her nicer things being crushed or creased.

The rack disappeared shortly after being emptied leaving them with so much space they didn't know what to do with it. Teatime had crept up on them though. Lori grabbed one of her spare cloaks and headed off to dinner with her friend in tow.

-oOo-

McGonagall was waiting for them when they returned. She'd been perched on the end of Lori's bed, but rose as they entered.

"Where is it?" she asked.

Lori didn't need to be a Ravenclaw to figure out what the head mistress was asking about. She went to the closer of her two wardrobes, retrieved the cloak and handed it to the professor.

"Maledicta thought he'd be clever," she said, stroking the cloak to smooth out some infinitesimal wrinkle only she could see. "While you were enjoying your tea and I was giving the young man his detention, he sent a couple of his friends to retrieve this. Unfortunately for them, they were unaware of the ward which alerts all teachers whenever there's a boy in a girls' dormitory or vice versa."

"Erm…"

"The wards are old enough to have grown some level of independent intelligence, Lori. They seem to agree with pretty much every other magical creature or device you've encountered here at Hogwarts, that you are indeed a girl, at least in every way that counts."

"The lady in the mirror didn't think so."

"You said she had the air of a Muggle about her," McGonagall said. "I met her the other night and I tend to agree. Whatever else may be said of her, she hasn't the least amount of magic in her, just a mild prejudice born of some painful memories.

"In any case, I was tempted to let the two miscreants get away with their theft, just so they could learn the futility of their actions when the house elves returned it to you. Unfortunately I'm all too familiar with individuals like Maledicta, and I rather feel that he'd destroy the cloak rather than allow you to have it, and that would be a waste. Both of the exquisite workmanship that went into its making and, more importantly, of the death of the rare and magnificent creature whose pelt was used in its manufacture.

"Maledicta and his friends are currently sharing the same detention — removing spiny limpets from the bottoms of all the boats down at the boathouse. It's a task that should occupy all their free time between now and the end of the week, but I suspect they'll come looking for you at their earliest opportunity.

"Now there are a number of reasons I insisted that Maledicta exchange cloaks with you, Lori, but one in particular. You have realised what this is, have you not?"

"Yes professor. It's why I put it in the wardrobe, to keep it safe."

"Well, laudable as your intentions may be, may I suggest that the safest place for it — for you and the cloak, mind — is on your back."

She handed the cloak back to Lori.

"I suspect Maledicta will do everything he can to get it back. I would be grateful if you'd do everything in your power to prevent that from happening.

"I also suspect that Maledicta and his cronies aren't the only ones in the school who disapprove of what you're doing right now. I assure you, you have the support of the school itself and the teaching staff, but there are some places where you will find yourself beyond our protection. This is why I took advantage of the opportunity to give it to you in the first place, so you would have an edge where needed. Do you understand?"

"Yes professor. Thank you."

"You can thank me by catching up on the lessons you missed this afternoon. I see you've adequately settled into your room now, so you've nothing to distract you from working. I believe Melody Sharpe's notes are both legible and largely complete. I'm sure she'll let you borrow them for a few hours if you ask nicely."

With that she left the room.

-oOo-

They didn't see Maledicta till the weekend. He approached them with two friends forming a truncated V behind him. All of them had bandaged hands, which forced Lori and Anneka to look everywhere but at each other in order to keep from laughing. Maledicta noticed and had a battle of his own to keep the anger from his face.

"Lorcan," he said with forced cheerfulness. "I had your cloak cleaned. No nasty image on the back, see?" He showed Lori's old cloak. "So hopefully no hard feelings and we can swap back?"

"Sorry Raph," Lori said with a cheerful smile. "McGonagall told us we should switch, so I guess that's your cloak now. Besides, what's to say you haven't jinxed it so something even nastier happens when I take it from you?

"Anyway, aren’t they both just ordinary cloaks? I mean school rules say you should only have the ordinary ones, which means it's just a like for like swap, so no big deal, right?"

Lori and Anneka walked on by giggling softly. Maledicta, meanwhile, stared murder at their backs.

Lori used some of her spare time back at the dorm practising turning the cloak inside out and pulling the second layer of lining in the hood over her face. She had it down to just under a second, which she figured would be quick enough. In any pursuit, she should be able to dash down a corridor and out of site for at least that long. The only potential nasties who'd know she had the invisibility cloak at all would be Maledicta and his friends, and even with them, not knowing where she'd vanished would make it all but impossible for them to begin their search.

-oOo-

She only needed to use the cloak twice during the first term. Other than that, she treated it as just a normal article of clothing. The temptation to use it to sneak out was immense, but she valued the trust McGonagall had put in her and she wasn't about to betray it.

As the end of term approached, she felt a weight settling on her. She didn't realise what it was until Anneka asked her an innocent question one evening.

"So what are you doing over the holidays?"

And there it was, like a lump of lead where her heart should have been.

"I hadn't really thought about it," she said, sitting rather heavily on her bed. "Probably going back to being my old self for a couple of weeks."

"What? Why?"

"All our friends and neighbours know me as Lorcan, so it's going to be a bit awkward if I turn up looking like this."

It was after dinner, so the two were relaxing in a comfortable alternative to their uniforms and working together on a homework project. It gave them an excuse to spend the time together in their dormitory rather than packed into the cosy common room with the others. They didn't see it as being antisocial — they spent enough time with the others — but Lori felt uncomfortable after a while in crowded places, so the dorm gave her especially something of a respite.

Anneka put a hand on her friend's thigh. "Have you spoken to your parents about this?"

"No, but there's no point? I mean I know they're okay with me being like this, like Lye is, but if I go home as Lori, we all get to endure two weeks of finger pointing and stupid questions, and maybe worse. If I go as Lorcan, everyone's happier, so there's no choice really.."

"What you mean is everyone's happier except you."

"I'm okay with that."

"Try telling your face."

Lori managed a sad smile and put her hand on Anneka's.

"It'll be okay. It's only two weeks so I should manage."

"And what about the Easter holidays, and the summer? What about when you leave school? This can't just be your life here at Hogwarts. If it was important enough for you to do at all, it has to be important enough to do all the time"

"Even if I ruin Christmas for everyone?"

"You think moping around pretending to be a boy won't do that? Don't you remember what your parents told you when they visited? They're just happy to have you back!"

"Anni, I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do, but who are we kidding? I mean I can pull this off for now, but what do I do when I start to change? I don't want to go back to the way things were, but I don’t see that I have much of a choice. One day soon I'm going to end up looking more like my dad than my mum and then what am I going to do?"

"You know what? I think you're just afraid to hope. You've spent so much of your life believing there's no solution to your problem that even now, with your family supporting you, your friends supporting you, the school supporting you, you're still afraid that things aren't going to work out. "

"We're still a long way from finding a way for them to work out though."

"Do you know what a self-fulfilling prophecy is? My dad told me about it before I came here. I was so convinced no-one would like me and I'd end up without any friends, he said I was in danger of coming here with an attitude that would make it impossible for people to like me. 'You can believe things will work out for the best or for the worst,’ he said, ‘and the one you choose to believe in is the one that's most likely to come true, because you will help to make it come true.’”

"Does that really work?"

"Sure. It worked for me didn't it? I came here believing I was going to make friends. I made an effort on the first night we were here and I made loads. I even managed to pave the way for the best friendship I've ever had, and that started when I woke up in this room for the first time."

It took Lori a second or two to realise what Anneka meant. She looked up at her friend and found such love and acceptance there that she couldn't help but let go of the blackness.

"Look," Anneka said, "you're right that we haven't found a solution yet, but we have time and we already have one lead. We have most of the professors on our side, so why don't we ask them? You never know, they may have been thinking about it already."

"And if they don't have any ideas?"

"Then at least we've exhausted one avenue of research, and probably more importantly we'll have done something. 'A rudder only works if the boat is moving.'"

"What?"

"Another of Dad's collection of wise words, along with, 'A boat has to start moving in the wrong direction before it can turn onto the right course.' He likes his nautical sayings does my dad."

"He doesn't look much like a sailor."

"He's not, but my aunt bought him a book for Christmas called 'Sayings of the Sea' and he's been quoting it ever since.

Without realising it they'd managed to talk through their study time. They left their homework for another evening and starting getting ready for bed. Lori gave her friend an appreciative hug, which Anneka returned wholeheartedly before they both climbed under the covers.

"Anneka?" Lori's voice was muffled by her bedding.

"Mmm?"

"Do you think it's worth asking Mugglewump too?"

"Let me talk to him." Anneka had her own reasons for wanting to talk to the potions professor. It wasn't something she'd been looking forward to, but now she had that little bit more added incentive.

-oOo-

"What do you want?" Professor Mugglewump had been less than cordial to either Anneka or Lori all term, ever since McGonagall had come into his class to find the Ravenclaw students scrubbing furiously at their cauldrons while the Slytherins sat in a different part of the classroom brewing up a cure for boils.

A quick inspection revealed every cauldron except those owned by Anneka, Lori and the Slytherins had been scrubbed down to the bare metal. McGonagall had left without saying a word, but had later summoned Mugglewump to her office and apparently instructed him to replace every damaged cauldron at his own expense.

The potions professor had suspected Lori and Anneka of being the source of his trouble. Without proof he'd not been inclined to take overt action, but the suspicion was enough to leave him bearing a grudge toward the two of them.

It came out in little ways. Snide comments in the classroom, lower Mark's in potions homework, unpleasant glares across the classroom, and now this irritable impatience towards Anneka when she approached him.

"Er, I have a couple of questions, professor."

"Well I only have time for one."

It was petty and left Anneka with a choice. She settled on the more pressing matter.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about polyjuice potion," Anneka said warily.

"Why would you want to know about something like that?" Mugglewump snapped. "It's a highly complex brew and you don't know anywhere near enough to be able to attempt it yourself."

"I know that sir. I was wondering if there was any way I might get hold of some. It's for a friend, for a Christmas present."

"For that freak, I suppose? You want to give him a taste of being a real girl? I've no intention of wasting my time and effort over something as frivolous as that, now get out."

It wasn't a surprise that the professor had worked out the reason for her request, after all, she hadn't tried to hide anything, but it was upsetting nonetheless, and she still wore something of a long face when she turned up early for her herbology lesson.

Professor Longbottom saw her distress and asked her about it. She could hear the rest of the class approaching, so she answered as briefly as she could, explaining what she was after and how Professor Mugglewump had turned her down flat.

"See me after class," he said briefly before standing to welcome the rest of the students.

"What happened to you?" Lori asked as she sat down next to her room-mate. "You rushed off so quickly after charms I couldn't keep up."

"Sorry, I remembered I forgot something," Anneka said.

"Maybe I should get you a remembrall for Christmas." It was kind of a fishing statement of the sort Lori had been making for some weeks, but more as a kind of smokescreen. She'd decided ages back what she wanted to give Anneka for Christmas and had taken the risk of enlisting Hagrid's help in harvesting a few dozen unicorn tail hairs, which she'd then woven into a bracelet. For once Hagrid had been able to keep the secret, and hadn't given anything away.

Under professor Flitwick's guidance she'd then enchanted the bracelet to change colour depending on the strongest mood nearby - a useful gift for any Hufflepuff, but in Anneka's case just that little bit more so. There were still a lot of students at Hogwarts who disliked Lori for her differences, and Anneka by association. Anneka was a naturally trusting soul and Lori hoped her gift would make it easier for her friend to see when the person she was talking to held any malice or dislike towards her.

Professor Longbottom's prediction that herbology lessons wouldn't be as entertaining as his first had proven true, but he was still able to instil something of his enthusiasm and humour into the lessons, so Anneka and Lori remained fans of his classes. In this one they all repotted mandrakes, which screamed hideously when uprooted from the soil. They were only young specimens, so the cries weren’t fatal, but even with protective earmuffs they were unpleasant, and without might have ended up putting a student in the hospital wing for a day or two. Sharing the lesson with Ravenclaw meant that everyone took the lesson seriously and it passed without incident.

“Professor Longbottom asked to have a word with me,” Anneka said as she and Lori put away their earmuffs. “I’ll join you outside in a minute.”

Neville looked up as Anneka tentatively stepped into his field of view. “Ah, Miss Peasbottom.” He turned and rummaged under a shelf for a minute, sitting back with a small sealed flask in his hands. “I wonder if you’d be interested in trading with me for this. Back in the days of Dumbledore’s Army, Hermione Granger brewed up a whole batch of polyjuice potion and gave one to each of us. Something we could use in an emergency if we ever needed to sneak into a Death Eater camp, or maybe escape from one. Just add a hair from whoever you want to be, give it a swirl and swallow it down. This is the one she gave me.

"I've never known a witch more gifted than Hermione, and it always seemed the more complicated the magic the better she was at it. Did you know she first brewed one of these in her first year? She was a lot more accomplished when she put this together, so if I were to guess, I'd say it was good for at least twelve hours."

“That’s amazing!” Anneka exclaimed. “But don’t you need it?”

“I didn’t need it back then, and I seriously doubt I’ll need it now. Between you and me, it tastes pretty awful, so I’d need to be desperate before I drank it. For Lori, I suspect the benefits will outweigh the unpleasantness.“

“How did you know…”

“Please Anneka, it’s not exactly hard to guess.”

“So what would you like to trade for it?”

In response the young professor pointed to a row of succulent but foul smelling plants. “I have some bubotubers in need of harvesting. I wondered if you’d be prepared to help me with them this evening.”

“For this,” Anneka pointed at the flask of polyjuice, “I’d happily do them all.”

“Well, I couldn’t ask you to do that. Besides, we’ll get them done in less than half the time if there are two of us working on them. Come by after you’ve eaten your supper and we’ll conclude our deal.”

“Thank you Professor Longbottom, you’re a life-saver. I'll see you later."

Anneka ran off to find Lori, excited to have just what she'd wanted to find. It wasn't a solution to her friend's problem but it might give her the necessary incentive to try harder to look for one.

They headed off for lunch with Lori asking what Neville had wanted. Anneka made up some excuse about the professor having some questions about Muggles. She didn't feel great about lying to her friend, but she knew that if she mentioned the bubotuber pus harvest, Lori would insist on helping. As it was, she didn't have to keep the pretence up for long.

On their way to the Great Hall they passed Professor McGonagall with a well dressed wizard who's otherwise handsome features were spoilt by the permanent scowl he wore. He stared at Lori as they passed. McGonagall caught Lori's eye and gestured subtly to her cloak.

"Who do you think that was?" Anneka asked as they rounded a corner.

"I don't know," Lori answered, "but I think I'm about to find out." Before Anneka could protest, she flipped her cloak around and pulled the lining over her face. "Save me a seat," she whispered before rushing off in pursuit of the head and her guest.

She caught up with them near McGonagall's office and managed to slip in ahead of them and settle into an empty space on the professor's side of the desk.

"Please, take a seat, Augustus. Would you like some tea?"

"I didn't come here to pass the time of day, Minerva. I've been a little concerned not to have received any owls from my son this term, so I fire-talked with him the other night…"

"You did what?!" Minerva almost stood up from her chair. "Augustus, you do know that the school forbids parents from contacting their children directly during term time?"

"Oh pish Minerva. I was concerned. You'd have done the same…"

"I most certainly would not! There is a procedure, Mr Maledicta. First you contact me to find out if something is the matter, and if you aren't satisfied with the answers I can give you, you request to come and visit with your son so that I can make arrangements that do not disturb the rest of the school. I do not appreciate your undermining my authority in this way…"

"No, Professor McGonagall, what you do not appreciate is anyone outside the school discovering some of the questionable decisions you've been making. As I say, I talked to my son and he told me a number of things that have me very concerned indeed."

"Such as?"

"Your employing a mudblood as a teacher here for one."

"Miss Mitchell is a highly competent teacher Augustus, and she's not the first Muggle-born to teach at the school. I only wish I could have persuaded Hermione Granger to stay on, but she chose to join the Ministry of course. I don't seem to recall you complaining about that."

"A totally different matter. It's not right exposing young witches and wizards to her sort at such an impressionable age."

"You mean you'd rather indoctrinate young folk with your disgusting prejudice before they have a chance to see that there's no difference between Muggle-born and older wizarding families, except perhaps that those from humble origins tend to behave more honourably."

"Then what's this I hear about your allowing a boy to parade about the school in a dress?"

"That business is a private matter between myself, the pupil in question and her parents. It is precisely this sort of reason why I do not permit unsanctioned communication between parents and students during term time other than via owl. It's very easy to get the wrong idea from a conversation as you evidently have."

"And just what wrong idea do I have about your permitting a deviant on campus? I can only imagine how disturbing this must be for other students here."

"Did you see signs that any of the students seemed disturbed?"

"Hardly likely when you evidently had this individual hidden away for my visit."

"Would it surprise you to know that you passed the student in question in the corridor a while ago?"

"Hah! So that was him. I thought I recognised my son's cloak. Raphael told me about that too. How you forced him to exchange cloaks with this freak then put him in a dangerous detention with his friends."

"Yes, I imagine he did. Blew smoke in your face then slipped in the half-truth while you were busy sputtering about matters which are none of your concern."

"My son's welfare is very much my concern."

"I don't suppose your son was honest enough to inform you of the grotesque image that he hexed onto this other student's cloak, the reason I insisted he make the exchange? Nor do I suppose he described the 'hazardous' nature of the detention I set for him and then his friends after he sent them to steal back the cloak? Would you agree with him that removing spiny limpets from the underside of the lake boats presents an unacceptable risk, or perhaps that the punishment is undeserved for an unprovoked attack on a first year student?"

Augustus Maledicta turned a particularly dangerous shade of red. Certain veins on his forehead throbbed as though they were at risk of bursting.

"I want my son's property returned to him," he yelled.

"Mr Maledicta," McGonagall's voice was, by contrast, the epitome of calm. "I will not be spoken to in such a manner. Your son wilfully damaged the uniform of another student. This happens from time to time and I have found that the simplest resolution is a like for like exchange. This, as I'm sure you're aware, is the reason we insist that all uniforms be bought from the same shop, so that such exchanges are fair and equitable. Your son was given the cloak he defaced in fair exchange, so unless there's something that you and Raphael aren't telling me, I consider the matter closed."

"This isn't over, Professor McGonagall." Raphael's father stood.

"No, I imagine you don't believe it is," Minerva sighed. "As if I didn't have enough work to do without having to deal with frivolous complaints like this." She stood. "If we're done?"

"For now. Since you're so busy I'll see myself out."

"Do you not want to visit with your son? It would be a shame to miss him after you've come all this way."

"I don't have the time."

"Well, be sure and take yourself well away from the castle grounds before you leave Mr Maledicta. I wouldn't want you to get caught in one of the protective spells preventing apparation within school bounds."

That appeared to be one gentle taunt too many. Augustus Maledicta turned with an overly dramatic swirl of his cloak and strode out the room.

"You might follow him and find out what he's up to, Miss Scamander," McGonagall said quietly while perusing a letter she'd lifted from a depressingly tall pile.

"Yes professor," Lori said under her breath and ducked out before the door closed.

It seemed Augustus had no intention of leaving immediately. He made his way down corridors towards the dungeon area where the Slytherin common room was located. He proved to be reasonably good at avoiding people, and made his way there without being seen by anyone but Lori.

She kept a reasonable distance back to ensure no sound from her footsteps, quiet as they were, would reach her quarry. For a moment she thought he was going to go into the Slytherin common room, but at the last, he walked past it into a dank and shadowy stretch of corridor where there were no torches.

He cast lumos under his cloak leaving only a very dim light to follow. Lori had to slow down as the floor was scattered with puddles she couldn't see in the gloom. One careless step would make enough noise to give away her presence. She slowed further as she saw two dim stationary lights ahead, edging only very gradually into earshot.

"...foolish idiot. Of course she wouldn't give it back to me. I can't believe you were so careless. Do you have any idea how much these things cost?" In the darkness Lori could just make out one figure passing a package to the other.

"Sorry Dad, but that freak…"

"Should have been none of your concern. Yes he's an abomination, but you're here for a reason, don't forget that, and it's far more important than any boy in a dress."

No surprise Augustus was meeting with his son, or that they should be talking about her, Lori thought, but what was the reason Meledicta Senior had mentioned? She strained to hear what would come next.

"Of course I haven't forgotten, but I'm hardly likely to have made any progress without one of these, am I? I've been trying for weeks to get my cloak back, but neither the old bat nor her little pet have given me an opening."

"It doesn't matter, what's done is done, but your incompetence has put our plans back weeks and there are some in the Order who aren't at all happy. You'd better have something to report by the end of term or…"

"I will Dad, don't worry. I won't let that little witch-boy distract me again."

"I should go before someone wonders why they haven't seen me leave. Give me two minutes before you follow."

The older man came back towards Lori who pressed herself against the dank stonework to allow him room to move past. Lori breathed out gently and continued to observe Raphael as he unwrapped the parcel and pulled out a piece of cloth, much like the lining of the one she was wearing. He discarded the wrapping and threw the cloak over his shoulders, vanishing from view, the only evidence of his location being the faint glow of his wand.

Again Lori pressed herself back against the wall and held her breath as the dim glow bobbed past. She remained still until it had completely disappeared from sight, then waited a minute longer in the darkness before casting her own lumos spell and retrieving the packaging. It probably wouldn't tell them anything useful, but at least it was evidence of what she'd witnessed.

She made her way back out of the dark corridor, extinguishing her spell as soon as she could see a hint of light ahead. It was slow work, but she made it back out of the dungeon certain that no-one had seen her.

Back at McGonagall's office, she listened to make sure the head teacher was alone and slipped inside.

"You know I don't normally approve of this sort of behaviour," the professor said quietly.

Lori removed the cloak. "I'm sorry professor…"

"But there are times when it is necessary. What did you find out?"

Lori summarised her recent excursion, leaving nothing out.

"Hmm, so it is more than just the posturing of some privileged child, and he has another invisibility cloak. Whatever it is they're after, they must want it very much. Lori, I apologise but I'm going to have to ask something more of you which, among other things, will mean you'll miss lunch with your friend today. I'll send for some sandwiches, but I'd like to teach you a spell that I discovered before I became an animagus."

Girls’ Changing Room – 5 – End of Term by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	Midweek update, which is better than you lot deserve. One measly comment! How am I supposed to get by on that? Thanks Heather, by the way. It was beginning to feel like Siberia for a moment.

-oOo-
"Where were you, and what on Earth has happened to your face!?" Anneka hissed when Lori finally arrived five minutes before the end of lunch.

"I'll explain everything later, but first I need a distraction so I can get close to Maledicta."

One thing Lori was beginning to appreciate about Anneka, once she knew it mattered, she didn't waste time asking questions. She responded immediately, rising to her feet and making straight for the Slytherin table, towards one individual in particular who'd been sneering at her through most of the lunch break and who was now suddenly looking a lot less sure of himself.

“What is your problem?” Anneka raged at him. “You’ve been leering at me for the last hour and it is really freaking me out.” She leaned in close causing him to recoil and capturing the attention of everyone nearby.

It was all Lori needed. She'd started to leave the moment Anneka began her assault, but the disturbance allowed her to divert slightly and pass within a few feet of her own target, pausing very briefly as she came level with his chair. She was gone before anyone realised she'd been there.

“Nothing to say?” Anneka continued her onslaught while her friend escaped unnoticed. "Well, if you don't have the guts to confront me directly would you at least have the manners just to leave me alone!" She fired her final salvo and hurried after Lori, leaving the entire Slytherin table laughing at the crazy Hufflepuff. She caught up with her roommate in the corridor outside.

“Finite incantatem,” Lori said.

“That’s a second-year spell!” Anneka hissed. “How do you know it already?”

“Part of the reason I’m so late,” Lori explained. “Come on, I'll tell you what I can while we walk." She took Anneka by the arm and pulled her down a more or less deserted corridor.

"So, what were you doing casting it on yourself?" Anneka wanted to know as soon as they were alone.

"To change myself back to something recognisably me," she answered shortly. "Look, I'll tell you everything when we're back in the dorm. It's a little exposed out here. For now, that spell is apparently a lot easier to use to end a spell you cast on yourself. To use it on other people's magic takes a lot more finesse and can have some unpleasant side effects. McGonagall only taught it to me once I'd promised only to use it as you saw me doing. The rest will have to wait." She nodded towards a Slytherin student ahead of them who was leaning against a wall looking altogether too nonchalant.

Anneka fidgeted through the rest of the afternoon taking in very little of the day's remaining lessons. Immediately afterwards they headed off to the first sitting for dinner so she could keep her promise to Professor Longbottom. Once they'd eaten, Lori walked with her as far as the greenhouses. She seemed a little preoccupied, so Anneka left her to her own thoughts. As their destination came into sight, she seemed to rouse.

"Thanks for having my back at lunch," she said.

"What are friends for?" Anneka shrugged.

"I'm going to have to ask one more thing from our friendship before I explain everything." Lori said, unable to meet her friend's eyes.

Anneka stopped. "Go on."

"You'll understand when you get back to the dorm," Lori replied. "I just need you to trust me until I have a chance to explain in private."

"You've never given me a reason not to." So, what was different this time? Anneka chose faith over curiosity. "Of course I trust you."

Lori gave her friend a smile and a hug. "See you later. Enjoy your discussion on Muggles."

Lori turned and left. It was almost as though she knew of Anneka's deception and had been testing her. She shook it off and made her way towards greenhouse one and a couple of hours squeezing bubotuber polyps.

-oOo-

It was almost curfew when she finally made her way back to the Hufflepuff common room with Lori's present tucked inside her robes. There were a few Hufflepuffs sitting around reading or chatting quietly. One of them — Allys Greenwood, another first year — looked up from her book and said, "Your girlfriend's in your room." She meant it good naturally, but it left Anneka blushing furiously. She mumbled a thank you and headed off towards the dorms.

Lori wasn't there. There was a mound in her bed, but it proved to be made up of bedding. Additionally, there was a piece of parchment — apparently blank — lying on Anika's pillow. She picked it up.

They'd been learning about enchanting howlers in charms class, along with their lesser-known equivalent, whyspers — a means of communicating in secret. Like the howler, the whysper only activated on the touch of its intended recipient. What was different was the volume of the message. The parchment would form itself into a mouth and move close to the ear of the person it was intended for. The message would then be whispered so quietly only the one person could hear it, then the page would quietly tear itself up.

"McGonagall's asked me to keep an eye on Maledicta tonight. If anyone asks, I went to bed feeling unwell. If I get caught, tell them where you were this evening, then say you went to bed early and didn't see me sneak out. It's pretty much the truth anyway, so you shouldn't get in trouble. I'll explain everything when I see you next."

Anneka threw the shreds of paper into her bin then stripped off for a long bath. She'd worn protective gear during the harvest, so she didn't smell particularly, it was just that the stench of the pus made it into your nostrils leaving you feeling dirty. She tried to let the hot water soak away her worries, but the thought of Lori out in the corridors alone concerned her. Sure, McGonagall had asked her, but from the way she'd worded her message the mission wasn't exactly sanctioned.

She did go to bed early, but she couldn't sleep. She lay awake staring at the canopy of her bed and imagining all the things that might be going wrong for Lori. Filch's ghost may have caught her and chained her up. Worse, she may have been caught by one of the professors and be facing disciplinary action. Maybe Maledicta and his friends had caught her. They wouldn't try anything so terrible as one of the unforgivable curses, surely, but there was still a lot more they could do that wouldn't be pleasant.

She tried to distract herself by thinking about her reaction to Alyss's comment earlier. Why had she blushed so deeply? Yes, she liked Lori, a lot, but as a girlfriend? She felt a warmth spreading inside her which told her there had to be some truth to the idea. But there was something else to confuse the matter. Was it the boy she liked or the girl? Would she feel the same way if Lori was all girl and not just where it mattered? She'd never thought of herself as being into girls, but then she'd never really thought much about her attraction to boys either. Her parents had protected her from the more confusing aspects of the whole boy-girl thing, and she knew they expected her to bring a boy home one day. Whether they now expected that boy to be wearing a skirt was another matter, and how upset they might be when that boy ultimately turned into a girl was yet another.

She felt strongly that her parents’ opinion on the matter needed to be considered, but more than anything, she had to decide for herself. Lori was definitely special to her. She knew they would always be the closest of friends, but could there be anything deeper if she did get what she'd always wished for? Would they remain close if she didn't and had to go back to being a boy? She'd felt sorry for Lorcan, but she'd truly grown to like — more than like — Lori.

It was confusing. The great clock chimed half past midnight, and she was almost tired enough to fall asleep when the sound of the door opening and closing roused her.

"Lumos," she whispered and in response to her muted words, a spark of incandescence formed at the end of her wand.

A head appeared in mid-air, the eyes glowing amber in the dim light, the nose misshapen. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

"Finite incantatem." The face said and transformed into something more familiar. The remainder of the attached body appeared as Lori removed her cloak.

"Wow! I thought I was being visited by the Cheshire Cat for a minute there," she whispered.

"The what?"

"The… Oh right, I keep forgetting. Most people here don't get to read Muggle literature."

"What's a Cheshire Cat," Lori persisted as she quickly shed her clothes and changed for bed.

"A cat that always smiles and keeps disappearing and reappearing, bits at a time. It's in a story — Alice in Wonderland."

"Was I smiling then?"

"No, but you definitely looked like a cat, and it was your head I saw first."

"Oh right. Sounds a bit odd to me, but okay." She changed quickly before climbing into her bed.

Anneka was having none of it. She clambered out of her bed and into Lori's. "You promised me an explanation," she whispered.

"If you're not too tired."

"Look, I won't be able to shut my eyes until I know something of what's been happening. What's with the cat look?"

"Felis sensorium." Lori's smile was all cat who got the cream, which was oddly appropriate. "McGonagall said she discovered it when she was young, but I'm not sure she didn't invent it. It’s a sort of partial transfiguration that gives you the senses of a cat for the duration of the spell, but as you saw it also gives you some of the appearance of one too."

"Why would she teach you that?"

"Better night vision for one thing. No need for a lumos spells to give away my position. Then there's the heightened sense of smell. Cat's noses aren't as good as most dogs but better than any human."

"So, what did you need a better sense of smell for? Did it have anything to do with what you were up to at lunchtime?"

"Yeah. When I snuck off earlier, I followed McGonagall and that man to her office. It turned out he was Maledicta's dad. He made all sorts of complaints — did you know Miss Mitchell was Muggle-born?"

"No, but it does explain why she has a Muggle surname. Don't tell me the Maledicta's are Purists?"

"All the way. Anyway, he tried to get his son's cloak back, then when McGonagall told him no way, he went off in a huff.

"As soon as he was gone, she told me to follow him. He went down to the dungeons where he met Raphael and gave him a new invisibility cloak."

"Wow, they must be loaded."

"Well yeah, but more than that, Raphael's here looking for something. They didn't say what, so when I reported back to the professor, she asked me to keep an eye, or rather a nose, on Raphael this evening."

"She taught you the cat spell so you could follow him even if he was sneaking around under an invisibility cloak."

"Exactly, and finite incantatem so I could end the spell before anyone saw my face. I needed to get a sniff of Maledicta at lunchtime, so I knew what smell I was following."

"So how did it go?"

"I'm not sure. I waited outside the Slytherin common room for what felt like hours before the door opened and Raphael's scent appeared. I followed him deep into the dungeons until even my eyes weren't much good. We went through a number of locked doors — you know it wouldn't surprise me if the Maledicta's wealth comes from burglary — and into a storage section that’s out of bounds to students. I watched him as he hunted about for ages and around the time I was beginning to think we were going to be there all night, he opened this old iron banded stone box and found what looked like a lump of greenish rock.

"He took the rock and left the box, then headed back to his dormitory. McGonagall told me to report to her in the morning, so I came back here. And that's pretty much all that happened. How was your evening with Neville? Did you tell him about Cheshire Cats and this Alice in Wonderland?"

"No, it was a bit more boring than that. I helped him harvest some bubotubers and I told him about what my dad did." As with Lori's whysper, the story she told was pretty much the truth, just not all of it.

They sat quietly for a moment, Anneka feeling suddenly very self-conscious. "Do you mind if I try something?" she asked.

"Of course not."

Anneka moved slowly closer, tentative and uncertain, constantly looking for some sign of how welcome or otherwise her approach might be. She sensed a trembling in her friend and a breathless anticipation. She reached in and kissed her on the lips.

Lori responded, kissing her back. They were both filled with a soaring feeling that expanded and spread out inside them. It felt like it would never end. It felt wonderful. It felt like all that mattered.

It ended very abruptly when the door to their dormitory flew open.

"Oh my!" Professor Sprout said. "I really would have expected better from the two of you."

-oOo-

They were allowed enough time to put on slippers and dressing gowns before being frog marched to the head's office. For such a kindly old lady, Professor Sprout could be unpleasantly strict when dealing with infractions to school rules.

They arrived at their destination to find Professor McGonagall awake, dressed and looking very angry indeed. They were marched into her office and made to stand in front of her withering glare.

"Professor McGonagall, I…"

"I do not recall giving either of you permission to speak," McGonagall interrupted Anneka. "I cannot begin to express how deeply disappointed I am in the two of you."

They both dropped their gaze to the carpet.

"Stand up straight, both of you." They complied. "I cannot fathom why, after an entire term of rewarding the trust I have put in you, you should break it now. What could you possibly have been thinking to make you believe this was acceptable?"

"I…" Anneka tried again.

"Silence, young lady! I'm not finished. You know the school rules as well as anyone. You know we don't object to your having relationships as long as they don't interfere with your studies and are conducted out in the open, but it is very clearly written into the rules that there will, under no circumstances, be any dalliance in the dormitories."

"Professor, may I speak?" Lori said quietly. The twin spotlights of McGonagall's gimlet stare rounded on the young girl, pinning her to the spot.

"Well?" snapped the professor.

"It wasn't planned, professor. We were talking…"

"At one o'clock in the morning!?"

"I’d just got back from — you know — that thing, and Anneka couldn’t sleep because she’d been worrying about me. We kind of talked for a while. We both had quite a lot on our minds this evening."

"That much is obvious."

"No, I didn't mean that. Anni had a meeting with Professor Longbottom this evening and I had… Well, you know."

"So, you were sharing what happened to each of you this evening. Why were you doing so in the same bed?"

"That was my fault, professor," Anneka roused her courage enough to back her friend up, earning herself Professor McGonagall's full attention. "Lori just wanted to go to sleep. It was me who climbed into her bed. I didn't mean anything by it, I just wanted to talk."

"That's not what I saw," Professor Sprout said sternly.

"It was though, at least at first. I'd been thinking about something one of my other friends said to me earlier, so when we were done talking, I asked if I could try something. Lori said okay and so I kissed her."

"Is this true?" McGonagall asked Lori.

"Yes, professor. I suppose I realised what she was about to do just before she did it and I, I don't know, I let her. I suppose we've both been curious about how deep our feelings go for a while now, and this evening just seemed to be the point where we had to find out."

"That's the first time you've kissed?"

"Yes, professor. Before now we were just friends. We didn't really think..."

"That much is obvious." McGonagall sighed. "I'm inclined to believe you; however it is still very much against the school rules and cannot be ignored. There will have to be consequences."

"Oh, please don't split us up!" Anneka cried out as her mind instantly went to the worst thing she could think of. "We've become such good friends, and this will never happen again, right Lori?"

Lori nodded; her own eyes wide at the thought of being separated from Anneka.

"Well, after tonight I can hardly trust you two alone with one another, can I?"

"I have a possible solution," Professor Sprout said. "It's something I've been considering for a while now."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Most of the dormitories have settled well this year, but there's one that hasn't. We have one student in Hufflepuff who's not getting on particularly well with her room mates."

"Hortensia Skunk?" Lori asked. It wasn't exactly a secret within the Hufflepuff common room.

"Oh no, not haughty Horty," Anneka said then clamped her hands over her mouth when she realised she'd said it out loud, and in the presence of a couple of teachers.

"We’d be happy to have Hortensia join us,” Lori said before Anneka could dig the hole any deeper.

“I’m glad to hear it. Of course, both Hortensia and her parents will have to be made aware of your circumstances and agree to the move before we can do anything.”

“Weren’t they both in Slytherin?” Professor Sprout asked.

“I believe so,” McGonagall replied.

“Certainly, I’ve had reason to wonder why the Sorting Hat didn’t put her in with them as well; she seems better suited to Slytherin. It would have made our sleeping arrangements easier to sort out at the beginning of term.”

“Yes…” McGonagall tapped her lips thoughtfully for a moment, then visibly pulled herself together. “Very well then, I believe we have a resolution to this matter. I will write to Mr and Mrs Skunk directly, but I doubt we'll be able to change much this side of the holidays.

"It seems losing your somewhat exclusive sleeping arrangements should be sufficient reprimand for your lapse in good judgement as well as a deterrent to anything like it happening again, although I will leave the decision of whether any additional punishment is necessary in the hands of your head of house.

"I would rather not make any special arrangements for you two in these last weeks of term, so do not give me a reason to do so. If you do, I can assure you, the consequences will be severe.

"Now, you need to get back to bed and to sleep because, mark my words, I will not tolerate any tardiness or inattention tomorrow on the basis of your not having enough sleep this night.

“That being said, Lori, I will take advantage of this meeting to steal a few extra minutes of your time.”

She waited for Anneka and Professor Sprout to leave then asked Lori to report back on her findings. The young girl recounted pretty much everything she’d said to Anneka earlier. It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes, but then McGonagall turned thoughtful.

“Greenish you say.” She stood up and hunted through her bookshelf, settling eventually on a large leather-bound book. Turning back to Lori, she said, “You don’t have your wand on you, do you?” Following Lori’s shaken head, she flourished her own. “Felis Sensorium,” she said then hunted through the book while the changes were settling on Lori’s face.

“Was this the stone you saw?”

She spun the book to reveal a detailed and painstakingly drawn and coloured image of a rough-cut stone. The greenish colour was almost identical to the one that Lori had seen, and the shape looked very familiar too.

Lori nodded her head again. “I think it’s the same.”

“Finite incantatem,” McGonagall said, and Lori sensed the world around her darkening, and the picture inexplicably changed to red. She looked at Professor McGonagall quizzically.

“Cats see differently, Lori. Their eyes are far more sensitive in the dark, but they can’t distinguish colours the same way we do. Now look again and tell me you’re sure the shape is the same.”

Lori looked and tried to compare it to her memory. “I’m about seventy percent sure, professor. I’m sorry I can’t do better than that, but I can show you where Raphael found it and the box it was in. He left that behind.”

McGonagall sighed. She needed to get Lori into her bed, but this was a matter that wouldn’t wait after all.

They encountered Filch’s ghost in the dungeons and he offered to lend McGonagall some of his shackles, otherwise they reached the storage area without any difficulty. Lori headed straight for the shelf where Maledicta had left the box and picked it up. It had an inscription on it.

“Blutstein,” Lori said in a low voice.

McGonagall took the box out of Lori’s hands and stared at it herself. “I was afraid of this,” she murmured. “All right, you did well tonight Lori, but we’d best get you to your bed.” Fortunately, it was a relatively short walk from the store room to the Slytherin common room and a only a slightly longer one from there to Hufflepuff. McGonagall left Lori at the door to her house and returned to the Slytherin common room.

“Pureblood,” she said, unable to keep the distaste from her voice. Slytherins, being a suspicious lot, changed their password regularly, but it always seemed to come back to this one. The portrait moved to one side, and she stepped into the common room. A few spells later she was certain that nothing with any significant amount of magic in it resided within her vicinity.

She transformed herself into her cat form and headed back to the storeroom. Lori’s familiar scent was everywhere, but there was a second one too. She followed it back to the Slytherin common room, then found a second, fresher trail which eventually led to the astronomy tower. McGonagall bounded up the steps and emerged onto the roof just in time to see a disembodied hand holding the bloodstone up high and a witch on a broom swoop in at speed to snatch it from the outstretched arm.

There was nothing to be done. The stone was lost. By the time Minerva could put her hands on a broom, the witch would be long gone. The only advantage she had was that the enemy didn’t know that she knew. Best to keep it that way for now. She turned and leapt silently down the stairs and back to her office before Maledicta knew she was there.

-oOo-

The rest of the term passed without further incident. Mindful of the warning, Anneka and Lori were careful to keep a distance between themselves in their dormitory. Even though they'd shared a bed before without anything happening, now they erred on the side of caution and each kept to her own side of the room, except when they were working together on one of their many assignments.

Which isn't to say they ignored the moment that had passed between them. They looked for, and found, numerous opportunities to be alone together around the castle grounds.

Mostly they talked about it. The situation was complicated, they both acknowledged, and not just considering the challenge of the conversations they would face with their parents if they decided they were in a relationship. They were honest about their feelings, and both valued the friendship too much to jeopardise it over something that neither of them could predict or control.

They did exchange one more kiss — down by the boathouse, away from prying eyes and unwanted interruptions.

"That was nice," Anneka said as they parted.

"Yeah, I suppose," Lori agreed.

“Didn’t you like it?” Anneka’s brow creased with concern.

“It’s not that. I don’t know, I suppose I expected something more.”

“Maybe I didn’t do it right.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you did. I guess, maybe… I don’t know. Maybe I’m not ready for this… Yet.”

Anneka dropped her gaze. Lori reached out for her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Maybe I’m just too caught up in what I’m going through right now. I mean I like you — you know, like really like you. It’s just…”

Anneka lifted her head and offered a fragile smile. “It’s okay, I mean we have loads of time, don’t we? This doesn’t have to be a now thing. It doesn’t change things between us, does it?”

Loris squeezed again. “Of course not. I mean friends first and forever, right?"

Anneka forced her smile a little wider. "Friends first and forever."

High up in the castle, Minerva's office gave her a clear view. She didn't like spying on pupils, but she’d been concerned. She let out a relieved sigh.

"Well," she murmured to herself, "there’s at least one problem can be put off for another day.”

Then she chided herself for talking to herself and turned back to the letter on her desk. The ministry was doing its usual thing of trying to make a problem go away by pretending it didn't exist. She didn't like to use the 'You reacted the same way when Dumbledore told you You-know-who was back' card — she would only be able to use it a limited number of times before it lost its efficacy — but this was important. She picked up her quill and searched for the right words.

-oOo-

The last day of term finally arrived. Anneka and Lori were both packed and ready to leave. Anneka's trunk had been taken down to the station, but Lori and Lysander had both received owls from their parents a couple of days previously informing them that they should each pack a trunk and keep it in their room. Anneka had insisted that since the owl had been addressed to Lori it meant that she should pack her things rather than Lorcan's. Lori hadn't been so sure, so he'd packed two trunks, one for each, and the two friends were sitting on them chatting away the last of their time together.

They'd both run out of words and were sitting quietly avoiding each other's eyes. They'd both said how much they were going to miss each other, and it seemed there wasn't much else to add.

Lori reached into her robes and pulled out a small package. "Happy Christmas," she said, passing it across. It wasn't that she'd forgotten, but this was an unspoken sign that they were about to part for a few weeks.

"Should I open it now?"

"Sure." It would give them an excuse to stay together for a few more minutes.

"Wow, it's beautiful." Anneka's eyes grew round at the sight of it.

"Unicorn hair," Lori said, taking the bracelet and fastening it around her friend's wrist. "Professor Flitwick helped me enchant it so it glows a different colour depending on the strongest mood near you. That deep red colour is for melancholy."

Anneka smiled and fought back a tear. "Thank you, it's perfect."

Lori took a while to run through all the other possible colours and their meanings, then Anneka reached behind her and brought out a small package of her own.

Lori took it, opened it and looked up confused.

"I have it on good authority that it tastes disgusting and that you have to drink it all down in one or it won't work, so be warned. This," she pulled a hair out of her head, coiled it around a finger and slipped it into a small glass vial which she then stoppered and handed over, "is the last ingredient that needs to be added just before you drink it.

“Of course you could take a hair from anyone else you might want to be and put that in instead. I just thought you might be interested in finding out what it's like to be me, and, you know, I wouldn’t mind finding out what it’s like having a twin for day. You’re so lucky having a brother to turn to when you really need someone…

“I'm told Hermione Granger brewed it, so it should last at least twelve hours."

"The evening you spent with Professor Longbottom squeezing bubotuber pus?"

"You really are clever enough to be in Ravenclaw you know."

"I wouldn't want to be now," Lori said. "Thank you for this, it's perfect — better than perfect."

They risked a hug, which the wards chose to ignore.

Anneka sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "I suppose I'd better be going," she said.

"I could walk you to the train," Lori offered.

"We've already run out of things to say. Thanks though." She headed for the door, pausing, and looking back when she reached it. "You will write, won't you?"

"Every day if I can find an owl."

"Happy Christmas Lori."

"Happy Christmas Anni."

And she was alone. She packed the small bottle and vial with her girl clothes. Lori looked around her. The beds were stripped, both trunks packed. She had on a warm woollen dress with thick tights, but the top of her Lorcan trunk had a full set of his old clothes folded and waiting just in case. Her Lori trunk was considerably more densely packed, but then you could hardly expect a girl to wear the same thing two days in a row. There wasn't anything to do so she headed out to the common room. All her fellow pupils were down at Hogsmeade Station, but Professor Sprout was there, sitting in an old rocking chair, a pair of knitting needles clacking away beside her.

"Hello dear," she smiled. "All packed and ready?"

"Yes thank you Professor Sprout." Lori took a seat near the fire. It wasn't that she was cold, but rather needed some of the cheer the dancing flame offered.

"I think while it's just the two of us we can dispense with titles, don't you?" Professor Sprout stopped her rocking. The knitting stopped as well.

"Er, if you like Pro… I mean Pomona." Lori felt awkward using the professor's first name, but the wrinkly smile that came back to her reassured her.

"You've surprised me this term Lori. When I first met you I thought this girl thing was just a fad. I gave it a week, maybe two at the most, but here we are twelve weeks on and I haven't seen you out of a skirt in all that time. Do you mind me asking what makes you so committed?"

"Er, it's kind of difficult to explain."

"Take your time. I'm in no hurry." She started rocking again, her knitting needles picking up from where they left off."

"Could you teach me to do that sometime?" Lori asked, waving at the knitting.

"Absolutely. It'll take a little longer than we have now though. Ask me again in the New Year."

"Okay. Er…"

"Relax Lori. I'm only curious. I'd just like to understand what's going on inside your mind, so anything you can tell me would help."

"Okay. I guess the place to begin is the beginning then. I've always felt different, for as long as I can remember."

"Different in what way?"

"I don't know, just different. Wrong, kind of, like I didn't fit."

"Didn't fit how?"

"Well, it's like my brother, Lysander, always managed to make friends so much more easily than me. Whenever we met other kids in our street it was like he knew exactly what to say to get them to like him. I mean we only hung out with boys for the most part, but Lye would be all talking about stuff they were interested in and doing these play fights and dares and stuff, and I just didn't know where to begin. They'd play all sorts of games and Lye would try to get me to join in, and I would, for his sake more than anything, but it was like I was pretending to be like they were. It was never fun. If anything, it was scary because I was always worried they'd find out what I was thinking and just push me away."

"So, you pushed them away?"

"Eventually. I mean not at first. They were kind of friendly and everything, I think because I was Lye's brother, but they kind of sensed something about me. They could feel I wasn't comfortable around them so they kind of backed off and I let them.

"Then there were the times Lysander and I would have a Birthday party. I think the first one I really remember was our sixth birthday. Mum and Dad invited over all the kids in the neighbourhood, both boys and girls. Between the cake and games, we'd kind of separate. Lysander joined the boys, and the girls made their own group. I remember sitting apart from them both and looking at them. I had this feeling inside me that I belonged with the girls' group, so I tried to join with them. They were polite enough, I mean it was my Birthday after all, but things just felt awkward while I was with them. They didn't talk so freely; they weren't giggling like they had been before I came along. It felt like I was intruding, so after a short while I made an excuse and went off to my bedroom.

"Mum found me there a while later. She could see I wasn't happy, but she could also see that I didn't understand why, so she just sat and held me while I cried then when she'd cleaned me up a bit I went back to the party. Everyone was playing together then. Dad had a bunch of games for us all, so it was easier to join in.

"After that, I began to notice things, like when I looked at boys together and girls together, I felt like I belonged more with the girls. I've never really understood what's so much fun about doing the sorts of things Lysander and his friends get up to, but I've never really found a way to get in with a group of girls either. They've either treated me like an outsider and made me feel uncomfortable until I left, or they've adopted me as a sort of mascot — more pet than friend it felt like."

"So how does dressing as a girl help?"

Lori shrugged. "I never tried it till I came here, then that first night with the Room of Requirement, it felt like a way to get closer to the way I felt inside."

"Try and explain that a bit more, dear."

"I guess ever since our sixth birthday, I've felt kind of stuck. Ì feel like everyone expects me to be with the boys and do boy things because, well…"

"You're a boy."

"Yeah, but I don't feel I belong there because my mind doesn't work that way. I don't enjoy the games; I feel out of place just being with them. It's like inside I'm not a boy at all. I feel like I belong with the girls. I want to join in with their conversations, I want to do things with them, I feel like I think and behave the same as them, but nobody would be happy if I tried to join in with them because…"

"You're a boy."

"Pretty much. When girls see me, they see a boy and they respond to me like I'm a boy. I've wondered if I could be more like them maybe they would be more prepared to accept me as one of them, and there have been times when I've thought about putting on some of my mum's clothes because that feels like it might be a way of doing that, but in the end they'd just see a boy in a dress and then everyone would treat me like I was weird."

"So, what happened with the Room of Requirement?"

"First there was the Mirror of Erised which showed me as a girl. Not just dressed like this, but pretty and smaller and definitely a girl. Then it became the Girls' Changing Room and I wondered if it would actually change me into what I wanted, but instead it gave me this rack of clothes."

"You didn't have to change into any of them."

"No, but there was this gorgeous dress which I couldn't resist. It had buttons down the back which the magic helped to do up, and then I couldn't undo them."

"I remember it; I had to get you out of it."

"When I had it on, I stood in front of a mirror and wished that I was all the way a girl, and this woman appeared who told me I could never be one, so I ran away, and the room disappeared taking my only boy's clothes with it."

"Would you have changed back if you'd had the chance?"

"I did have the chance. Professor McGonagall gave me the choice, but not until after I met Anneka who accepted me totally as a girl and went to breakfast wearing a girl's uniform. If I'd had the choice to go back before all that I probably would have, but since everyone knew, it was like the damage had been done. Also some of the good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Anneka sees me more as a girl than a boy, or at least she treats me as one. Most of the girls in Hufflepuff do as well. I look a lot like a girl because I'm still young enough, so it feels like I can be the way I feel inside, and most people accept me as just that.

"Then there's my mum and dad and Lye. They've all been great about this. I never wanted to hurt any of them, but it's like they're actually okay with me doing this, or at least okay enough because they can see that this is helping me to escape from feeling so down."

"I can't help noticing that you haven't completely shaken your feelings of depression."

"No. I keep thinking about what the lady in the mirror said, that boys are boys and girls are girls, and there's no way things can be any different. I’m afraid that most people think the same way which makes me kind of an anomaly. I'm someone with a boy's body who somehow ended up with a girl's mind, and most people can't get their head around what that means.

"As far as they’re concerned, most boys behave like boys and most girls behave like girls, and anything different from that is wrong. So that leaves me either pretending to be normal or being who I am and accepting that most people think I’m weird."

"But surely that was the way things were before you started exploring this avenue."

"Agreed, and the way my family and friends have been treating me here has made all the difference. I feel like I can behave the way I have always felt inside, but I can’t stop worrying that it’s only temporary. One day soon my body's going to change, and I won't be able to pass myself off as a girl any more. This term I've been given a taste of what life could be like at its best, but it won't last."

"Would you change into a girl if you could?"

"Of course I would. I mean Anneka's talked to me a little about the downside, but it doesn’t feel like a downside to me, it's just what I should be."

"That's quite a declaration. How do you know what you should be?"

"The same way that you do, I feel it inside me. You've always felt right being a girl haven't you."

"Yes, but…"

"How would you feel if everyone forced you to be a boy? How would you feel if your parents, your friends, everyone you met expected you to behave like a boy? Would that be right?"

"No, but…"

"So, the only difference between you and me is that your body and mind match, which means that when you behave in a way that comes natural, everyone is okay with it because it matches what everyone expects."

"What if it were possible to change the way you were inside so that you were happier being a boy?"

"Then I wouldn't be me anymore. Tell me professor, do you think that who we are is decided more by our bodies than by our minds?"

"That's an interesting question but let me ask you a different one. You're quite pretty the way you are…"

"For now."

"Yes, for now, but imagine you could be like me when I was younger. A girl, yes, but never particularly attractive. All my life I've been the sort of round, dumpy girl who always gets overlooked by the boys at the banquets, who always gets called names — dough face, fatty, the not-so-flying frizz — because I've always had this impossible hair." She flicked at her frizzy, grey curls. "Would you rather be as you are now and a boy or like I was as a girl?"

Lori fidgeted and thought about it. "I think I'd still rather be like you, because at least then my mind would match my body. I can't say for certain though because I don't know what it was like growing up as you. The same way you don't know what it’s been like growing up as me. All I do know is that I would do anything not to be stuck as I was, as I probably will be again soon."

Professor Sprout sat and rocked, the clacking of her knitting syncopating with the crackling of the fire. Lori wondered if she'd gone too far. She knew she had a tendency to get overly passionate when talking about her problem, but that was only because it was so frustrating. She looked across at the elderly head of her house.

"So, what have you done about it?" The kindly face held only sympathy.

"I'm only a first year. What can I do about it?"

"Well, there's the sound of self-pity making excuses for its failure if ever I heard it," Professor Sprout looked across at her young charge with the friendliest eyes Lori had ever seen. "Do you know what Harry Potter and his friends managed to do in their first year?"

Lori did know. Between them they had found out that the Philosopher's Stone was being kept safe at the school and that what remained of the darkest wizard of the age was seeking to obtain it so he could return from near death. They had also made it past seven obstacles put in place to protect it against fully trained wizards by Hogwarts seven most senior witches and wizards. When Harry had ultimately confronted the Dark Lord and his lackey — Professor Quirrel, also the defence against the dark arts teacher that year — he had stood up to them and defeated them.

"I'm not Harry Potter."

"No, you're Lori Scamander. You have Harry's courage, Hermione's intelligence — if not her academic dedication — and in Anneka you have Ron's loyalty. There's no reason why you can't achieve just as much in your first year, if only you would believe in yourself and commit to the task with the same resolve. Gryffindor doesn't have a monopoly on heroes you know.

"Come on now, think! There must be something you've found out."

"Well, Anneka did find a reference in our potions book."

"Show me."

Lori went to fetch her copy of the book, opened it to the correct page and showed it to the elderly professor. She again stopped rocking and knitting and read through the passage.

"That's not going to turn you into a girl you know?"

"No, but it could keep me looking like one. It's not a perfect solution, but it's better than what I'm currently facing. I don't suppose you have any idea what the missing ingredients might be?"

"They could be a lot of things," Professor Sprout mused. "Between Professor Longbottom and myself we could give you a list of possible ideas from herbology lore, and narrow it down a bit by eliminating anything they wouldn't have had in the Kingdom of Fareway back in this time. The list would be pretty long, and it wouldn't be complete…"

"Why not?"

"Potions aren't just herbs, Lori. Herbs may be some of the most efficacious ingredients, but you should already know by now, potion ingredients often include fauna and minerals as well as flora. There are also some ingredients that are oddly specific.

"Working out the original recipe by trial and error would be long and painstaking, and possibly quite dangerous. You'd need Professor Mugglewump's help and permission to conduct any experiments before you have your NEWTs, so it might be worth showing him a bit of friendship."

"I think it may be a little late for that. He doesn't like either Anni or me. He thinks we're the reason Professor McGonagall caught him telling all the first years except Slytherin to scrub the EazyKleen lining off their cauldrons."

"And why would he think that?"

"I may have mentioned it in one of my interviews with Professor M in the first week."

"Well, I suppose you'll have to come up with another way of narrowing the field. I'll have a chat with Neville over the Christmas break and see if we can get you started. Anything else?"

"Well, Anneka gave me some polyjuice potion for Christmas."

"A nice taster perhaps, but you'd have to be pretty desperate to use it as a permanent solution."

"Why do you say that?"

"You'll find out the first time you take it. Plus, you'll only ever be able to be someone else, never yourself. One of He-who-we-don't-like-to-talk-about's followers impersonated an Auror once for several months. Kept swigging polyjuice from a hip flask to keep the disguise going. Bleuch! That takes commitment.

"You're not planning on using it during the holidays, are you? Only you know about the rule forbidding under-aged wizards and witches from using magic outside of school? That includes potions as well."

"What if my mum or dad gave it to me?"

"Hmm, grey area. I'm not sure I'd risk it if I were you. Plenty of time to make use of it next term, that way you could share the experience with your friend. I’m sure she’d love having the opportunity to show you what it's like really being a girl."

"I guess you're right."

"Good girl."

A rhythmic tapping came from the entrance

"And unless I'm very much mistaken, that'll be your dad." Professor Sprout climbed out of her chair to greet Lori's father as he made his way down the passage, but Lori reached him first, throwing her arms around his waist.

"There's my favourite daughter. All packed and ready?"

"In my room, Daddy."

"Hello Pomona. How are you?"

"I'm well, Rolf. As are you by the looks of it. Such a delight to see you again."

"For me too, but I think I've kept this one waiting long enough." He indicated Lori with his head. "I hope you weren't too bored." He directed the last comment to his progeny.

"Not at all Daddy, but I wouldn't mind if we got going."

"There we have it Pomona. I am a slave to my daughter's whims. Perhaps we'll be able to catch up a little next time."

"I shall look forward to that. Now the sooner you're gone, the sooner I can get on with some serious and much needed relaxation."

"We're going," Rolf laughed. "Come on Lori, show us your luggage."

Lori led her father through to her room where he balked at the sight of the two trunks.

"I'm sure our owl said one trunk only, Lori. We can't take all this."

"I know. I wasn't sure if you were expecting me or Lorcan, so I packed one trunk for each."

"Well, that choice has to be yours sweetheart, but you need to decide now."

"Well, I'd prefer Lori of course." She put a hand on her trunk full of girl things. "But what will we tell the neighbours about me."

"A very good question, and one we would only need to concern ourselves with if we were going home."

"What?!"

"Your mum and I discussed it. The Quibbler will be filled with its usual Santa sighting stories, which your granddad can manage without his daughter’s help, and I'm owed more holiday than I can easily take this year. We were planning to have the usual Christmas to New Year off anyway, so it didn't take too much juggling to take the whole three weeks off. I had a few words with some of your great grandfather's old friends and we have ourselves the loan of a cabin just outside a small town in Transylvania. There are a few story leads nearby for your mum to follow up for the Quibbler, there's a magical creature reserve nearby we can visit and we'll even be close enough to the dragon sanctuary that we can organise a day trip or two."

"Isn't Transylvania…"

"Where the Muggle story about vampires comes from? Yes, it is, but they're pretty much extinct now. We'll be really lucky if we see one this trip. These days it's pretty much like every other part of Romania, which is to say beautiful, old fashioned and filled with just enough unusual to make it worth visiting.

"Sure it's this one?" Lori nodded. "Reducio." Lori's dad waved his wand then picked up the trunk, now the size of a shoe box, and left followed by a very excited young girl.

Girls’ Changing Room – 6 – Christmas by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021

I rewrote the kiss by the boathouse scene. You can re-read it in context by going to the last chapter, or just read this excerpt: They did exchange one more kiss — down by the boathouse, away from prying eyes and unwanted interruptions. "That was nice," Anneka said as they parted. "Yeah, I suppose," Lori agreed. “Didn’t you like it?” Anneka’s brow creased with concern. “It’s not that. I don’t know, I suppose I expected something more.” “Maybe I didn’t do it right.” “No, I’m pretty sure you did. I guess, maybe… I don’t know. Maybe I’m not ready for this… Yet.” Anneka dropped her gaze. Lori reached out for her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe I’m just too caught up in what I’m going through right now. I mean I like you — you know, like really like you. It’s just…” Anneka lifted her head and offered a fragile smile. “It’s okay, I mean we have loads of time, don’t we? This doesn’t have to be a now thing. It doesn’t change things between us, does it?” Loris squeezed again. “Of course not. I mean friends first and forever, right?" Anneka forced her smile a little wider. "Friends first and forever." High up in the castle, Minerva's office gave her a clear view. She didn't like spying on pupils, but she’d been concerned. She let out a relieved sigh. "Well," she murmured to herself, "there’s at least one problem can be put off for another day.”

-oOo-
Dear Anneka,

I know I promised an owl every day, but I don't think I'll be able to write that often. Mum and Dad sprung it on us when they came to pick us up; we're spending Christmas in Romania!

Dad made some sort of arrangement with one of his granddad's old friends and we have this wooden chalet sort of thing on the side of a hill overlooking the most amazing panorama. This place is all hills and forests and quaint little towns and villages that don't look like they've changed in hundreds of years.

Our nearest settlement is a small village, about a quarter of a mile downhill from us. The walk back is a bit of a slog but I wouldn't trade it for the view. The place is so beautiful, and the best bit is no-one knows us, so I'm just one of the girls here.

The locals are very welcoming. They're fascinated by my clothes, but I could say the same of theirs. They all wear the same sort of traditional costume which for the girls is a white blouse with very loose sleeves, a tight fitting bodice and a full skirt, both usually black, and a white apron tied from the waist down. I'm making it sound really boring, but it's not because the skirts and bodices are heavily embroidered and most of the aprons have a lace trim so no two outfits are the same any group is just a riot of colour and individuality.

Communication is a problem because none of the locals speak English and none of us speak Romanian. We're getting by with a lot of miming and pointing, and I'm beginning to pick up a few words and phrases. The girls are very patient with me and my awful accent, but laughs and smiles are the same in any language.

Lye's made friends too and spends a lot of time with them playing some sort of complicated game involving bats and balls. Again, sport seems to be a universal language. Once you've mimed your way through the rules, the rest is all about working together.

We're taking a few days to settle in before we explore further afield. I think Mum would be happy to spend all her time here as she's off wandering through the forest in her bare feet day and night. We're not far from a magical creature reserve and are planning to walk up to it to explore a bit. It has protective charms over it so the locals don't seem to have any idea it exists.

Gotta finish this. Dad wants to send our owl off while the sun's still high.

Love,

Lori

-oOo-

Hi Anni,

I know it's been a few days, but Dad's owl only made it back yesterday. I asked him if there was a way for you to send letters to us and he didn't seem too keen. He deliberately chose this spot so that we could have a holiday without being interrupted. He's sending Pheidippides — that's our great grey owl — off with correspondence once a week. It takes him two days to get back to England where he drops letters off at Dad's office, takes a day to rest then picks up only the mail his assistant thinks is too important to wait and brings it back. When Dippy arrived yesterday he looked pretty weighed down, so Dad's giving him a couple of days rest before sending him off again. If he ends up having to bring that much stuff with him every time it would seem a little unfair to add even one letter.

I asked Dad if we could make arrangements for you to send through Muggle-mail, but he's worried some of his colleagues will scan this letter to see if it has any clues to where we are, so he doesn't want me to include the town name. We came via portkey — so much more agreeable than apparating with Mum or Dad — so there's no way to trace our whereabouts otherwise. He just doesn't want us to be bothered with his workmates apparating in to ask stupid questions at every hour of the day. He did suggest I could send you a letter via Muggle-mail, but I don't have your address.

Anyway, I'm getting on better with the girls in the village now. I've managed to pick up enough of their language to hold a simple conversation. The downside is I now get to do all the shopping for our family since I'm the only one who knows how to ask for a loaf of bread. The upside is I have an excuse to go down to the village every morning and meet with my friends. It also means I've been able to look around at everything the locals have for sale and I've managed to buy Christmas presents for everyone.

I've managed to get an oină bat and ball for Lye - that's the game he's been playing since we got here. There’s a little u shape over the a meaning it’s pronounced oynia. For Dad I've found this amazing wooden clock — you'd think it was magic, but it's all Muggle ingenuity. As for Mum, one of my new friends' mother is a dressmaker and she has this stunning collection of traditional dresses waiting to be bought. I have the perfect one for Mum picked out, which my friend's mum has said she'll tailor to fit after Christmas. She's had me try on a few dresses too, but I'm not sure I'll be able to afford any of them after buying stuff for the family.

We're off to the dragon sanctuary tomorrow. Dad's okay with me telling you as we'll be back from there while Dippy still has this in his beak.

Love you and miss you lots,

Lori

PS Happy Christmas

-oOo-

Dearest Anni,

What a wonderful Christmas! The only thing missing from it was you.

It snowed this week, on the day before Christmas Eve, and we had about a foot of snow everywhere. This is the closest I've come in nearly four months to missing trousers. Woollen tights help, but they do itch.

On Christmas Eve my friends came up to find me first thing then took me to a small lake nearby which had frozen over and had been deemed by the village elders to be safe for skating. I've never worn ice skates before, but one of my friends lent me her spare pair. They were a little tight, but not so much that I didn't enjoy myself. I fell down so many times, but that just made it more fun. My friends took turns to give me lessons, and once I got the hang of it, I didn't want to stop.

Then Christmas was one of those amazing days. You know the feeling you get when you can see how much a present is appreciated? I had that from all of my family. I mean there's always been something of a cloud over Christmas in our household, courtesy of yours truly and my gloomy moods, but not this year. Even Mum, who tends to disappear off into her own world when things get strained, was animated and excited and altogether delighted with her dress.

Lye bought me a gorgeous necklace and earrings set, which meant Mum had to pierce my ears. I saw some of the girls having it done in the village and it looks so much more painful without magic. Lye said they were enchanted so if I squeeze any one of them I’ll know where the other two are. In a quiet moment he whispered there was more but he didn’t want to tell me when Mum and Dad could hear.

Mum and Dad, as usual, bought us a ton of stuff, but my favourite thing was a doll, which Dad said was so I could make up for lost time. I rewrapped your present so I had something from you I could open. Professor Sprout said I shouldn't use it away from school as it would count as underage use of magic, so I'm keeping it for a day in the future. Sprout also suggested we could do a twins thing one day next term, and I have to admit it sounds fun. I miss hearing from you, but I know you can’t get in touch. I hope you're looking forward to it as much as I am.

We had a light lunch which was unusual for Christmas, but the villagers invited us to celebrate with them in the evening. In the afternoon a group of our neighbours appeared on our doorstep with packages for us all. We felt awful because we had nothing for them, but they insisted that we were the guests so it was for them to give the gifts. Dad and Lye were given traditional men's clothes, and Mum — because they knew I'd already given her a dress — received a beautiful silver necklace that went perfectly with her eyes. My gift was, as if you didn't guess, the one dress in my friend's mother's shop that I had fallen in love with.

We thanked them profusely and promised we'd see them at the feast in the evening. My friend stayed back long enough to tell Mum and me to come to her house early so we could have our clothes properly fitted. Lye and Dad didn't have the same issue because the men's costume was designed to be pretty loose.

Mum and Dad spent the afternoon charming some of our used wrapping paper into fireworks. They figured there wasn't that much difference between what we did with magic and what Muggles did with their cleverness, and this was at least something we could give back for their kindness. Lysander and I played wizard chess, which he's always won before because I was too distracted. This time I gave him a good game and came close to forcing a draw.

I don't want to bore you with all the details. The fitting was a new experience and a little nerve racking since I wasn't sure how far we were going to have to strip down. Turns out I didn't have anything to worry about. We only needed the skirt and bodice restitched which left us enough foundation garments to keep us warm and me concealed.

Dad and Lye caught up with us and we joined in with the celebration. There was food and dancing and so much laughter. When the music started to quieten down, Dad brought out the fireworks he and Mum had put together and set off the display. Now I'm not one to brag about my dad, but he's pretty handy when it comes to fireworks charms. He toned it down a bit for the Muggles, but it was quite the show even so.

Hey I haven't even told you about the dragon sanctuary! Wow, was that the most amazing place! I don't know if you've ever been to the Yorkshire Dales, but imagine somewhere like that only covered with dragons of every sort. The whole area is protected by a Muggle-repelling charm and the biggest invisibility charm I've ever heard of. It covers miles and miles of space in all directions and goes up for thousands of feet, and there are dragon nests everywhere. Some in the open, some in caves. I don't know, I could write about it forever and I couldn't come close to describing it. I really wish you could have been there.

I wish you could be here right now. It feels wrong to be having such an amazing time without you. I hope you're having a great holiday too. Next week is New Years which will be the last chance I'll have to write before we're back at school.

Anyway, Dad's just said it's bedtime for the third time, and it is one o'clock, so I should finish this so Pheidippides can take it with him tomorrow.

Love you lots,

Lori

-oOo-

Hey Anneka,

You are never going to believe what I found out this week! The doorway to the Kingdom of Fareway is quite close to the dragon sanctuary we went to last week. Dad and Lye couldn't get enough of the dragons so we already made arrangements to go back, but now we've found this out, Mum's promised we can go to Fareway instead. It'll mean a lot of apparating because there are a ton of places we need to check out, but she was intrigued by what you found out in the potions book, and she's sure we'll be able to find someone who can tell us a bit more. I may have time to write once more after our visit because we're coming back to England a couple of days before school starts, so I should be able find an owl that can get to you in time.

What can I say about New Years? There was another party in the village and yes we all went in our costumes. The village elders asked Dad if he would do another fireworks display and with a few days to plan with all of us chipping in, we came up with a doozy.

The music and dancing were much like the Christmas do, except this time it was more about girls dancing with boys rather than anyone dancing with anyone. All through the evening we kept changing partners and the dances got faster and faster with the changes happening more often, then the moment the priest rang the church bell to signify midnight, everyone stopped and grabbed the person nearest them.

This was just for singles I should say. They take marriage seriously here, so it was pretty much just us young people. Lysander and I had no idea what was going on, but the village youth seemed to have this all planned out. Lye ended up with about the prettiest girl in the village, and I was nabbed by some tall, dark and mysterious boy a couple of years older than me.

We all stood by and watched Dad's amazing fireworks display, and when it reached its climax, every boy present kissed the girl he was with — even Lye, who's a pretty quick study.

My first time being kissed by a boy. It was exciting and a little frightening. There's still that voice at the back of my head saying, 'What if he finds out?' but there really wasn't much chance of that. I don't know why, but it took my breath away having someone take control like that. He was a bit clumsy and forceful, so it was nothing like our kiss, and there were definitely no fireworks — not after Dad's had all gone off.

On the way back to the cabin Dad wanted to know how I felt. There wasn't much I could tell him, but I tried to be truthful, like I'm trying to be here. Like I say it was exciting. It's also not something I would want to look for, not while I'm still the way I am, because I'm still enough of a boy to know how it would feel if I found out the girl I'd been kissing wasn't one. I guess there's the potential for chemistry, but only once I'm everything a guy could want. It doesn't rule out the possibility of chemistry between us when we get to that stage either, so this was just getting caught up in the moment. I hope it doesn't bother you.

Anyway, Dippy leaves tomorrow so I need to add this to his burden, and we're off to Fareway tomorrow too. We're coming back the day after, so I'll write as soon as I'm home. It's weird. This has been such a fantastic adventure a part of me doesn't want it to end, but then I'm going to see you again in a couple of days so another part of me can't wait for it to end.

All my love,

Lori

-oOo-

Hi Anneka,

So we're all packed and ready to go. All my friends from the village came round to say goodbye this evening after we came back from our day out. Even tall, dark and mysterious made a showing and asked for my address. I told him I was flattered but that I had someone waiting for me at home. Probably the thing I like least about being a girl so far, disappointing interested boys. Anyway, Dad's recharmed the portkey for the next people who're to come here and he's unpacked the one that'll be taking us home. I don't know how the locals cope with us just appearing and disappearing as we have. Certainly none of my friends asked me about it. Maybe they're just a bit more used to magic happening about them than most Muggles. I certainly don't want this to be my last visit here. Maybe next time I can bring you.

Anyway, this was going to be a quick note to tell you how Mum and I got on in Fareway. It was good to be back in a part of the wizarding world and not have to be careful about what we did and said, and we spent the whole day apparating from one place to the next. Mum used a charm that meant we could understand and be understood by whoever we were talking to. The place was filled with fairytale castles and quaint little villages much like Romania, but there was all sorts of magic going on all over the place. We asked about King and Queen Laramy and Randolph the Rash and were sent to every place that had some clues to the story. There were portraits of the king and queen in the royal palace including ones from from the year they swapped places and even one of Princess Arabella. I tell you, if Randolph looked even half as good as his portrait…

The most promising place was a museum dedicated to Randolph. We had a chance to talk to the guide and she showed us the best copies they have of Randolph's journal. She repeated the story of how Randolph may well have made copies of the forgotten ingredients and showed us lists of what scholars have speculated them to be over the years. It's a pretty long list. Mum made a copy of it for me, but it could take most of a lifetime to work through it.

In a way the best clue was the copies of the journal. They were all about the same size, perhaps six inches by eight, and according to every version of the story that talks of it, the ingredients for both variations of the potion were written on a single page of the journal. That means there can't be more than three or four missing ingredients for each one.

Anyway. Early night tonight. We're coming home first thing tomorrow morning so I should be able to send this off before breakfast. I do hope you are well and have had a wonderful holiday. I am so looking forward to catching up with your news.

Love,

Lori

-oOo-

Dearest Lori,

Thank you for all your owls. You can't begin to imagine how frustrating it has been for me not being able to write back. One letter a week has been meagre pickings indeed, but so much sweeter for it. I've loved reading your adventures and am only very slightly jealous. What amazing luck to find yourself so close to Fareway Kingdom and to have been able to visit it.

My own holiday has been dull by comparison but not unenjoyable. My bracelet tells me that I'm content if a little sad for missing you, and with little enough of interest to do around the house, I managed to persuade Mum to set me up with portal access to a local witching library. It doesn't count as under-age magic because the portal is formed by someone else in response to an artefact they send you. You touch it to open the portal then ask for the book or books on the subject you're interested in and they're passed to you through the opening. When your loan period's up, they just open the portal and collect the book, so no possibility of fines for late returns as with Muggle libraries. Apart from doing a lot of reading, I've also spent a fair bit of time cross referencing all the things I’ve learned.

I've found out quite a bit about Randolph the Rash. Apparently he only spent one more year in service to King and Queen Laramy, then he disappeared from the kingdom all together. There’s not much information about his disappearance which is a little odd, because I’d have thought there’d been be more effort made to find him, but as far as the Kingdom of Fareway was concerned he just vanished.

The dates of his departure are given though, so I hunted around for anyone like him appearing somewhere else. It was about as boring as listening to Professor Binns for a whole afternoon, and there was no evidence of his turning up in any other magical kingdom I could find. That's when I decided to check the Muggle world.

I went to our local library and made friends with the head librarian. Nobody borrows books much around Christmas so he didn't have much to do, and he's an amateur historian with all these cool Internet links to places like the National History Museum and similar institutes around the world.

I told him I was doing research for a project at school — which I am kind of — and he offered to help. Unfortunately we found dozens of likely matches cropping up around Europe, and it wasn't until you mentioned finding the portal to Fareway in Romania that we had a bit of luck.

When I mentioned Romania to my librarian friend he showed me information about a newcomer to the court of Vlad III of Wallachia — which is in Romania — in 1448, pretty much when Randolph disappeared. Vlad III is also known as Vlad the Impaler or Vlad Dracula. He's a bit of a Romanian national hero, but he's also the basis of a Muggle horror story about a vampire.

I don't know, it sounded like something Randolph the Rash might be involved in. I asked my friend to try and trace the descendants of the jester. He said he didn't hold out much hope but he'd try and do a search through the family trees database. He said it might take a few weeks so not to hold my breath.

So anyway, that was my Christmas break, apart from Christmas and New Years which I spent with Mum and Dad and a bunch of aunts, uncles and grandparents. It was fun, but I've missed you. I'm really looking forward to seeing you in a few days, then we can catch up properly.

See you soon.

Love,

Anni

Waiting those last couple of days before heading back to Hogwarts was almost unbearable. There was a lot she didn't understand about Anneka's letter. What was an Internet link? What was a database? She knew what a family tree was, but the Muggle world was a mystery. She wondered what it must be like to have a foot in both camps like her friend.

She was so immersed in her anticipation of the new term and catching up on homework she hadn't been able to do while in Romania that she didn't notice her neighbours' mixture of expressions. Most were confused and relatively easily dealt with by her mum.

"Yeah, that's Lori. She used to be our son, but now she's our daughter."

A lot of them went away more confused than when they'd arrived, but apparently it was a bit of a thing in the Muggle world, so most understood it even if many weren't too keen to accept it.

On the last day before going back to school, she went out for a walk without even thinking how those around her might react. She bumped into a group of girls she vaguely recognised. They waved her over.

"You go by Lori now, I understand?" One of them asked.

Lori nodded.

"That's cool," another said. "I think you're really brave. Of course my dad thinks you're nuts and your parents are worse for allowing it, but he's just a bigot."

"Yeah," a third girl chipped in. "You're okay with us, as long as this isn't some creepy ploy to get into our knickers."

"So what, are you on blockers or something? Do you have to see a shrink?"

Lori had no idea what they were talking about. She'd stayed away from the Muggle part of their mixed community before, but now the Muggles found her interesting enough to come looking for her. She shrugged. "It's kind of a new thing for me. My school is okay with it for the most part, and the teachers keeping an eye on me." She avoided the words she didn't understand. From watching her dad she'd noticed whenever he tried to wing it he tended to go hopelessly wrong. She tucked the terms away to ask Anneka later.

"Watch out for the lads around here," a fourth girl said.

Lori recognised her as Kirsty, the only person present whose name she recalled. "Why's that?" she asked.

"They're idiots who seem to think they know better. If they catch up with you they may decide to let you know what they think about transpeople."

That was the term the lady in the mirror had used. Lori took a stab in the dark. "Not that happy with them?"

"Pretty much."

"Oy!"

The shout had come from the direction Lori had been heading. She looked up at a group of about eight lads, most of whom were older than her. They started heading towards her and then girls.

"Better head back home Lori," Kirsty said. "We'll cover for you as best we can, but don't hang about."

Lori took their advice and headed back the way she had come as fast as she could. She made it without incident, but a while later Lye turned up with a bloody nose. It didn't take much more than the wave of their mother's wand to put right — all but a small amount of swelling — but Lori could see how it upset her brother.

"That was because of me, wasn't it?"

"Don't sweat it. Just because they're too thick to understand doesn't mean they have the right to tell you how to live your life. In fact it probably means they definitely shouldn't have that right."

"I don't want you getting hurt on my account."

"Tough because I'm going to defend you no matter what, and they're almost certainly going to object in the same way. Lori, let us stand up for you the way we want to."

Fortunately there was no further need. They stayed in that evening, then the following day they kept pestering their mother until she took them and their luggage straight to King's Cross in good time to catch the Hogwarts’ Express.

They found an empty compartment and settled into it. Anneka found them and joined them five minutes before the train was due to depart. The two girls started chatting back and forth at an increasing rate with the topics changing seemingly at random until Lysander cleared his throat.

“I think I just had a taste of what other people feel when the two of us start doing our twin thing. Is it going to be like this all the way to Hogwarts?”

Lori shrugged apologetically. “Pretty much I should think.”

“Well if it’s all the same with you, I’m going to see if I can find some of my mates. Maybe I can interest enough of them in oină that we can start a Muggle sports club.”

“What happened to his nose?” Anneka asked as soon as he’d gone.

“Oh, some of the Muggles around our way don’t much like me wearing a dress. Since they couldn’t catch me to let me know how much they disapprove, they found Lye and explained it to him.”

“That’s awful!”

“I know, I feel so bad. But Lye says he’s okay with it. It’s one of the reasons I never did anything about it before. Some choices have consequences for other people.”

“I’d say most choices do. You’re not going to stop being Lori, are you?”

“Do I look like I’m going to stop being Lori? No, I’ve opened this bag of pixies once and for all now. We just have to see what kind of mess comes of it.”

“As well as the good. You can’t deny that some good’s come out of it. So what do you think of what my friend at the library found out?”

“I don’t know. Do you think we’ll be able to trace Randolph into the Muggle world and maybe find his journal there?”

“You never know. At least it’s a lead.”

The conversation carried on in a similar vein for the entire journey. They started to run out of things to say to each other as dusk settled over the landscape and they approached their destination. Lori hadn’t seen Hogwarts from the train before. Anneka recognised a few landmarks when they were getting close and pulled her friend over to the window just as the track curved around the side of a small mountain (or perhaps a tall hill) and the castle came into view, illuminated by a nearly full moon.

“Wow!” breathed Lori.

“I know.”

“What’s that misty area over there?”

“That’s the Forbidden Forest. It wasn’t all misty when we came in September. I guess that’s a winter thing.”

“I suppose. Gosh, the castle is so beautiful. And that must be Hogsmead.” She pointed at a village about a mile below the castle. The mist had just about reached its outskirts and covered the train track for the last quarter mile or so.

The train let out a long blast on its whistle and started to slow.

“We should change into our robes,” Anneka said. “We’ll be there in about five minutes.”

They pulled down the blinds and changed quickly. They’d about finished when a polite knock on the compartment door announced the return of Lysander looking to do the same. They stepped out into the corridor and went to the carriage door. Anneka pulled the window down just as they approached the patch of mist on the final stretch.

The wintry air brought an invigorating shock into the train. Lori breathed in the coldness, enjoying its fresh crispness. She smiled at Anneka, but stopped the instant she caught sight of her friend’s expression.

Anneka was struggling to breath, a look of panic spreading across her features.

Lori took hold of her face and the two of them sank to their knees. Behind her she could hear other students screaming and shouting, but all she could concern herself with was Anneka. She turned her friend's head so they were looking straight into each other’s eyes.

“I’m here Anneka. Hold on, everything’s going to be all right.”

Anneka tried to nod, but was too distracted by trying to draw air into her lungs. Even as she watched, Lori saw her friend’s eye’s roll upwards and she went limp.

Lori lowered her to the floor and looked desperately for signs of life. The light in the carriage brightened as they entered Hogsmead station, the train straining to a halt with a distant hiss of steam.

Anneka’s unconscious form convulsed and spewed up a milky white substance. Lori rolled her onto her side as best she could. More of the milky fluid dribbled out, and as suddenly as she had collapsed, Anneka convulsed and began coughing.

Behind her Lori could hear more coughing and spluttering as well as other voices shouting. Through the chaos she could more or less make out that some of the affected students hadn’t regained consciousness, and some may not even have resumed breathing.

“Off the train. If you’re able to walk, step off the train now.” The voice was loud and commanding and belonged to Professor McGonnagall. “Calmly now, and quickly as you can. If you are able to walk, please step off the train. First years, look for Professor Mugglewump. The rest of you line up outside the Hog’s Head and we’ll find you as soon as we may.”

Lori helped Anneka to her feet and together they made it onto the station. Mugglewump was standing by the station entrance surrounded by first years. He favoured them with a a poisonous stare as they approached.

“Sir, where’s Hagrid?” Lori asked.

“Do I look like I have time for your stupid questions?” he retorted, but other first years added their voices to Lori’s question. “He’s trying to calm down the creatures in the forbidden forest, now stop pushing, will you?”

It wasn’t the first years who were pushing though. They’d formed enough of a crowd at the entrance that older students were struggling to squeeze past. The disturbance was getting worse as more students crowded onto the platform. Eventually Mugglewump threw up his arms in surrender. “all right first years,” he shouted in exasperation, “follow me.”

“Sir, I don’t think all of us are off the train yet,” Lori called out, regretting it as soon as the professor’s baleful eye turned on her.

“Well, why don’t you and your friend wait for any stragglers. I’ll come back for you when I have a chance.”

The mist seemed to be closing in on the station from behind the train, but she spotted Lysander stepping off and waved to him. “Sir, Anneka was affected by the mist or whatever it was on the train, I think she should go with you now. If it’s all right, I’ll wait with my brother.”

The black look Mugglewump gave her suggested that the Christmas break had done nothing to ease the potions master’s opinion of her. Even so he couldn’t argue with the logic and nodded. Anneka reluctantly allowed herself to be led away.

“What’s happening?” Lysander asked, still tucking his shirt into his trousers.

“No idea. I think it’s the mist. Mugglewump told us to stay behind and gather any first years who are still getting off the train.”

They waited, looking around them and called over the last few of their classmates as the stepped down from the carriages. Quite a few of them were in tears. Sounds of apparation and disapparation came from along the length of the train becoming slowly less frequent.

“I thought apparition wasn’t possible inside Hogwarts grounds,” Lori mused out loud.

“Hogsmeade is just outside the school ground,” Lysander said distractedly. “But I’m guessing those are the house-elves. Their magic works differently from ours so they’re not affected by the restrictions.”

“How do you know that?”

“I read. You should try it sometime, sis.”

Eventually their small group was all that was left on the platform and the mist drifting slowly towards them.

“What are you still doing here?” a high-pitched voice reached them from about waist level.

“Professor Flitwick,” Lysander stepped forward. “Lori and I were told to wait here and pick up the last first years off the train.”

“Where’s Professor Mugglewump?”

“He took the first group sir,” Lori said. “The entrance was getting a little crowded. He said he was coming back for us.”

“Follow me,” Flitwick grumbled and led them off the station.

They made their way through the village to the other end where a couple of odd-looking carriages waited for them. Two of the girls in their group let out a terrified scream.

Flitwick’s face turned grave, but he rallied quickly enough. “It’s all right.” He went to the two girls and placed a hand on each of their arms. Glancing quickly at Lysander he said, “Get everyone else into the carriages, Scamander. Keep a couple of spaces in the last one for these two.” Turning back to the two terrified girls he spoke in a gentler voice. “They’re called thestrals. Not everyone can see them. They’re perfectly safe.”

Lysander and Lori worked to organise the remaining students. Most were Hufflepuffs who’d stayed behind to help those who’d collapsed on the train along with a few from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, though not Slytherin. They were all a little subdued and allowed themselves to be directed. Lori and Lysander filled all but one of the carriages to capacity then climbed into the last one leaving the back seat clear for the two girls Professor Flitwick was guiding gently towards them.

“Thestrals. That's what Mum tried to show us when we first arrived, wasn't it?" Lysander asked Lori.

"I think so," she replied. "But we couldn't see them."

"Most people can’t," the professor replied. "Be thankful you can’t either.”

“I am. She told us what they look like. They sound rather scary.”

Flitwick helped the two girls up into the carriage as best as his diminutive size would allow and closed the door. Their round, saucer-like eyes confirmed her impressions.

“I’ll happily talk to you about them later. For now, get going up to the castle. I need to check the train to make sure we haven’t overlooked anyone.”

The ride up to the castle passed in eerie silence. The coach creaked and groaned as it negotiated the pitted track, but other than that there was no noise from the invisible creatures pulling them. The two girls sat wide eyed with terror, barely blinking.

“Would you like to swap seats?” Lori asked, thinking they’d be better off if they had their backs to whatever it was they could see. They shook their heads, apparently preferring to be as far away from the creatures as they could be.

In the dimming light of dusk they could see the mist spilling out from the forest and tumbling across the grounds. It moved more slowly than their coach and reached half-way across the open fields before it came to an abrupt halt, piling up against an invisible wall. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a winter thing.

-oOo-

The Great Hall was filled with the buzz of concerned voices. Snippets of the most recent wild speculation reached Lori’s ears as she led her fellow Hufflepuffs — the latecomers from the train — to their table and found a seat next to Anneka.

“I thought you’d be in the infirmary,” she said quietly, tucking her skirt under her as she sat.

“Madam Pomfrey gave me a quick look over and told me to go. They have every bed filled with students who didn’t come round, so those of us who weren’t as affected were told to go away and only come back if we felt anything strange.”

“Like what?”

Anneka shrugged. Professor McGonnagall had taken her place behind the lectern and was waiting while the conversations muted around her, the hush spreading out like a wave.

“I know you will all have a great many questions,” she began and paused as a ripple of murmurs passed though the hall. When silence returned, she continued. “I will not be able to answer them tonight. We have a number of students in the infirmary at present and Madam Pomfrey is doing her best to care for them. For now, I’m sorry but you will not be permitted to visit them.”

The murmur that followed this was louder.

McGonnagall raised her voice. “Madam Pomfrey has every bed in the infirmary filled and quite a few temporary ones beside. She is going to be busy enough tending to the large number of patients she has without the added problem of people visiting. She has also not yet ruled out the possibility that whatever ails your friends may be contagious.”

“It was the mist,” a Ravenclaw called out. “Everything happened when we went through the mist.”

“Thank you, Brooke. We are aware that the mist may well be the cause. It only sprung up this evening and we are as yet unsure as to where from. It is currently being kept at bay by the school’s wards so there is nothing to worry about.

“Ordinarily our first evening back at Hogwarts after the Christmas break consists of a welcome feast. I’m aware that you will all be concerned about the welfare of your friends, just as we are, however there is little to be gained by worrying over something that you can do nothing to mend and the food has already been prepared. We will enjoy the meal as best we can. I anticipate that most of you will not be in a mood to celebrate though, so as soon as you have eaten you will be permitted to return to your dormitories and settle in.

“I fully expect to have solved this mystery within the next few days. Until then, school life will continue as usual and full normality will be restored as soon as possible. This is not the way I wanted to welcome you back to school, but you are indeed welcome, and I look forward to seeing you all about the castle as we return to the tasks of teaching and learning.

“Now despite your cares I’m sure you’re hungry, so please tuck in.”

The meal met every expectation of a Hogwarts feast though it wasn’t enjoyed by many. Slytherin house seemed to be least affected by absences with all three of the other houses missing members from every year. For the most part people ate distractedly and sparingly, finishing early, long before the food came close to being exhausted.

Lori and Anneka left with most of the other Hufflepuffs at the earliest opportunity. Back in their dormitory they noticed a third bed had been made up and a third trunk placed at its foot.

“One more thing to get used to I suppose,” Anneka said dejectedly. She was still a little shaken by what she’d gone through on the train.

“It won’t be so bad,” Lori said. “Why don’t you use the bathroom first? We’ll both feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

By the time Lori had washed and changed, Anneka was in bed and asleep. She extinguished all but one of the lamps leaving the last on a low flame beside the new bed. It wasn’t necessary since the moon was still up, its light diffused by the mist to turn the sky into a milky sheet. The light seeped into the room through the high windows illuminating the room more effectively than the lamps.

Lori wasn’t particularly tired, so she went over to her desk and climbed onto it. The many circular windows in the Hufflepuff dormitories were too high up to to see through from floor level. Both she and Anneka had long since moved their desks so they were directly underneath one of them. It gave them better light to work by when the sun was up, but it also meant they could clamber up to look out of them. With the Hufflepuff dormitory being situated directly under the great hall, the windows were high up in the cliff face, offering a spectacular view of the Great Lake which might have been unnerving to anyone with a fear of heights. It wasn’t something that affected either of them and they often shared one desk and one window, looking out at the scenery side by side.

The sight before Lori was nothing like usual though. This mist had spread alarmingly, entirely obscuring the forest, reaching almost to the near end of the covered bridge and stopping in a wide curve about a hundred yards out into the lake. It formed a wall of milky white that reached up and over her head. Even the moon was hidden, recognisable only as a patch of brighter white than the rest.

McGonnagall had said they were safe, but for how long? There was something sinister about the mist, something the castle’s wards seemed to know they should repel, but how long would they hold out? And where had the mist come from? Certainly, there were dark wizards still about, but surely the power needed to create something like this had left the world along with the darkest wizard of them all, the one whose name no-one spoke.

The only thing Lori could think of was that stone Maledicta had sought out the previous term. McGonnagall had seemed worried about it when she’d shown her the box, but what was it? She knew what the headmistress would say if she asked about it, though. Concentrate on your learning and leave such problems to the teachers. But how could she do that? When the danger threatened her best friend along with dozens, perhaps hundreds, of students how could she sit idly by and do nothing?

Well, she wasn’t going to do nothing. She hadn’t decided what she would do, but she knew it would take a little finesse.

She climbed down from her desk and into her bed, her mind already probing at the problem. Something her mum had told her once. ‘There are tame problems and there are wild problems. The tame ones will come to you if you sit quietly and wait, but the wild ones need to be chased. There’s a difference between them you can feel if you try.’ This one felt like a wild problem, so she started going through her options on how to chase it; which professors to ask and how to approach them. She was more tired than she’d realised though, because the next thing she knew, she was woken by the door to their dormitory flying open and hitting the wall with a crash.

“Just my luck. I get to share with a couple of party-poopers.”

Lori looked over at Anneka’s bed, but her friend was too deeply asleep. She sat up in own in order to confront the newcomer. “Can you keep it down please? We’re trying to sleep.”

“Exactly the point I was trying to make.” The dim lamp flared bright and by it Lori made out the tall, slender shape of Hortensia Skunk. “It’s barely midnight. Where were you two?”

“What do you mean where were we? We left with almost everyone else from Hufflepuff, and that was hours ago. Where were you?”

“Partying with Slytherin. I tell you, that Raph Maledicta and his mates know how to enjoy themselves a lot more than you Stufflepuffs.”

“You’re a Hufflepuff too you know?”

“Not by choice.”

"No, me neither, but that still doesn't change where the Sorting Hat put us."

"The stupid thing made a mistake."

“I was told it doesn’t make mistakes.”

“It did in my case.”

“I thought the same. I thought I belonged in Ravenclaw with my brother.”

“Yeah, right! Like they'd have a freak like you in Ravenclaw.”

"Actually, I have quite a few friends in Ravenclaw."

"You wouldn't if you were in their house. It'd be the same here only Hufflepuff has such a pathetic reputation that nobody cares."

"You're wrong. It's because Hufflepuff does care about people more than reputation that they're happy for me to be here. You too if you'd only let them."

"I don't care what this bunch of losers think. I mean you should have seen who they had me sharing with last term! The really stupid thing is they still put me in here with you two saddos while my old dormitory is pretty much empty."

"What do you mean?"

"Three out of my four old room-mates are in the infirmary. There's only Millicent Lattimer in there now. Mind you, she was crying her eyes out when I came past. At least I might get a decent night's sleep here."

Lori was on the verge of asking if Hortensia even cared, but it was evident she didn't. It was time to end this conversation before they disturbed Anneka. "You won't get any sleep at all unless you get into bed. It's late and my friend nearly suffocated on the train this afternoon. She needs her sleep even if you don’t, so will you please turn that lamp down and be quiet?”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll go and wake a prefect. I really don’t want to, but if you disturb Anneka I will.”

“Yeah, well you keep to your side of the room, freak." Hortensia had to have the last word. "You come within three feet of my bed and I’ll cast reducio on that thing you’ve got between your legs. Not that I’d need to, I suppose. I’m guessing it’s not all that big in the first place.”

For a second Lori was tempted to let her try, but there was no guarantee it would be the only thing she’d shrink. Besides, Hortensia was just baiting her, trying to get her to react. Sometimes the best thing you could do in a situation like that was to ignore it.

“Good night Hortensia,” she said laying back down and snuggling into her pillow. “Welcome to the dormitory.”

The new girl muttered something under her breath. A short while later the lamp dimmed and a few minutes after that it went out.

Girls’ Changing Room – 7 – Mist and Maledictor by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021

-oOo-
Lori didn’t sleep long, waking some time before dawn. Anneka was still sleeping and a gentle buzzing noise from Hortensia’s bed suggested she had a mild snoring problem. Lori padded quietly over to her desk and climbed up to look through the frosted panes of the window. The moon must still have been up because the mist filled the sky with a faint silvery sheen. Far below, the surface of the lake lay black and still like a pool of spilt ink, otherwise there wasn’t much to see.

She hadn’t thought to hunt out her slippers, and despite the wooden desk being considerably warmer than the stone floor, her feet still hurt from the early morning cold. She was on the verge of returning to her bed when she caught sight of an indistinct shape floating in the mist. It looked a little like a robed and cowled person, except that it was floating about fifty feet above the lake. As she watched, it drifted towards the castle, bouncing off the invisible barrier around where the mist was held at bay. At the point of contact, a thin wisp of the whitness broke through and drifted towards her.

Lori clambered back down off her desk, pulled on her slippers and dressing gown and headed through to the common room where she found a short, plump figure standing on a chair and stretching to look out of one of the high windows.

"Professor Sprout?"

"Good morning Lori." The professor's voice held none of its usual cheer.

“I just saw something in the mist.”

“Yes, I’ve been watching them for a while now.”

"What are they?"

"It's hard to be sure, dear." The professor climbed down from her perch and forced a smile. "Would you like a cup of tea? I think I can stir a bit of life back into these embers." She reached for a poker and proceeded to do just that.

"They're pushing the mist through the barrier."

Professor Sprout paused, suddenly serious. "Show me."

"The windows are a little lower in our dorm; it's easier to see."

Lori led the professor quietly back to her dorm and helped her up on to her desk. The two watched silently while another ghostly form drifted into the barrier and recoiled. Again, a faint trickle of mist drifted in towards the castle.

"I hadn't spotted that," Professor Sprout whispered. "This is more serious than I thought. Come with me."

"What's happening?" Hortensia murmured.

"Nothing to worry yourself about," the professor told her. "Go back to sleep."

Professor Sprout led the way through the school’s labyrinthine corridors and stairways to an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar part of the castle. All the teachers were sitting around a large table beside a roaring fire in the largest fireplace Lori had yet seen.

"What's she doing here?" Professor Mugglewump scowled at her.

"She spotted something none of the rest of us did," Professor Sprout said. "Tell them what you saw, love."

Lori cleared her throat nervously. "They're er, they're knocking bits of mist through the barrier. Er, what are they?"

"Never you mind," Mugglewump snapped. "What do you mean, 'knocking bits of mist through the barrier'?"

"When they rebound from it, you can just see a thin trace of white mist moving towards the castle."

Professor McGonagall's lips narrowed to near invisibility. "Well, this explains a lot. They're not just barging into it mindlessly like flies against a window as you said Selwyn." She addressed her remark to the potions master. "It also tells us what happened to Elizabeth. That's Miss Mitchell to you, Lori."

"What did happen to her?" For the first time she noticed the young transfiguration teacher was missing.

"Sit down, Lori."

"Minerva, no!" Professor Sprout said putting an arm around the girl.

"She'll find out when we tell the rest of the school later, Pomona. Lori, I'm very sorry to tell you that Miss Mitchell died in her sleep earlier last night."

Lori's hands leapt to her mouth and Professor Sprout's arm tightened around her shoulders.

"You think it was the mist?"

Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Do you think…" Lori stopped. She couldn't say exactly what had changed in McGonagall's expression, but it warned her off mentioning the Bloodstone. "... those creatures are trying to kill us?" she finished rather lamely.

"It's possible. Lori, I don't want you to be frightened, but it's possible that what we’re seeing out there may be Dementors."

"Impossible!" Mugglewump hit the table with his fist. "There's no such thing anymore. Shacklebolt had them all destroyed. Even Azkaban's empty of them now."

"What else looks like that, Selwyn? And now we know they're acting with a purpose, we can't rule them out as being mindless. Their presence would go a way to explaining the general mood in the school."

"So would the fact that we have fifty-six students unconscious in the infirmary and one d…"

"Selwyn, be silent! Remember who's present."

Fifty-six! Lori had known the situation was bad but that was one in twenty of the school population. And if Miss Mitchell was dead, that meant everyone else was at risk.

"Lori, I'm going to have to ask you to keep that information to yourself," Professor McGonagall said.

"Yes professor."

McGonagall turned to the rest of the room. "Now, Pomona, if you'd take Lori back to her bed, I think it would be good if Filius could give us all a refresher on the Patronus charm."

"Please professor," Lori said. "I won't be able to sleep now. If there's a chance it might help, I'd like to stay and learn."

"Lori, the Patronus charm is very difficult," McGonagall said. "More than half the world's wizards go through their entire lives without successfully casting one."

"Actually," Professor Flitwick said. "Lori has proved to have something of an aptitude for charms. It would do no harm to see what she's capable of."

"It's all right professor." This time it was Neville Longbottom speaking. "I'll practice with her. My Patronus is still pretty good."

"As you like, but don't interfere with the rest of us."

Flitwick went over the basics and whilst he was helping everyone into the proper stance, Neville knelt beside Lori.

"It's quite straightforward," he said. "Just think of the happiest memory you have and let the feeling of the moment fill you while you cast the spell."

"How can you think of anything happy at a time like this?" Lori asked, watching Mugglewump cast his spell to produce a blindingly bright ball of light which shot through the wall without damaging it.

"Well, I have some very upsetting memories from when I was a little younger than you, and I could still find enough happiness to produce one. We all have some moment in our lives that outshines all the others. Take hold of that and give it a try."

There were enough moments from the recent Christmas break, but none of them stood out in her memory like the one that sprung immediately to mind. She recalled the sound of Anneka's laughter, the wind and branches whipping past, the powerful muscles bunching and flexing beneath her. It was like she was in the forest again.

"Expecto patronum!" she cried and waved her wand.

An enormous silvery white unicorn emerged from the tip of her wand, reared high enough for its head and shoulders to disappear into the ceiling and charged off through the wall in pursuit of Mugglewump's silvery ball.

The room fell silent as every eye turned her way.

"Did I do it wrong?" she asked. "Only it didn't look much like Professor Mugglewump's."

The sound of Neville's quiet laughter broke the spell. Professor McGonagall closed her gaping mouth and smiled, the first genuine smile Lori had seen since their return to school. "That was the most impressive thing I have observed from any student in the past ten years. Seventy-five points to Hufflepuff. Do you think you might be able to teach what you’ve learnt to others?”

“Er, I suppose I could give it a go.”

“Then to encourage you to try your best, I’ll offer a further twenty-five points to your house for each student you can teach to do the same. As for the rest of you, if you find me tempted to underestimate a student in the future, remind me of this moment."

They practised for a further half hour until the misty world outside started to brighten. Lori managed to reproduce her unicorn several times. Neville persuaded her to experiment with other happy memories and she found a number that worked just as well and one even better — the moment her father realised who she was and accepted her.

Professor Sprout led her back to her dormitory so she could get dressed.

"Where have you been?" Hortensia asked the moment she was through the door.

"I er, I had to speak to Professor Sprout about something."

"Not starting your period are you?" From the accompanying smirk it was apparent the remark was all spite and no humour. Lori ignored it and hunted through her wardrobe for her uniform. One of her cloaks was missing, specifically the one with the demiguise hair lining.

She looked over to Hortensia who was fully dressed and about to walk out with a cloak over her arm.

“Give it back,” Lori said in a quiet voice.

“Give what back?”

“You know perfectly well what. Give it back or else.”

“Oh this.” Hortensia held up the cloak. “It turns out I forgot to pack mine. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed one. I mean they’re all the same, aren’t they? And we Hufflepuffs need to stick together, don’t we?”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you’d asked first, and they aren’t quite the same. I prefer that one, so why don’t you take this one instead? It hasn’t been worn as much so it’ll look better on you.” Lori retrieved one of her other cloaks from her wardrobe and offered it.

“What if I prefer this one too? What if I just hang on to it?”

“Then I’ll have to call for a prefect and everyone will find out that you’re a thief as well as a liar.”

Hotensia’s superior smirk was back. “I forgot my cloaks and borrowed one. How does that make me a thief and a liar?”

“You were wearing a cloak when you came in last night so you’re lying about forgetting them and you’re a thief because you took that without asking and refused to give it back when I asked. You do know Raphael’s only being friendly with you because he sees you as a way of getting his hands on that? He’ll drop you the minute you give it to him, just like he’ll destroy it as soon as he has a chance.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because it’s no longer his. Professor McGonagall made him give it to me after that stunt he pulled last term. Even if you gave it to him, the house elves would return it to me by tomorrow morning.”

“What’s so special about it anyway?”

“Didn’t he tell you? Doesn’t sound like he sees you as much of a friend. I wonder how he’d react if you went to him and said you couldn’t get it from me.”

“Well, do what you have to, but you might want to check on your friend over there. She hasn’t woken up yet, which is unusual given her early night last night.” She turned and ran out of the room.

Lori’s attention was abruptly on Anneka. she ran over to her friend’s bed, pulled the covers back and had to bite her knuckles to stop herself from screaming. Anneka was deathly pale and lay very still. It took several seconds for Lori to notice the very shallow breaths her friend was taking and several more before she dared touch her forehead. She felt cold and clammy, but the touch roused her enough to move and groan quietly in her sleep. Lori spun on her heels and ran from the room.

“Professor Sprout,” she called as she ran.

“What is it, Lori?” The old professor’s face appeared from a nearby dormitory. “You should be dressed and heading for the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall is going to say something to the whole school at breakfast.”

“It’s Anneka,” Lori gasped. “She won’t wake up and she looks dreadful.”

“Not another one,” the professor muttered, then louder she said, “all right, I’ll take care of her, but you still need to get dressed.”

“And Hortensia took my cloak.”

“Well that hardly matters now does it?”

“But…”

“Get dressed girl and get to the hall. We’ll sort that out later.”

There wasn’t much else to do but what she’d been told. She propped Anikka up so that she was breathing more freely, then pulled the bedclothes up to cover her as best she could. Then she hurriedly washed and changed and ran for the hall. Filch appeared through a wall beside her and yelled at her to stop, but she ignored him.

-oOo-

The Great Hall was barely half full, the least affected being the Slytherin table which was missing less than a tenth of its number. Lori found Hortensia sitting by herself at the Hufflepuff table — the emptiest table in the room. She had a shocked look on her face. Lori approached her.

“Well?”

Hortensia held up a burnt scrap of cloth. “I offered it to him, and he cast confringo on it. He almost burnt me in the process, then he told me to go and sit with the other Hufflepuff losers where I belong. His friends all laughed.”

Lori took the burnt remains of the cloak and dropped them onto the table beside her. She sat next to Hortensia and sighed. There was food, but she didn’t feel that hungry. She picked up a piece of dry toast and started to nibble on it.

“I’m guessing it’s a little late to say sorry,” Hortensia mumbled.

Lori looked at her. She’d been nothing but selfish and unkind since they’d met the previous evening, and now she’d cost Lori her invisibility cloak. From the way everyone else was ignoring her it seemed she’d managed to alienate herself from pretty much every potential friend in Hufflepuff, and she’d done her best to push Lori away too. She didn’t deserve forgiveness, did she?

Lori thought about the reaction she’d had from Hufflepuff when she’d turned up wearing a dress. A lot of the people she now called friends hadn’t been too keen at first, but they’d given her a chance. She looked at her cloak, now a smouldering rag, and made a choice.

“It’s never too late to say sorry,” she said.

Hortensia looked up, her eyes round with surprise. “Do you mean that?”

“As much as you mean it when you say you’re sorry.”

“But I…” She pointed at the cloak.

“It’s only a thing. People matter more. It may take me a while to learn to trust you, but I do forgive you. You didn’t know he was going to this to it.”

“You did tell me.”

“And what reason did you have to believe me? He can be quite the charmer when he tries. Unless you have a reason to look for it, it’s hard to spot that he’s more snake underneath.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be making that mistake again.”

“Not so keen on Slytherin anymore?”

“Are you teasing me?”

“I didn’t mean to. Sorry if it came over that way.”

“I thought I belonged with them. I thought they thought I belonged with them. I guess I’m just the loser who didn’t make the grade.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s what my parents think. They told me as much. Sent me a howler the day after I was sorted. Never been so ashamed, they said.”

“Shows how much they know. I mean I hated it at first, but I’ve come to appreciate being in Hufflepuff. My great grandfather was in Hufflepuff, you know? Newt Scamander?”

Hortensia snorted. “I won’t tell you what my parents think of him. They think Grindelwald would have made the wizarding world great.”

“What do you think?”

“I, well I… I don’t know if anyone’s ever asked me what I think before.”

“Well? what do you think?”

“I… My parents would say what he did to those Muggles was their own fault, that they should know their place, which is as the servants of us wizards.”

“That’s what your parents think. I’m interested in what you think, or don’t your parents allow you to have your own opinion?”

“You’re making fun of me again.”

“No, I don’t mean to. Hortensia, I’m sorry. I’m only interested…”

Silence descended on the hall as Professor McGonagall stood at the lectern and waited.

“Good morning everyone. As you can see, we’re a little short on numbers this morning. It seems that quite a few more of your friends have fallen ill during the night. Too many for the school infirmary to deal with, so we have rearranged your sleeping quarters a little. Some of the dormitories in every house have been turned into makeshift nursing stations. It will mean that some of you — perhaps most of you — will have to accommodate a move into a different dorm room for the time being. As soon as we can find out what is ailing your friends and affect a cure, we will change arrangements back to the way they were.

“Now I’m not going to insult your intelligence by ignoring the mist currently surrounding Hogwarts. Some of you will already suspect it as being the cause of your schoolmates’ illness. Some of you may have noticed shapes moving about inside the mist. We are not treating this matter lightly and are actively taking measures to deal with the situation. For now, I must insist that all student remain within the castle walls. The protective charms around Hogwarts are currently keeping the mist considerably further away from us, but I do not want anyone of you approaching the mist. To this end I have enlisted the help of the castle ghosts to keep an eye on all of the entrances to the North and the East, and Hagrid will be guarding the covered bridge beyond the clock tower. I hope I don’t need to impress on you that any student caught ignoring these instructions will be dealt with in the most severe manner.”

She paused and looked around her at every student to press the thought home before continuing in a more subdued tone.

“Now I do have some very grave news to impart to you. Sadly, during the night Professor Mitchell passed away in her sleep…”

A shocked groan passed through the room. Even the Slytherin table seemed struck by the revelation, although in some cases the reaction seemed somewhat false.

“At present we do not know what caused her death. It is a great tragedy, and we shall mourn her passing in time. For now, what matters is we keep ourselves occupied. I ask you to bear with us as certain members of the faculty turn their attention to matters relating to your ill friends and the mist surrounding the school. This morning you will attend classes as usual — Hufflepuff and Slytherin, you will have a potions class with Professor Mugglewump first thing, then a history class with Professor Binns after morning break. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, you will have the same classes but in the reverse order. After lunch the whole school — such of you as are awake — will meet in the training ground for sessions practising defensive spells. Most of these will be led by students and I will expect you all to show them the same degree of respect as you would to any professor in the school.

“That is all for the present. Classes begin in thirty minutes. Do not be late.”

She stepped down from the front of the hall and made for the entrance, passing between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables.

“Professor McGonagall,” Lori called out as the head passed.

“Miss Scamander, this is not a good time…” She caught sight of the remains of the invisibility cloak. “Oh, I see.” Her eyes rested on Hortensia who wasn’t able to return her gaze, then swivelled around to look at Raphael, who wisely kept his back to her. “May I see it?” she asked Lori holding out a hand.

“It wasn’t what I wanted to say, but…” She passed over the remains of the cloak.

“Do you have any idea how this happened?”

“It was missing from my wardrobe when I got back to my dorm this morning, then it was just here when I sat down to breakfast.” Most of the truth at least.

McGonagall turned her piercing stare on Lori, who held it, just. “Very well. I’ll keep a hold of it if I may. What was it you wished to say? Be brief, I am busier than usual this morning.”

“I wondered if I could talk to you about you-know-what.”

“I really don’t have time at present, Lori. You should concentrate on your lessons for now and leave other things to us. Is there anything else?”

“Er, this afternoon…”

“You will be one of the students I’ll be asking to lead a session or two. Turn up in the training ground a few minutes early and you will be told what to do. Now if that’s all…” She didn’t really wait for an answer.

“I thought you were going to tell her about me.”

“Then I’d hardly have forgiven you, would I?” Lori smiled. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re okay, and we’ll stay that way as long as you don’t mess with me again.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t, and thanks. I don’t know if I could stare McGonagall down like that. What’s you-know-what?”

“It’s kind of private. Do you mind if I don’t talk about it?” Again, the truth, mostly.

“No, of course not.” Hortensia appeared grateful to have anyone talk to her. “Erm..”

“What?”

“It’s just, I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing.”

“Tell me anyway.” Lori took a second piece of toast and buttered it.

“Well, it’s just that when I was talking to Raph yesterday, when I was approaching him and his crowd, I heard him talking about something.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t really know. I heard him say something like, ‘I’m sure that freak followed me last time. As long as he has my cloak, I can never be sure if he’s sneaking around behind me.’ — Raph called you he, I’m sorry. That’s when I said I was sharing with you and could get it for him if he wanted, which is when he invited me into their group. Seems like you were right, and it was the only reason.”

“You’ve been trying to get in with them all this time, haven’t you?”

Hortensia nodded. “My parents were so ashamed of me, I thought if I couldn’t be in Slytherin I could at least have friends from there, but they all looked at me like something you scrape off your shoe.”

“That’s kind of the way you’ve been with everyone in Hufflepuff.”

“I know, and now it’s too late to do anything about it.”

“Don’t be so sure. I mean we’re all about second chances in this house. Look at me, they gave me one before they even knew me.”

“But there’s hardly anyone left.” She looked around at the nearly empty Hufflepuff table. “And the ones I was meanest to are all in the infirmary or the dorms. They’re all going to die before I have a chance to say I’m sorry.”

“What makes you think they’re all going to die?”

“Something Raph said last night. ‘This is just the beginning. First the mudbloods, then the half-bloods. In a few days there won’t be anyone left in this school but us pure-bloods.’

“I don’t know what he’s up to, but it’s bad.”

“And you went along with it?”

“You don’t know what it’s like! My mum and dad are always talking like that, and they’ve always expected me to as well. When I don’t laugh at Dad’s jokes or agree with him whenever he says that mudbloods are the worst thing in the wizarding world, he’s just so mean. It’s always been easier to go along with him.”

“But you don’t agree with him, do you?”

“No.” She looked around, suddenly afraid that something was going to jump out of the shadows and punish her. “To be honest, I don’t think my mum does either, but Dad’s such a bully.”

“Well, your dad’s not here now and I’m definitely not going to tell him you can think for yourself.”

“I don’t deserve this. I was such a… a you know.”

“Yes, but you aren’t any more and that’s what matters. If you want to make it up to me, you could help me find out what Raphael’s up to.”

“I’d be glad to, but I’m not part of their group anymore, remember?”

“I know, but there has to be someone Raph would talk to about it.”

“Well, he fancies Morgana Mulrose.”

“Who?”

“Morgana Mulrose.” Hortensia pointed out a tall, gangly girl sitting as far away from Raphael and his gang as was possible and still be on the Slytherin table.

“What’s to fancy about that?” Lori said wonderingly. “It looks like she could get a full-time job holding up beanstalks.”

“Oh my gosh! Are Hufflepuffs even allowed to talk like that?”

“I don’t see why not. I mean if there was a rule nobody remembered to tell me about it. Besides, we’re not supposed to be in Hufflepuff are we?”

Hortensia giggled.

“Do you think you could get me a strand of her hair?”

“What? Whatever for?”

“So, we can get some payback on Slytherin, Raphael Maledicta in particular.”

“I don’t think you’ve been listening to me. No-one in Slytherin will talk to me. Just because Raphael Maledicta isn’t friends with me doesn’t mean Morgana will give me some of her hair if I ask.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about asking.”

Hortensia grinned. “I had no idea Hufflepuffs could be like this.”

“Have you ever heard of Nymphadora Tonks? I’m told she was one of the worst mischief makers who ever came to Hogwarts. Rivalled even the Weasley twins. She was a Hufflepuff.”

“We should get going if we don’t want to be late for potions.”

“I always want to be late for potions, but I suppose you’re right.”

-oOo-

They headed back to their dormitory and collected their books. The potions classroom was in the dungeon nearby, so they made it in good time. Not soon enough for Mugglewump who gave Lori his usual venomous look.

“Hey Slytherin wannabe,” a voice came from the group of Slytherins nearest the door. “Given up and joined the rest of the freaks?”

“What did you say to me?” Hortensia turned on them staring at one tall girl in particular.

“I didn’t say anything.” Morgana shrugged. “Why would I say anything to you?”

Hortensia had been closing on her. At the last remark she charged, screaming, and wrestled her to the ground.

“What is this? Stop this at once.” Mugglewump tried to intervene and received a foot in the stomach for his efforts. He learnt from it and on his second attempt stayed out of their reach. “Stupefy!” he yelled flourishing his wand and the two girls froze where they were.

While a group of Slytherins pulled Morgana free, Lori moved in to help her newest friend. Her body was rigid, but her eyes were alive and glancing down to her right hand. Lori looked and found a large enough clump of Morgana’s hair that she winced at the thought of how much it must have hurt coming out. She muttered a quiet thanks to her ally and pocketed the sample.

“You two will come and see me as soon as you can stand,” Mugglewump said to the two girls. “Now take them to their dormitories. The rest of you, turn to page five in your books and start preparing the ingredients. Today we’ll be reviewing the sleeping draught, and I expect you all to do a lot better than your pitiful effort last term.”

A couple of Hufflepuff boys reluctantly helped Lori carry Hortensia back to her bed and left her to settle her in.

“This is perfect,” Lori said, retrieving the hair from her pocket. “Sorry it landed you in Mugglewump’s bad books. I wish you’d waited for Binn’s lesson; he may not even have noticed you and Morgana scrapping. I’ll check up on you later.”

She ran off to re-join the potions class and for once made an effort.

Hortensia and Morgana were back on their feet shortly before the end of the class. Mugglewump yelled at them both, stripped Slytherin and Hufflepuff of fifty house points each and told them to come back at lunchtime.

On the way to Binns’ classroom Lori passed Hortensia a flask.

“What’s this?”

“Sleeping potion. It turned out pretty well this time. Even Mugglewump couldn’t find anything to criticise about it. Just in case he finds a reason to let Morgana off at lunchtime, do you think you could find a way of giving this to her?”

“I’ve a better idea. Leave it to me.”

In the history of magic classroom, Hortensia followed Morgana and sat beside her, making apologetic overtures as she did so. The Slytherin girl tried to ignore her and move away, but Binns’ ghostly form was already standing in front of the class indicating they should sit.

He was his usual scintillating self and before the class was ten minutes in, pretty much everyone had fallen into a dull stupor. Lori had adopted Professor McGonagall's approach and read through the chapter being covered. It was on the history of Azkaban Prison and should have been riveting, but Binns had the capacity to turn even the most fascinating topics into a cure for insomnia.

Somehow Hortensia managed to stay awake too. Twenty minutes in. Morgana was snoring gently with her head tipped back. In one deft move, Hortensia unstoppered the flask of sleeping draught and poured it into the Slytherin girl’s mouth. She roused a little as the liquid reached the back of her throat, but reflexes took over and she swallowed. Another two minutes and she had her head cushioned in her arms and was snoring deeply.

Lori couldn’t help but admire Hortensia’s audacity. She shook her head and turned back to her book. She’d all but finished her reading and note taking and there was still a long half hour to go till the end of this particular torture. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be in the same shape as Morgana come lunchtime.

There was nothing for it. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She put her hand up and called out, “Professor Binns?”

Binns was slow to react as usual, but he did turn and peer myopically at the raised hand. “Yes, er Newton isn’t it?”

“Lori sir. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Bloodstone?” She sensed people rousing at her question. One individual in particular being Raphael Maledicta. She wondered if she’d been rash to raise the question in public, but it was done now.

“Hmm. wherever did you come across that reference, Newton?”

“It’s Lori sir. I read it somewhere I suppose.” True enough. It had been on the side of a box.

“Well, I suppose it is relevant to today’s topic. Er, let’s see. Yes, we’ve been talking about Azkaban as a prison, but it wasn’t always the place it is today. Do you know how it began, Newton?”

“Lori sir.” She tried one last time to correct the ghostly teacher. If he was going to insist on seeing her as her great grandfather, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She wondered idly if he’d actually been alive when great grandpa Newt had been at Hogwarts. “No sir, I don’t.”

“Well, no-one knows for certain unfortunately. There’s no record of the existence of the island before the fourteen hundreds, then all of a sudden we find reports in both Muggle and wizarding records of a mysterious mist covering a large area of the North Sea. A mist which brought on a great malaise and sent any wizard or witch brave enough to enter it utterly mad. Muggle sailors unfortunate enough to enter the mist never returned.

“It wasn’t until some fifty or sixty years later that the mist began to dissipate and its effects to weaken. The Muggle sailors remained wary of the region, but a few brave wizards ventured into it and found, at its centre, an island that existed on no charts and a fortress none had heard of. Those who entered it came out so appalled by what they found there that none of them ever spoke of it. From the documents recovered we know the name of the sorcerer who dwelt there was Ekrizdis. The only thing any of the wizards who investigated the fortress would say was he was a monster, the darkest of wizards. No-one knows where he came from though some unconfirmed reports suggest he was Eastern European in origin.

“The fortress remained abandoned for many years. Simply to enter the place was to be filled with an unutterable despair and to remain for any length of time was to put your very soul at risk, for the fortress was infested with creatures never before seen in the world. Named Dementors by the first wizards to investigate, many speculated whether they might have been conjured by Ekrizdis or drawn there from some unknown realm by the sheer abject misery of the place.

“Wizards debated over what must be done with the fortress for many years. Many felt it was too evil and had to be destroyed. Many more were afraid that the evil of the place was so great it would seek out vengance on those who destroyed it. More still worried about what would happen to the Dementors who had remained attached to the fortress following its discovery.

“Eventually, towards the end of the seventeenth century when the International Statute of Secrecy was drawn up, a controversial decision was made to convert Azkaban into a prison, which is the context in which we’re talking about it today.”

“Er, sir. The Bloodstone sir?”

“Oh yes of course, how silly of me, Newton. Completely forgot your question. It was discovered at the heart of the fortress. A blood red stone of irregular form from which exuded a fine mist. The Dementors seemed to feed off it as much as they did the misery of those they encountered. High level wizards from the Ministry removed it and hid it in a place where no-one might find it. The Dementors seemed unaffected by its departure; they seemed quite content to feed off of the wretchedness of the poor souls confined within the prison walls, many of whom became quite mad from the experience.”

“Why didn’t the ministry destroy the stone, professor?”

“A fair question, Newton. it was an artefact of considerable power and great evil. There is always a risk associated with the destruction of such things, not only to the individual attempting the feat, but to anyone else nearby. It was felt the safest thing to do was to store it away. It is safe enough.”

“What could it do sir?”

“Hmm? Hard to say. If Ekrizdis kept notes of his experiments, there is no record of their having been found on the island.”

“What do you think, sir?”

“I think it's foolish to speculate. History is about facts, Newton. If you don’t know you need to have the courage to say so. Don’t just make things up. That’s just stories.

“Goodness me, is that the time? Class dismissed.” with that he turned and walked through his blackboard leaving almost the entire class awake and wide eyed.

A few Slytherins tried to rouse Morgana but left her when she didn’t respond. Hortensia caught up with Lori as she was leaving the class.

“Is that what you think this is then?” she asked. “This mist and those things in it. It’s the Bloodstone, isn’t it?”

“I think it may be, yes. You’d better get to your detention. If Mugglewump asks about Morgana…”

“I haven’t seen her, I know. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try and find out what Raphael knows.”

-oOo-

She had it all planned. Students tended to stay away from the history of magic classroom unless their timetables told them they had to be there. It seemed steeped in a sort of residual tedium from all the dull years Binns had been droning forth from the front. It meant the place was empty but for Morgana and herself.

Lori started by undressing the tall girl, stripping her down to her underwear. Then she dragged her into one of the classroom storage cupboards and locked her in. It would be a safe enough place to keep her until she was ready to switch back.

She pulled the bottle of polyjuice potion out of her book bag where she'd secreted it earlier and added Morgana's hairs. Aware that she could have helped herself from the sleeping girl's head she murmured an apology to Hortensia for the trouble she'd led her into.

The potion tasted just as foul as Anneka — or perhaps Professor Longbottom through Anneka — had promised; something like over-boiled greens. The sensation of changing was indescribable and disconcerting, as was the feeling of looking down at her own stick thin body from a full foot higher than normal. Weirdest of all was the way her body felt so different. Nothing between her legs for once. She was tempted to look but decided that wouldn't be right. For all that she resembled a rake, her hips felt a mile wide and the way they moved when she walked felt entirely strange.

She slipped into Morgana's clothes, hid her own and made her way down to the Great Hall for lunch. She fought off the urge to join the few remaining Hufflepuffs and made her way over to the Slytherin table.

"I thought you had detention with Mugglewump."

She shrugged. "It was obvious it was that Skunk girl's fault. Mugglewump let me off with a warning."

"I thought you were going to sleep the day away in Binns' classroom."

"What's new? He has to be the most boring person in existence."

"But you were out for the count. We tried to wake you."

"So? It must have worked, 'cos I'm awake. Do you mind if I eat?"

They left her alone and she munched her way through a couple of sandwiches, all the while aware of Raphael glancing over in her direction. By the time she'd finished eating, she was convinced Raph was onto her. She stood up and walked out of the hall wondering what had gone wrong. Had she overplayed her hand in Binns' class?

"Morgana, wait up." It was Raphael.

"What do you want?" she snapped, unable to stop herself. Something about him left her with a desire to be a long way away.

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. You know, go for a walk or something?"

Play it cool Lori, she told herself. "Well, I was planning on taking a stroll anyway…"

"Great, I'll join you. I-if you don't mind that is." He was pathetic.

"If you have to," she sighed. She couldn't afford to depart too far from Morgana's normal behaviour, besides the more she kept Raphael off balance, the better her chances of getting him to reveal something.

Besides besides, it was fun watching him squirm.

She made her way across the viaduct and through to the middle courtyard. It was popular with Hogwarts students seeking outside entertainment but still large enough that they could walk and talk in relative privacy. The last thing Lori wanted was to be somewhere completely alone with Maledicta but the second to last thing was to be overheard, and the place seemed like a good compromise.

"So, what do you think that's all about?" She nodded at the milky white sky visible above them.

"The mist? No idea."

She stopped abruptly, Raph following suit a second later.

"I've changed my mind. I don't think I feel like walking after all."

"What? Why?"

Lori turned and headed back the way she had come with Raphael capering alongside her. "What was it you said last night?" she asked. "'This is just the beginning? First the mudbloods then the half-bloods?' I thought you knew something, but you just like the sound of your own voice, don't you?"

"I do know things though."

Lori paused momentarily, keeping Raphael off balance both literally and figuratively, then kept walking. "You are such a disappointment, you know?"

"I stole the Bloodstone!"

She paused again and twitched an eyebrow at him.

"You know? That thing the Scamander freak was banging on about in Binns' class?"

"I don't remember much of Binns' class."

"That's all right 'cos Binns didn't know much anyway."

"And I suppose you do?"

Raphael gave her a knowing and all too self-satisfied smirk.

“The Bloodstone is a bridge between realms. It was found by this genius warlock called Ekrizdis. He discovered its power when he cut his hand on it. It absorbed his blood and started giving off this strange mist."

"That doesn't sound all that clever."

"His genius," Raph scowled, "was in understanding what it all meant. That the mist came from a different realm, which he called the Realm of Mists. That blood on the stone opened a doorway between the other realm and ours. That the mist drew any who touched it towards the stone.

“He sensed a presence on the other side and tried adding more blood. The mist thickened and eventually this ghostly creature came through and attacked him, seeking to suck his very soul from his body, but he had a mighty will and resisted, creating a light of his own in the mist’s gloom, driving the creature from him.”

“The first Dementor.”

“And the first Patronus.

“He knew he needed a place of seclusion to experiment, so he created Azkaban, using his great will and powerful magic to draw the very sea bottom up to the surface, creating the island upon which he built his fortress, then he set to with his studies.

“He drew enough of the mist from the stone to entice a large ship to his shores, wrecked it and bled the sailors dry, channelling the flow of blood into the stone until it had produced such a mist that it surrounded the island for miles in every direction. The portal he opened to the other realm permitted more Dementors to come through, and these he fed with the souls of the mariners who continued to be drawn to his shores.

“Binns was wrong when he said that it sent wizards mad. It had just the same effect on them as it did on the Muggle seamen who entered it, merely drawing them to the centre where the Dementors waited to feed. Ekrizdis was cunning though. He knew that if wizards were to disappear then more would come, so he made them subjects of his experiments, drove them mad himself before releasing them beyond the mist.

"Ekrizdis believed that Muggles were born to serve the wizarding world and it galled him that they should be permitted to walk free while witches and warlocks were hunted to their deaths, defeated not because they were weaker but because they were so much fewer in number. His primary goal was to find a way to bend them to our will, to make them slaves as they should be, and if he couldn’t do that then he would find a way to kill them all.

“He experimented with the stone, altering it through hexes and dark incantations in an attempt to change the nature of the mist it gave out. Making it deadly he found simple enough, but then making it discriminate between Muggles and purebloods proved more of a challenge. Eventually he created a spell that did just that. He called it Mors Mundani — Death of the Ordinary. It doesn't just affect Muggles but anyone or anything with less than half magical heritage. The mist sticks to the inside of their lungs so that it doesn’t matter how hard they breathe it doesn't do them any good. The less magic they have the quicker they die."

“And that’s what this mist is? First the mudbloods then the half-bloods?"

“Exactly! And I helped release it!”

“Why didn’t this Ekridis do that?”

“That was his one mistake. He felt killing the Muggle world was a waste. He wanted them enslaved so they could pay us back for all the deaths they had caused with their witch hunts. He held Mors Mundani in reserve for if ever the Muggles found a way to attack him on his island, but he continued his experiments, seeking a way to turn them into mindless slaves.

"How do you know all this?"

"I’ve seen the book. My mother’s family founded a secret society called the Order of Purity after one of mother’s forebears, who was among the first wizards to visit Azkaban after Ekridis' death, found the warlock's grimoire — called the Regnum Caligo — and took it. He wasn't able to recover the Bloodstone though, and the Order has been searching for it for hundreds of years, waiting to get their hands on it. When they discovered it was being held at Hogwarts, mother insisted I be allowed to join the Order — the youngest member since its inception — so I could take advantage of being here.

“The Regnum Caligo lists all the experiments Ekridis performed. After he created the Mors Mundani, he turned his efforts on the Dementors themselves, seeking to change them as he had the stone. In their case his spells altered them so that they sapped the will of whoever they attacked rather than their life force.

“The Dementors didn’t take kindly to the change. His last entries speak of them becoming increasingly restless. He altered them more so that they might feed off misery and despair, but still they turned on him. His last entry is a near illegible scribble that reads, ‘They’re coming. So many, I don’t think I can hold them off.’

“His corpse was found beside the grimoire, little more than skin and bone with everything else sucked out of him.”

“So, he really wasn’t that much of a genius after all.”

“The downfall of every genius is hubris, at least that’s what my dad says. He thought he was clever enough to mess with the Dementors and get away with it. He was wrong, and The Order has learnt from his mistake. The Order believes that the wizarding world is being held back by tainted blood, that our mixing with Muggles makes us weak. Ekrisdis was so fixated on enslaving them he didn’t see that we don’t need them at all. We’ve known for a long time that the answer was to release the Mors Mundani. All the Muggles will be wiped out, along with all the half-bloods and mudbloods and the world will belong to pure wizarding kind as it should. All that was needed was the Stone and I stole that last term.”

"So what now? The mist continues to spread until it covers the whole world?"

“No, that would be a bad idea. Remember, the greater the mist the bigger the portal, and that will mean more Dementors. Original Dementors too, ones that suck your life rather than your soul. The stone was placed into a cauldron full of blood, enough to create a fog that covers about ten square miles — that’s about three miles in every direction from the centre.”

“How long will it last?”

“As far as we know, until it’s dispelled.”

“And how does one do that?”

“Apparently you need the box for that.”

Lori gave him a quizzical look.

“When I was sent to steal the stone, no-one mentioned that I should take the box as well. The stone was easy enough to hide, but the box was this big,” he held out his hands demonstrating just how big. “Quite heavy and made out of stone. I left it behind.”

“That’s a bit stupid.”

“It’s not my fault. They didn’t tell me they needed it. It’s fine though, I’ll get it tonight and we should be able to stop the attack whenever we want, once all the mudbloods and half-bloods have died.”

Lori fought to control her expression. "And how do you think you're going to get it out of Hogwarts?" She waved at the mist wall.

"You forget, purebloods aren't affected by the mist. I can walk out of here any time I like. So can you. What do you say? Do you want to be a part of making the world a better place?"

“What about the Dementors?”

“What Dementors?”

Lori rolled her eyes. “You said yourself when you pour blood on the stone it opens a portal that allows the mist through, and that it lets Dementors through too.”

“But that’s the clever part. You see we’ve used Ekrisdis’ research to work out how much blood will open the portal without letting the Dementors in, which is why it’s only this big.”

“So how come there are Dementors floating about in the fog?”

“There aren’t. There can’t be. We calculated this precisely.” He looked at the mist wall.

Lori realised she’d only seen them at night. With the Slytherin common room and dormitories down in the dungeons where there were no windows, Raphael would never have seen the mist at night. Neither would Morgana for that matter.

“So why does McGonagall have us learning defensive spells this afternoon?”

“She’s just trying to scare us into staying away from the mist. Besides, the only thing that defends against a Dementor is the Patronus charm and what’s the chances of a first-year learning something that complicated.”

“Oh!” Lori’s eyes went wide. How could she have forgotten? She was supposed to be doing just that after lunch, but not as Morgana Mulrose.

“What?” Raphael asked.

“Nothing,” she said fighting to control the rising panic inside her. Raphael had said pretty much all he had to say; it was time to go and deal with the next problem. “I’ll tell you what Raph, you go and find this box of yours and take it for a walk in the mist if that’s what you have to do. If you make it to the other side, then by all means come and find me again. Right now, I’m not interested.”

She turned and walked swiftly away leaving Raph in a worried and pensive mood.

The great bell tolled as she made her way out of the middle courtyard. Fifteen minutes before the afternoon was due to begin. A mad idea filled her head. She needed to find her brother and fast. She broke into a run.

Girls’ Changing Room – 8 – A Day in the Live by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021 c

I’ve made a few minor changes (of little consequence) to the previous chapter. The afternoon spell practice now takes place in the training ground where I initially intended to put it (I doubt the whole school population – diminished as it is – would squeeze into any of the courtyards), and I’ve moved the location of Lori’s encounter with Raphael to the Middle Courtyard, otherwise being in the training ground would likely trigger her memory that she was expected to be there after lunch.

-oOo-
The library was the nearest and first place to start looking. It took Lori only seconds to reach it and without encountering any teachers. She slipped in as surreptitiously as she could and found her brother surrounded by books in the central reading area. She approached him quickly enough to earn a sharp glare from Madam Pince.

"Lye, you've got to help me," she hissed

He looked back confused. "I'm sorry, who are you?" he replied in a whisper suitable to their surroundings.

"The same person who gave you your oină bat and ball for Christmas. The same person you gave these earrings to.” She showed him her ear. She hadn’t taken the earrings off except to wash since Christmas day.

“Lori? What the…”

“No time, come with me quickly.” She grabbed her brother’s hand and led him outside. Binns’ classroom was nearby. She pulled him in and closed the door. As she’d hoped, no-one was there with the exception of the sleeping occupant of one of the cupboards — who was out of sight and snoring quietly.

“Okay,” Lysander said. “Explanation.”

“Anneka gave me a bottle of polyjuice potion for Christmas remember?”

“And this is who you become?”

“Not my first choice but I do have my reasons, which I don’t have time to go into. Right now I’m stuck like this until maybe around midnight tonight, and McGonagall’s expecting me out in the training ground in ten minutes to show everyone how to cast the Patronus charm.”

“You can cast a Patronus? Since when?”

“Since this morning, but that’s not the point. The point is I can’t go out there looking like this.”

The twin thing took over. Lysander’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, no way.”

“Lye please, there is no other way. We’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“Not since you’ve been wearing a skirt. Besides, how do you expect me to cast a Patronus?”

“I’ll show you. We have ten minutes and our twin thing. You’ll get it. It’s really not that hard.”

“So how come most wizards can’t do it?”

“I don’t think most wizards try hard enough. Besides, if you can’t do it, you can put it down to nerves. You’ll get laughed at a bit, but it’ll be my reputation that takes the hit.”

“Where am I going to get some of your clothes? Neither of us can get into your dorm looking like we do.”

Lori pulled her uniform out from its hiding place and Lysander groaned.

-oOo-

“I feel like a proper twit,” he said looking down at the skirt and tights covering the lower part of his body.

“You look like me, which is to say cute.” She pulled him over to a window which showed enough of a reflection.

“My hair’s different.”

Lori looked around. People were always leaving stuff in this classroom. A mixture of dulled senses and a desperate need to escape. She found a bobble hat on a coat hook beside the door.

“There. No-one will see your hair now, and it’s cold enough outside that nobody's going to question your wearing something like this.”

“So all you need to do is teach me the Patronus charm in, what, five minutes?”

“No problem.”

She took up the stance which Lysander copied exactly. She repeated what Professor Longbottom had told her pretty much word for word. Lysander nodded. She moved her wand in the correct form and shouted, “Expecto patronum.” The magnificent unicorn appeared and charged out through the blackboard. Again, Lysander copied. He could feel the way Lori inhabited the memory, embraced the feeling within it. He did the same.

Nothing happened.

“What memory did you choose?”

“That first day at the dragon sanctuary when that Norwegian Ridgeback flew over us. That was so awesome.”

“That should do it, but I think you’re feeling self-conscious about the clothes. No-one’s going to know it’s you Lye. Just abandon yourself to the memory. Don’t let anything from the here and now get in the way.”

He tried again. This time a small, bright silvery ball emerged and disappeared through the wall.

“Better,” Lori said. She listened to her twin’s intuition. “But I don’t think you expected it to work. Now you’ve seen that it does, so you know you can do it. Try one more time, but this time believe in yourself. I know you can do it; you need to know it just as much.”

Third time was the charm, literally. It was still nothing more than a ball of light, but it was bright, fizzing, rapid. Not as spectacular as Lori’s but impressive none-the-less.

“Brilliant. We’re out of time but that should do it. Try experimenting with different memories; you may find one that works better.”

“Won’t they be expecting a unicorn though?”

“Tell them you were practising and this is all that came out. It’ll work Lye. Hide your clothes here. No-one comes into Binns’ room unless they have to, so when you’re done, sneak back in here and change. Leave my clothes in the same place and no-one will have any idea.”

“You owe me big for this.”

“So big. Anything at all, no question. You go first. I’ll see you out there.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“Don’t you think it’ll look a bit odd me hanging out with a gangly Slytherin girl?”

“So big.” He echoed Lori’s words, took a deep breath and ducked out into the corridor.

Lori counted to fifty and followed. Lysander was already standing in front of a group of interested students. She heard him say, “I’m a bit nervous so don’t expect much at first.” then he whipped through a perfect stance and execution and a bright fizzing ball emerged from the end of his wand.

His students were impressed but McGonagall gave him a suspicious look. “No unicorn, Lori?”

“It’s like I said professor, I’m a bit nervous.”

He started going through the students checking on their stance and leading them slowly through the wand action. He was a natural teacher, Lori thought proudly.

She gravitated towards another crowd where a Gryffindor boy was teaching the cheering charm. Thinking it might be useful, she joined the group and in next to no time she felt better than she had since returning to school. Anneka was still unconscious in her bed, Miss Mitchell was still dead, half the school population still hung under the threat of the mist surrounding them, but somehow the spell managed to fill her with a sense that everything would turn out right.

They rotated through the afternoon and eventually she found herself in Lysander’s group. She deliberately focused on less happy memories, but she could feel the power of the Patronus within her. Now that she’d cast it successfully several times, it swelled inside her, bursting to get out.

She took a break from her efforts, willing the feeling inside her to subside. She took the time to look at her brother, really to look at him for the first time in possibly forever. He was in his element teaching. He’d already successfully instructed at least a half dozen of his students to do what he hadn’t been able to manage fully himself, and Patronuses in their various animal forms pranced around the grounds. She saw him look across at her and suddenly a great smile spread across his face.

“Expecto patronum,” he yelled, abandoning himself totally to the cry. A flaming bird the size of a swan leapt from the end of his wand, shimmering with a silvery brilliance and shot across the grounds.

It was a glorious moment that Lori embraced as fully as her brother. In its own way, Lysander’s phoenix was just as magnificent as her own unicorn. The only thing that spoilt the moment was McGonagall looking sharply across at her brother.

Whatever she was thinking, for some reason she held it in. There wasn’t much time left of the afternoon and it seemed mere minutes later she called for an end to the afternoon’s exercise, declaring the rest of the afternoon as free time. She looked again at Lysander, opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it and left the field herself.

Lori made her way back to Binns’ classroom and waited for her brother. She knew he had something he wanted to share. He was ten minutes in coming, and when he finally did fall through the door, he was wearing the biggest grin she had ever seen on him.

“I couldn’t get away. Everyone wanted to say thank you. I think I earned you some real kudos out there.”

“Does that mean I owe you even more?” She asked, smiling.

“No, I think we can say all debts are paid in full after that. Lori, I know what I want to do with my life.”

Lori waited, fully aware of what was coming.

“It wasn’t until most of the way through the afternoon that I realised how amazing it felt doing what I was doing. By comparison, the dragon thing was nothing. I looked over at you and I could feel what you were holding back and it was the same as the feeling bubbling up inside me. I knew I could do it, so I did.”

“Any idea why a phoenix?”

“I think it’s the way I see you, Lori. You’d better not tell anyone this, but you’re something of an inspiration. You are every bit the phoenix reborn from the ashes of your old life.”

“So how do you feel about the skirt?”

“No, that much I can do without.” He retrieved his clothes and began to change. “But as for the rest of it…”

“I guess that leaves you with just the one problem, Professor Scamander. What do you think you want to teach?”

“Well, charms feels a little frivolous. The Patronus charm is really a defence against the dark arts spell. We’ll see, I’ve got years of learning to do first before I make up my mind.” He stood up, feeling more comfortable in his own uniform. “Thanks sis, this really was the best experience ever.”

She reached down to hug him which felt weird. She didn’t quite have the heart to tell him that at the very least Professor McGonagall had seen through his disguise.

Once he was gone, she picked up her clothes which he’d left strewn across the floor. Why were boys so messy, she wondered? She folded them and put them away in their hiding place.

She relaxed for the first time since she’d drunk the polyjuice potion. She’d succeeded in extracting all the information Raph had to offer, she’d survived the afternoon. She didn’t have anything else she needed to do for the moment, except explore what it really felt like to be a girl.

She walked over to the window and focused on the reflection staring back at her. It felt odd to be wearing someone else’s face. She raised long, slender fingers and touched her cheek, her nose, her lips. Despite the spiteful words she’d shared with Hortensia earlier, she could see why Raph found the face looking back at her attractive. It was all angles and sharp lines, but it held the potential for real beauty. She felt Morgana’s self-consciousness at her present appearance and her hope of what it would grow into. Looks mattered so much to a girl. Being in between as she had been for so much of her life, she’d been able to see how it affected both sides of the gender divide. Older boys had this constant competitiveness in their peer interactions which extended even to whether or not they had a girlfriend and what she looked like. Boys could be ridiculed for something as petty as being seen with a girl who was less than good looking. Most girls seemed to have picked up on this to some extent and, as a result, tended to worry about their appearance because they wanted boys to like them.

It all seemed so unfair. She wondered if that was why so many more girls seemed to be hooking up with other girls. None of the mess and the smell. None of the superficial judgement. Someone who’d talk to you, who was sensitive to your moods, who was gentle. She thought about Anneka and felt a warmth flood through her. Anneka was more than a friend, and if she could feel about her like this when she was altogether a girl, maybe she should reconsider being more than friends.

Then something entirely new occurred to her. She stepped out of the history of magic classroom and started looking about her. She looked at the boys first, looking for anything approximating a spark. Then she looked at the girls and felt her emotions rising up. It was involuntary, a reaction that belonged to the body more than Lori’s mind. As herself she knew she felt no attraction to most of them, but in Morgana’s body she found them...

“Hey you.”

She jumped and spun to find herself face to face with someone almost her own height.

“Hey you yourself, gorgeous,” she said, unable to stop herself.

“Really?” Hortensia’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh wow, I forgot to mention that didn’t I? There’s a reason Morgana isn’t into Raph.”

“Is that why she’s always so standoffish?”

“Doesn’t want to encourage the guys, doesn’t trust herself around the girls. Pretty much.”

“That’s awful. How does she cope?”

“You are currently in the best position to know. By the way, I’d keep a really low profile for the rest of the day. Mugglewump is not best pleased with you. Where did you get the polyjuice potion?”

“You figured it out?”

“The need for Morgana’s hair, the cryptic comment about finding out what Raph knows. It took a while, but I got there. You look pretty good as a tall, gangly Slytherin.”

“Thanks I think. So where should I go to avoid our dark and moody potions professor?”

“Well, when he let me go after lunch he was heading for the Slytherin common room, so I’d advise against the dungeons. He didn’t come to the training session — probably too crowded for him — and now everyone’s free to do what they want my best guess is he’ll check out the Great Hall next, then the courtyards, then you know, all the usual student hangouts.”

“Probably best to go back into Binns’ classroom then.”

“No way, that’s so depressing in there. I doubt he’d think of looking in the library.”

“You think that’s better?”

“There are books on Azkaban. Loads of them. You never know, we may find out something new.”

Lori wasn’t so sure but being around Hortensia filled her with a warm fuzzy feeling. She felt oddly guilty about it, but there wasn’t anything better to do. They made their way there separately, not wishing to start any unfounded rumours. It was pretty much empty, offering a selection of tables. They chose one of the larger ones out in the open away from the shelves, which suited Lori very well.

They worked their way through pretty much every book the open section of the library had on the prison and learnt nothing new. They found a few doodles added in the margins, one of which looked a little like the Bloodstone to Lori, but nothing else on the page suggested why it had been drawn. In the end there wasn’t much to tie the shapeless rock to the formless doodle, so they pressed on.

It took them all the rest of the afternoon. They knew Mugglewump preferred to eat late, so they made their way to the Great Hall as soon as dinner was served — again separately. Lori had nearly finished hers when a shadow fell across the table.

“Perhaps you’d care to explain why you did not come to detention at lunchtime.”

“I had no intention of being alone with that crazy girl again, professor.”

“I would have been there.”

“With respect sir, you weren’t a lot of help last time.”

“I did separate you in the end.”

“Sure. She attacked me without provocation. She pulled my hair, nearly scratched my face and the best you could do was stupefy us both. Well, not twice in one day sir. If you don’t like it let’s talk to Professor McGonagall about it.”

“No. We’ll leave it for now, but you will be in my classroom at the beginning of your lunch hour tomorrow. The Skunk girl won’t be there, so you have no excuse. Refuse to turn up a second time and we will go and see Professor McGonagall. Are we clear on this, Miss Mulrose?”

“Yes sir.” She finished her meal and walked out of the Great Hall.

“That was nicely handled,” Hortensia said as she walked past.

“Are you trying to get us a reputation?”

“I don’t know, I could be into her if she was more like you. For now though, I was wondering what plans you had for the real Morgana. I gave her the sleeping draught at lunchtime, so she’ll be waking up about now.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I made enough for a couple of doses. Do you fancy helping me give her a nightcap?”

“Let’s do it.”

Morgana was only beginning to show signs of waking up when they got to her. The second draught went down easily enough.

“I feel a bit bad about letting her wake up here like this,” Lori said as she closed the cupboard door. “She’s going to have no idea how she ended up in there or why she’s suddenly awake in the small hours of the morning, and then she needs to know about her detention tomorrow.”

“Leave that to me,” Hortensia said with a very private smirk. “I’ll make sure she’s okay, but I’ll need some clothes for her.”

“Thanks, I’ll get you some. You know I’m beginning to think I made the right decision about you.”

“Only beginning?”

“I’ll see you in the morning. I don’t suppose you have any idea what the Slytherin password is?”

“No, but see if you can find Hannah Nagron or Maddy Pentwhistle. They’re two of your dorm mates. They’re also the ones who told me that Morgana was into girls. Hannah usually plays wizard chess in the courtyard after dinner.”

“You are such a mine of useful information.”

“And you’re pretty much the first friend I’ve had since I got here.”

“Your fault for looking in the wrong places then. See you in a bit.”

-oOo-

Lori knew Hannah from transfiguration class. She was a bright witch with a talent for the intricacies of changing one thing into another, which probably explained her interest in chess as well. She was where Hortensia had said she’d be. Hannah nodded a greeting and returned to her game. Lori watched from a distance until the other player’s king lay down, only to be beheaded by a pawn. Hannah reached across and shook hands with a Gryffindor two years her senior.

“All right Morgana?” she said walking across.

“More or less. I was wondering if you were heading back to the common room any time soon. I could use some company.”

“This isn’t…”

“No, of course not. You already told me you’re not interested.” Lori had seen the worried look in the girl’s eyes and made an educated guess. If Hannah knew about Morgana and was spreading the gossip, then it almost certainly meant she wasn’t of a similar mind.

“So!” Hannah fell into step beside Lori. “What did you think about that Scamander freak. who’d have thought he could cast a Patronus, let alone teach others to do it?”

“Yeah. Who else managed it?”

Hannah ran off a string of names only a few of which Lori recognised, then added, “I tried but couldn’t. No happy thoughts.”

“Sucks for you.”

“You?”

“Same, pretty much.”

“Sucks for both of us then. Here we are. Parseltongue.”

The painting opened and let them through. Lori followed Hannah to their shared dorm. Five occupied beds. Not tidy, not untidy either. Nightdresses laid across the ends of the beds. Only one of them would fit Morgana’s height and slenderness. She crossed the room and sat on her bed.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Hannah asked.

“Oh, anything or nothing. Just felt like having some company.”

“I know what you mean. That stuff out there gives me the creeps. Shame about Lavender too. I liked her.”

Lori had no idea who Lavender was, but she suspected one of Slytherin’s rare half-bloods. The house boasted they’d not hosted a single Muggle born in more than a century.

“Voldemort was a half-blood wasn’t he?” she pondered. From the hiss at the other side of the room her speculation wasn’t welcome. “Just saying. This fog doesn’t discriminate. Who’s to say it won’t start on us next?”

“Listen Morgana. If that's what you want to talk about, find someone else. I’m not interested.”

Lori shrugged. “Sorry.” She managed to say the word without appearing to mean it. “I’m going to take a shower, then I’ll see if I can find anyone to talk to in the common room.” She picked out two changes of clothing and headed for the bathroom.

Clean skin and clean clothes did wonders for her mood, but by the time she made it into the common room it was empty. Which suited her fine since she didn't really want to talk with anyone. It was late but not yet too late to be out for a walk. She took the spare set of clothes to Hortensia — still keeping watch in Binns’ classroom — reclaimed her own and headed back to the dungeons. She couldn’t afford to be in the Slytherin common room when she changed back, so she found a dark corner in sight of the entrance portrait, cast felis sensorium on herself — hoping it wouldn’t affect the reverse transformation — and settled down to wait.

There wasn’t much else to do, so to pass time and keep herself awake she reflected on her experiences in Morgana's body, or rather with her own body resembling Morgana's.

The biggest difference she’d noticed was in her emotions, which surprised her because she'd been expecting it to be her physical change. Sure, there was the height thing and the long gangly limbs, but that had nothing to do with being a girl. She was aware of books feeling heavier, doors seeming stiffer, but again that could be because the girl whose body she'd chosen wasn't that strong. Certainly, there didn't seem to be a lot of space for muscle in the stick thin arms and legs. She'd also been aware of an itchy tenderness in her chest and a gap between her legs, the latter being the most significant physical difference.

But her feelings! They were all so much closer to the surface, so much more intense. The way her heart raced in the presence of certain girls. That indescribably awful feeling when Raphael was talking to her. She'd encouraged him for sure, but all the while she'd had to fight the most intense emotion she'd ever felt. She didn't know what it was but if she'd been asked to give it a name, it would probably have been, 'JUST GO AWAY!!!'. Then there was the fear that had almost swamped her when she'd realised she had no way of giving the Patronus lesson, and the equally overwhelming sense of relief when she'd found Lysander.

She wondered how girls coped with it, whether it became easier to handle with practice. Like steering a straight line through a storm, she mused, with giant waves pushing you in random directions all the time.

Anger felt different too. Not so much the slow burn and deep resolve to do battle with whatever had caused the rage, but more of a tendency towards hopelessness and despair. She’d met some girls who could be really vindictive though, so she suspected this was just a tendency in Morgana. It did make her wonder what it must feel like to face real cruelty feeling as she did, especially from someone you cared for, and the abyss that formed in her mind was too terrifying to contemplate.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a cat. Not just any cat either; the markings around the eyes gave it away as McGonagall’s cat form. It looked in Lori’s direction and blinked briefly before turning towards a different shadowy corner, hiding so well even Lori’s enhanced senses couldn’t make her out.

They did let her know the moment the door to Slytherin opened, though. She didn’t see anything come through before it closed again, but she did catch the unmistakable scent of Raphael Maledicta. Following him by scent alone would be imprecise at best, and with McGonagall about perhaps she shouldn’t bother. She backed deeper into the shadows and waited.

"Axio amiculum obscuratio!" Professor McGonagall yelled, appearing in human form out of her shadowy corner and flourishing her wand. Raphael Maledicta also appeared very suddenly out of nowhere, but with considerably less grace. McGonagall continued in a more measured tone, "Going somewhere Mr Maledicta?"

"Er, what? How did you…?"

McGonagall held up the silvery folds of Maledicta’s invisibility cloak, now folded across her left arm. "Axio is most effective when the spell is spoken entirely in Latin, Mr Maledicta.” She gave a meaningful glance over towards Lori’s hiding place. “Calling for something which is your own, you can afford to be a little sloppy, but not if you are after an item that belongs to someone else, especially if it is magical. Amiculum obscuratio translates as invisibility cloak, or near enough.

“I would have hoped from our previous encounter that you might have learnt, items such as this are generally not permitted at Hogwarts. Certainly not without my prior knowledge and consent, and most assuredly not when they are used for theft."

"That is an outrageous accusation!" Maledicta said, perhaps not quite convincingly enough. "Theft of what?"

"Why don't we discuss that in my office. While we’re at it, you might indulge me by explaining what you think you’re doing outside your common room in your nightwear.” Unsurprisingly this consisted of a black silk dressing gown over black silk pyjamas. “After you, Mr Maledicta." McGonagall followed her prisoner towards the steps leading to the castle's ground floor and above.

It seemed evident that Raphael had been heading deeper into the dungeons, which meant he was almost certainly after the stone box and expected to find it in the same place. As for what McGonagall had said, the box was definitely magical and just as definitely not hers. She speculated that the words might have been intended for her, meaning it would be worth finding out what to call it in Latin just in case?

The classrooms all had English to Latin dictionaries and Mugglewump’s wasn’t too far away. Her cat ears informed her the coast was clear so she snuck in. A couple of minutes scanning through the dictionary told her the closest she could come to Bloodstone was sanguinum lapis and while there were several options for box, the most likely was either arca or capsa with cista coming a close third.

Lori slipped out of the classroom and made her way stealthily down into the dungeons. Her cat senses meant she could navigate the darkness with ease. Locked doors gave way to a whispered alohomora, and the one time Filch’s ghost came drifting through the walls, she felt her hackles rise seconds before, giving her just enough time to find a deep shadow to hide in before he made his appearance.

The problem was the wall he had drifted through led to the room with the box in it, and he had just gone back in.

She eased the door open a narrow crack and peered in through the gap. Filch was standing guard in front of the box and the ghostly form of his cat lay curled around it.

She left the door ajar, hoping she’d allowed a sufficiently large gap for the box to fit through. Retreating to her shadowy hiding place, she withdrew her wand and whispered, “Axio sanguinum lapis arca.”

Mrs Norris let out a decidedly feline squeal as the box lifted up and through her. Filch spun on the spot, trying to figure out what was happening. The box whizzed through the gap in the door while he was still spinning and flew straight into Lori’s hands, disappearing into the shadows a fraction of a second before Filch’s bandy legged gait brought him running through the wall.

“I know you’re there,” He shouted. “I’ll catch you, you’ll see.” He ran down the only corridor leading from the room. Mrs Norris’s face appeared in the gap in the door. She looked straight at Lori for a second then padded off down the corridor after the former caretaker.

Lori, breathing a sigh of relief, wondered if Filch’s evil cat had mistaken her for one of her own kind. She couldn’t really risk following them; the devious old ghost had a reputation for waiting inside the walls ready to pounce. Cold and damp as her hiding place was, she’d have to wait him out, either till he came back or until she estimated the new day had arrived and she had to move.

She was cold, much colder than she had ever been in her own body. She suspected it had something to do with Morgana’s slender frame having not the least amount of fat. It didn’t have much of anything in fact, which meant the cold went directly to her bones.

Looking for something to pass the time, she examined the box. It was heavy, like Raphael had said, and something of an awkward size and shape. It looked entirely ordinary, grey in colour and roughly cut. The metal bands around it that held the hinges were of brass, and as she’d spotted before, the one across the top bore the inscription ‘Blutstein’ in some archaic, germanic script.

‘So what does that make you Mr Ekrizdis?’ Lori thought, clenching her teeth to stop them chattering. ‘German? Austrian? Something from that part of the world certainly.’

It was no good. She couldn’t stay still any longer. If she didn’t move soon, she’d turn into an icicle. She made her way down the corridor as swiftly and silently as she could, trusting her cat instincts to warn her if Filch was near.

It didn’t work. She’d about reached the stairs up to the kitchen corridor when a ghostly form leapt out of the wall crying, “Gotcha, you filthy little… What the…?”

Filch’s arms went around her and through her. She stumbled through them feeling a deathly chill where they touched. She turned to look into Filch’s alarmed face.

“What are you?” He shouted.

It wouldn’t do to be standing here still when someone with corporeal arms responded to Filch’s noise. She ran for the stairs and up them with the old caretaker running close behind, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Lori leapt up stairs three at a time until she had no idea how high she’d come. Behind her, Filch wheezed along, asthmatic even in the afterlife, and fell behind. Lori searched for somewhere to hide, anywhere, though preferably somewhere with a warm bath and fresh clothes and…

Beside her the bricks rearrange themselves, transforming into a powder blue door with a familiar sign over the top. Well this time she definitely qualified. She ducked inside and closed the door behind her.

“Finite incantatem,” Lori said and felt her face rearrange. There was steam in the room which she found, after a quick search, emanating from a claw foot bath, two thirds filled with fragrant hot water. She needed no more invitation, stripped off her damp things and climbed in.

It was hot enough to hurt, but that didn’t stop her. If anything, being on the edge of pain made the experience more exquisite. She carefully arranged her hair to keep it out of the water and allowed herself to drowse as the floral scent entered her nostrils.

She woke to the sound of a quiet bell chiming. The water had cooled as it warmed her up and was just at the point of doing the opposite. She pulled herself out of the tub and a hovering towel wrapped itself around her. Her clothes lay on a chair, freshly laundered and pressed.

“Well, at least you’re really a girl.”

Lori spun to find the room completely changed. The bath had gone, as had the steam. What remained was a full-length mirror hanging from the wall and in it was the woman with the flame red hair.

“Actually, we’ve met before. I’m just borrowing someone else’s body.”

“Oh!” The syllable dripped with sudden distain. “So, you’ve found a way to belong here, have you?”

“This is temporary,” she replied politely. “Polyjuice potion only lasts a few hours. I’ll be changing back soon.” Lori changed the topic. “Why do I need you?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“This is the Room of Requirement. It’s supposed to give me what I need, and you’ve appeared to me twice. Why do I need you?”

“Maybe you need someone to tell you that you can’t be a girl.”

“No, I don’t think so. I know I am a girl where it matters. I rode a unicorn.”

“Yes, that other woman told me. Maybe it didn’t know…”

“She knew; the unicorn knew. I made sure. She knelt in front of me, and I asked if she was certain. She knew.”

“It still doesn’t prove anything…”

“Actually, it does, and the fact that you refuse to accept that tells me you don’t know what you’re talking about, or maybe you’re afraid to admit the truth.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand…”

“Well, there again you’re wrong. I mean like you say, I’ve found a way to belong, if only for a short while, and even though I’ve only spent a few short hours as an actual girl, I can imagine what it’s like when someone you care about, someone you thought cared about you, treats you like you’re worth nothing. I have a sense for how much it hurts, how helpless you feel, how tempting it is just to shut it all out along with everything else that reminds you of how bad it makes you feel.

“My great grandfather had a great love for creatures, especially magical ones. A lot of people used to think he was mad because so many of the creatures he cared for had a reputation for being violent and dangerous. My dad told me once that probably the single most impressionable thing his granddad said to him was, ‘before you have the right to pass judgement on any living thing, you must first spend a day inside its skin.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Last time we spoke you said you were sympathetic to people like me, but what do you really know about what it feels like to be me? You say that I’m not a real girl, that you don’t mind if I put on a dress, but I shouldn’t pretend to be something I’m not, but you don’t even stop to think how that makes me feel.

“I’ve spent most of my life believing the world was filled with people like you. Up until a few months ago I lived my life trying to be the person I appeared to be on the outside, but the only way I could do that was by shutting the real me away and pretending. It’s like wearing a pair of shoes that are a couple of sizes too small. They’re a bit uncomfortable at first, but you think you can get by, then the more you wear them, the more they hurt, and the more they hurt, the more even the thought of putting them on makes you want to scream.

“Until a few months ago, all I tried to do was be the person I believed people thought I ought to be, the sort of person that most people who look like me actually are. Until a few months ago I was so worried about the way people might react if I allowed the inner me out, that I kept her locked inside and tried to ignore her misery. I did it because people like you tell the world that people like me are wrong and we shouldn’t be allowed. I did it because I thought that everyone I knew and cared about felt the same way. Until a few months ago all I had to look forward to was a sort of half-life stuck between two worlds — a caterpillar that’s been told it can never be a butterfly.

“Then when I came here things changed. I didn’t have much of a choice about how they changed, but I found that a lot of what I thought was true, about the way my friends and family would react, was rubbish. The sorts of things people like you say are wrong, and you don’t even realise it because you’re so caught up in your own problems that you don’t take the time to imagine what it must be like to be someone like me.

“Like I said earlier, I’ve spent most of a day in the body of a girl. The feelings are a bit more intense and there are some obvious physical differences, but I don’t feel any more a girl for being like I am right now than I did before I took the polyjuice potion. You say that to be a girl you have to have been born with a girl’s body. I believe that where you are really a girl or a boy is in your heart and soul, and above all your mind.

“I suppose I should thank you for challenging my beliefs. You’ve made me think about them quite deeply, and maybe that’s what I needed and what you provided. I don’t think you can help me anymore, at least not until you’re prepared to question your own beliefs. If ever you are and would like to talk about it, I’ll be waiting on this side of the mirror.”

The woman faded from view leaving the tall, gaunt reflection of Morgana Mulrose. Lori turned away…

… to find the room changed again. This time it looked like a cosy room with a fireplace and wingback armchair. Books lined the walls and, looking a little out of place in one corner, stood the Mirror of Erised.

Lori wasn’t scared of it anymore. If anything, she was curious to see what would look back at her from its surface. She stepped in front of the mirror and saw Morgana Mulrose looking back with an uncharacteristic smile. Beside her Hortensia Skunk stood with her arm around Morgana’s waist and her head leaning on her shoulder. What she saw made Lori smile.

It didn’t last though. The same uncomfortable feeling that had accompanied her transformation into Morgana chose that moment to reappear. She managed to loosen the towels around her before her shorter but broader body reasserted itself.

Once it had, she turned back to the mirror where the pretty little girl version of herself looking back, also wrapped in towels. Lori smiled and the girl smiled back.

“I will find a way to be you one day,” she said quietly.

The girl in the mirror nodded and pointed behind herself at a bookshelf. Lori matched her steps as she walked back to it. Her reflection pointed at the second shelf from the top— a bit of a stretch for her small body, but within easy range of Lori’s slightly taller frame. She counted two books, three, no four books in from the end and pulled down two slim volumes. They were both covered in dust and one in particular definitely appeared to have seen better days.

Lori turned and found the exact same volumes on her own shelf. She removed them and turned back to the mirror. Girl Lori sat in the armchair, her legs dangling over the edge. The tattier of the two volumes lay on the table beside her and she was avidly reading the other.

Lori followed her reflection and sat. The tatty volume went to one side, and she read the cover of the remaining book.

“You and Your Patronus,” she read and opened the cover.

-oOo-

A ray of early morning sunshine roused her. She’d fallen asleep in the armchair with the book less than half read. Her girl self, still wrapped in towels, was standing close to the mirror holding the book open. She approached and tried to read, but the words were all backwards. She managed to decipher the page number and looked it up in her own copy.

“Arresto patronum,” she read out loud. “How to make your Patronus stop.”

The girl in the mirror nodded, smiling encouragingly. She had such a pretty smile it made Lori ache. She flipped through to just past the halfway point and turned the book again.

Once more Lori worked out the page number and looked it up in her own copy.

“Patronum invenire. Instruct your Patronus to seek out something hidden.”

Once more that pretty smile. She turned three more pages and showed the book again.

Lori looked up the third spell. “Patronum maximus. A spell of last resort. May I take this?”

The girl nodded, then tapped on the mirror as Lori turned towards the door. She pointed at Lori who looked down to find herself still wrapped in towels too. She searched for her bag and took her clothes from it, dressing quickly and putting Morgana’s in the bag. Again she turned towards the door and again was stopped by a tapping on the glass. This time the girl pointed at the tatty book she’d left on the table.

Lori picked it up and examined it. The cover was of roughly cured leather and blank. She opened it to a random page and found it filled with untidy handwriting — cramped and angular. It would take more time than she had right now to decipher. Sunrise in the Highlands in January meant she was already late for breakfast.

She thanked her reflection and made her way back through the door. Behind her the bricks rearranged themselves as she hurried down the stairs. Halfway down she passed Professor Mugglewump and Filch’s ghost going the other way. Filch was explaining in great depth what he had encountered the previous night. They ignored her.

Once in the Great Hall she spotted Hortensia sitting apart from the others with a dreamy look on her face. She went to join her, filling her plate with toast and jam as an overwhelming hunger took her.

“You look like you had a good night,” Lori said around a crunchy mouthful.

Hortensia nodded and indicated the Slytherin table where Morgana Mulrose sat in her usual spot, book in front of her, but eyes unfocused and a hint of a smile playing about her lips.

Lori didn’t have time to ask any more questions as Professor McGonagall took her place behind the lectern.

“Good morning everyone,” she announced as soon as the hall quieted. “There’s not a great deal of news to report today. I imagine some of you have already tried writing to your parents and will be aware that none of the owls currently in the owlery is willing to fly into the mist. Nor have there been any owls newly come into Hogwarts from the outside since school started. This has disappointed some of you, I know, but owls are known for their wisdom and I think we can take it as wise counsel that the mist is to be avoided.

“Our communication has not been completely cut off though. The Minister for Magic fire-talked with me last night and I have appraised him of our situation. The ministry has specialists surrounding the mist on the outside and Mr Shacklebolt assures me that he has his best people looking for a way to dispel it. He has instructed me,” she pursed her lips, biting down on her opinion of what she thought about the minister’s instructions, “to do nothing for the time being that might interfere with their efforts. Given the difficulty in communicating, he feels it would be counter-productive for us to seek a solution from the inside while they are doing the same from the outside. We are to sit tight and wait for them to find a way to us.

“So once again we shall arrange for you to take lessons in the morning and take part in a defensive spells practice session in the afternoon. As was the case yesterday, Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and Longbottom will be assisting Madam Pomfrey care for the sick. On that matter I am pleased to announce that there have been no new students succumb to the illness in the last twenty-four hours, and those already under Madam Pomfrey’s care are stabilised, more or less.

“Once again I will ask that students refrain from attempting to visit their friends in either the infirmary or the nursing stations set up in the dormitories. If you wish to help, you should leave your name in the box by the door and a member of the faculty will find you. Please be patient with us as I imagine there will be fewer teachers than volunteers and it will take us a while to get to you all.

“In the meantime, this morning the classes will be divided as follows. First lesson Gryffindor and Ravenclaw will spend with me looking at transfiguration while Hufflepuff and Slytherin will practice low level flying with Madam Hooch.”

“How come we get stuck with the Dufflepuffs again?” Hannah asked from the Slytherin table behind her.

“Miss Nagron, I would thank you to be more respectful towards your fellow students. Though to answer your question, it evens out class sizes since Hufflepuff have most students in the infirmary and Slytherin the fewest.

“One last announcement. There will be short service to commemorate Miss Mitchell shortly before this afternoon’s sessions. Those wishing to attend should come to the training ground fifteen minutes before the afternoon sessions are due to start.”

With the announcement over, Lori turned back to her friend whose grin widened just a little.

“After you left, I dressed Morgana in her clothes and sat her in the same seat she’d been using when we were in Binns’ lesson. When she woke up, I was all apologetic about what I’d done. I owned up to giving her a sleeping draught, but only so I had a chance to talk with her alone. I told her I must have overdone it because she slept all the way through till about four in the morning, maybe something to do with her being so thin, and I told her I fancied her.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did, because I realised yesterday after talking to you that I do. It turns out she’s kind of into me too. We spent the rest of the morning chatting and getting to know each other, then we came here for breakfast. We’re meeting up later to explore things a little further.”

“I’m happy for you. You told her about the detention?”

“Yeah. I told her I’d come with and maybe see if Mugglewump lets us off a little time if we show we’ve made up.”

“God luck with that!”

“Maybe, but at least we get to spend lunch together, even if Mugglewump has us checking inventory like he had me doing yesterday.”

“Any idea how I’m going to get these back to her?” Lori opened her bag to show Morgana’s clothes.

“Just drop them in the laundry. The house elves will sort them out.”

“Even the shoes?”

“They get chucked in all the time. Sometimes by accident, sometimes not.”

“Mum used to say her shoes went missing. Didn’t bother her much; she preferred going barefoot. Okay, I’m going to go do that now, then maybe practice my Patronus for a while. See you in Hooch’s class.”

Lori left, watching her friend exchange a dreamy glance with Morgana. Raphael was in for a major disappointment sometime soon.

Once Lori had dealt with Morgana’s clothes, she headed for Binns’ class where she pulled the Patronus book out of her bag and got to work. She practised casting expecto patronum and arresto patronum in quick succession until she’d mastered bringing the unicorn out and stopping it before it could chase off through the wall. Then ten minutes before the flying class was due to start, she hid the Bloodstone casket under Binns’ desk, brought out her Patronus and commanded it, “Patronum invenire sanguinum lapis arca.” A swish of her wand and an instant later the unicorn was standing knee deep in Binns’ desk, directly over the box.

It was enough. She dismissed the Patronus and turned to the last spell her mirror-self had shown her. It started off by saying, ‘Do not cast this spell unless you absolutely have to.’ She read through the stance and movements and practised them without speaking the words. It was as much as she could do, and she hoped she wouldn’t need it. She was about as ready as she could be.

She slipped out of the History of Magic class and joined the rest of Slytherin and Hufflepuff heading for the courtyard.

A strong hand caught hold of her left arm. “What did you tell her, freak?” Raphael hissed into her ear.

She tried stopping but Raph was that little bit stronger and bulkier than her so pulled her along without difficulty.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responded. She tried to sound affronted, but she was scared and could hear it in her own voice.

“It had to be you,” he hissed. “It was you last time, so it has to be you this time.” He tried pulling her down a side corridor.

She drew her wand. “Relashio!” she snapped, and he spun away from her, landing a few feet down the corridor on his backside.

He climbed to his feet, shaking his hand to regain some feeling. The look in his eyes was pure murder.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. “I don’t know what you’re up to and I don’t want to know. Now leave me alone!”

He moved in close, and she couldn’t help flinching. “So how come McGonagall was waiting for me outside the Slytherin common room last night?”

“At a guess you must have done something to tip her off. I certainly had nothing to do with it.” She turned and stalked away, keeping her wand at the ready.

He caught her up, glanced at the wand and decided not to chance his luck. “So how come you weren’t in your dorm last night?”

“How would you know that?”

“I heard Sprout talking about it to McGonagall. You and that Skunk girl, she said. You had to have something to do with it.”

“Look, I still have no idea what you’re talking about. As for Hortensia and me, mind your own business.”

She increased her pace and merged with a group of Hufflepuff girls, one of whom asked her how long she’d been able to cast a Patronus. Raphael stood fuming, choosing not to give chase.

Raph did as he’d been told and kept as far away from Lori as he could during flying practice. It helped that the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins naturally kept to themselves. Beyond that the class was as much of a non-event as usual.

She found a quiet corner during break and continued to study the Patronus book. There were all sorts of spells. A spell to make your Patronus carry a message, a spell to leave it guarding something or someone, a spell to combine your Patronus with someone else’s to make them both stronger. They were all way out of her league, especially the last one, and she was only too happy to have had the less complicated and more useful ones pointed out to her.

When the Clock-tower bell tolled, she joined Hortensia for the short trip to transfiguration class.

“Good morning class,” McGonagall started. “Today I’m going to introduce you to one of my favourite spells.” She pulled out her wand and traced a complicated pattern with it. “Avis,” she said quite firmly and with a loud bang, a spray of tiny, colourful birds emerged from the tip and flew about the room for half a minute before disappearing in multiple puffs of feathers.

Milicent Lattimer raised a tentative hand. “Professor, we haven’t done that much actual magic with Miss Mitchell. It’s all been theory, sort of.”

“Then it’s high time you did a little practical, don’t you think? As an added incentive, I’ll award ten house points each to the first five people to succeed. Now watch again as I go through the motions a little slower.”

Flushed with her recent success with the various Patronus charms, Lori threw herself into the lesson with all her mind and succeeded in being the first to cast the spell.

“Congratulations Lori Scamander,” Professor McGonagall beamed down at her. “Ten points to Hufflepuff, and on an unrelated matter,” her face turned stern, “I would very much like to see you at the end of the lesson if you don’t mind, so please be sure to stay back, won’t you?”

Girls’ Changing Room – Chapter 9 – The situation gets worse by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	Chapter 9 marks halfway through the story. Hold onto your seats folks.

-oOo-
“You wanted to see me professor.” Lori approached McGonagall’s desk as the rest of the class filed out for lunch.

Once the classroom was empty, McGonagall gave Lori a proper stare. “I’m glad to see you back to your usual self, Lori,” she said.

“Er, professor?”

“Do not take me for a fool Miss Scamander. I am Head Mistress of this school and very much aware of what goes on within its walls. My staff keeps me informed of pertinent information, so Professor Longbottom was good enough to tell me when he traded a flask of polyjuice potion with Miss Peasbottom, understanding that it was to be a Christmas present to you. Also Professor Mugglewump informed me of an altercation between Miss Skunk and Miss Mulrose yesterday along with Miss Mulrose’s unexpected absence from detention yesterday lunchtime.

“Now, whilst I’ll agree that such circumstantial evidence is not sufficient to draw firm conclusions, I do recall seeing a person of Miss Mulrose’s stature hiding in the shadows outside the Slytherin common room last night, only she had a somewhat feline aspect, and I know of only one person in this school to whom I have taught that particular spell. Add to that your somewhat miraculous ability to produce two very different Patronuses on the same day, I find myself doing some rudimentary mathematics and reaching the answer one might expect. The answer to two plus two is four, is it not Miss Scamander?”

“Er, yes professor.”

“Now, I’m not entirely sure what you’ve been up to over the past few hours, nor why you would choose to spend that time in Morgana Mulrose’s skin. However, from my observations this morning she seems none the worse for whatever ordeal you may have put her through and has apparently even reached an accommodation with your newest room mate, so I’m not inclined to tickle that particular sleeping dragon at present. I do, however, think it is important that we two understand one another on this matter. Do we understand each other Lori?”

“Yes professor.” Lori stared at her feet.

“I seem to remember promising you twenty-five house points for each student who successfully learnt the Patronus charm from you. Under the circumstances, it seems only fair that your brother should earn one hundred and fifty points for Ravenclaw for his quite exemplary teaching yesterday, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes professor.”

“You will, of course, be awarded twenty-five points for teaching him the Patronus charm in the first place.”

“Thank you professor. Were we that obvious?”

“Not at all. I’ll thank you to keep this to yourself, but your brother makes just as fetching a young lady as you do, however you should know that each full Patronus is unique to the person casting it. If Lysander had continued producing non-corporeal Patronuses as he did in the beginning, I would not have been so certain, but then he formed that magnificent phoenix. I’ll grant it has been known for someone’s Patronus to change form, but only after going through some life changing experience. Whilst I am aware that both Professor Mugglewump’s and Professor Binns’ teaching methods can be somewhat traumatic, I do not believe they count in this regard.

“Now that we have that out of the way, I’d like to return this to you.” She reached under the desk and brought out a cloak. It was as finely woven as the one Maledicta had destroyed and the lining shone silver.

“Professor McGonagall, I don’t know what to say! I thought it was beyond repair.”

“It was. This is not that cloak. However, the person who destroyed it was good enough to furnish me with the means to replace it. As before, I’m happier that it should be in your hands than his. Do you have any idea how he obtained the first one?”

“I do professor, and it won’t happen again.”

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips momentarily to hide the smile she found growing there. “I hope Miss Skunk appreciates how true a friend she has in you Lori. Perhaps she may learn the advantages of belonging to Hufflepuff at last. Very well, if you’re inclined to trust her, then I shall defer to your judgement in the matter.

“There is one more matter I would like to raise with you if you’re not too desperate to have your lunch.” Lori shook her head which Minerva took as permission to continue. “In my fire-talk with Minister Shacklebolt last night he expressed an interest in the box that once contained the Bloodstone. He felt that something could be learnt from dismantling the charms on it and he has instructed me to do just that.”

Lori felt herself go cold. “That doesn’t seem like a good idea professor. What if the box is the only way to control the stone?”

“I am of a similar mind Lori, and I told him as much last night. However, the Minister for Magic does have emergency powers during a crisis such as this present one and I am not at liberty to refuse him. Unfortunately — for the minister — the box was stolen last night; taken from under the nose of Mr Filch who I had charged with guarding it. For as long as I do not know where it is, I am justifiably unable to comply with his instructions.

“What concerns me though, is that the thief might have a mind to take the box into the mist in a misguided attempt to bring this crisis to an end.”

“Professor?”

“You were present this morning when I announced to the school that Minister Shacklebolt gave me explicit instructions not to attempt anything to dispel the mist.”

“Yes professor, but do they know what they’re dealing with?”

“They know everything I do Lori. Whether they know more remains to be seen.”

“But professor…”

“No buts young lady. You will, I hope, also recall my warning from yesterday that any student caught entering the mist will be dealt with most severely.”

“Yes professor.”

“It’s for the best, Lori. The Dark Forest is dangerous at the best of times, and these are certainly not those. Even with an invisibility cloak I’d not be inclined to venture in there myself right now.”

“Yes professor.” She turned to leave.

“Lori?”

“Yes professor?”

“I want you to take me seriously on this. You may be able to produce a Patronus in the safety of the school grounds, but it’s a lot harder to do so when you’re faced by a Dementor, and if you go into that mist you are likely to meet considerably more than just one. In full daylight they’re lethargic and may pass you by as long as you keep your feelings under control, but that invisibility cloak won’t hide you from them. What’s more, the deeper you might travel into the forest, the darker it will become and in the dark the Dementors will be a lot more dangerous — more alert, more aggressive, more able to sense your emotions. It’s not a place for a first year student Lori.”

“Yes professor.” She turned again, paused and looked back. “Professor…”

“What is it Lori?” .

Lori saw the exhaustion on McGonagall’s face and hesitated.

“Go and have some lunch, Lori, and get ready for this afternoon. Let’s see if you have your brother’s gift for teaching.”

Lori’s growling stomach decided this was a good idea. There would be better times to approach the professor. She headed for the Great Hall.

-oOo-

With her stomach filled, she headed out to the courtyard. She walked past the broken fountain to the beginning of the covered bridge. It was cold, but her new cloak kept most of the day’s chill at bay. The view from the bridge into the gorge was less spectacular than usual. No more than twenty feet away, the mist sliced the bridge in two, curling underneath the supports and hiding the depths below in a milky haze.

Lori spotted something partially obscured by the mist just at the point where it began, and headed towards it to try and see what it was. As she approached she made out what looked like a large pile of of old clothes, which rather unexpectedly climbed to its feet.

“Don’t come no closer,” Hagrid called. “Oh, hello Lori. What’re you doing out here.”

“I was looking for a little peace and quiet,” Lori called back across the few feet that separated them. “I saw you sitting there and wondered if you were all right.” Not quite the truth, but certainly kinder.

Hagrid closed much of the space separating them. “Oh I’m fine,” he said. “The cold don’t affect me none.”

“It must be hard not being able to get to your home though.”

“Oh, tha’ don’t bother me none. Got me a comfy enough place to sleep in the Great Hall, and there ain’t a lot for me to do right now, so I don’t need to get at my stuff.”

“Even so…”

“Well, th’ hardest thing is keeping busy. I mean I gets to patrol around th’ castle between lessons but, well I feel so… useless. All them poor critters in th’ lake and forest having to contend with this mist and th’ Dementors an’ all, and here’s me stuck here where I can’t do nothing to help.”

“I feel the same way about my friend Anneka and all the other students in the infirmary. I just wish there was something I could do.”

“I’m sure you done plenty. I hear you can cast a Patronus now. That’s something that is. Even Harry Potter didn’t master that till his third year. Would you mind showing me?”

Lori smiled and lined herself up. She wasn’t so far from where her father had spoken to her of his love and acceptance and the memories came easily. She sent the spectral unicorn running across the bridge. From the brilliant light it gave off they could still see it half a mile into the mist.

“Aw, that’s a beaut that is. An’ a unicorn too. Powerful Patronus that Lori. I wanna thank you for that. It’s proper lifted my mood.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t spend so much time sitting right next to a mist full of Dementors then you stupid old lumox.” Professor Sprout said from right behind Lori, making her jump. “I hope that thing doesn’t make it through to the other side of the forest. I don’t know what Shacklebolt would say after telling Professor McGonagall not to try anything.”

“Do you think it will?” Lori asked. “I didn’t think. Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Sprout offered up her wrinkled smile. “I seriously doubt it’ll make it that far, but I’d pay a few galleons to see the looks on those ministry men’s faces if it did.

“Anyway, we’re about ready for Miss Mitchell’s memorial. Hagrid, why don’t you join us? I’m sure the bridge will look after itself for a few short minutes.”

-oOo-

The commemoration was a simple affair, conducted in the larger courtyard near Merlin’s Gate, out where the flying lessons took place. The pale body of the young teacher had been dressed in a simple white shift and lay in an open coffin, which in turn lay on top of an open carriage.

“Please gather round everyone,” Professor McGonagall said, attracting the attention of the small crowd. All the teachers were present along with a fair proportion of the student body with roughly equal numbers represented from each of the houses. McGonagall addressed her words to the students in particular. “I am touched to see so many of you come to pay your last respects to a teacher you have known for such a short time. Considering how many students are currently in the infirmary, your numbers speak eloquently of the high regard you all had for Miss Mitchell.

“In a moment, I shall invite you all to approach the coffin where I will say a few words. I will insist that you all to stay away from the front of the carriage, and fair warning, it is quite likely that you will see something unusual and a little unsettling appear there. It is nothing to be alarmed about and you are in no danger. I’ll be quite happy to explain to anyone who requests it after we have said out farewells to Miss Mitchell. Now if you’ll gather round…”

Lori had caught sight of her brother and moved to join him. Together they approached the carriage and looked in on the mortal remains of Hogwarts’ youngest teacher.

“What do you think the unsettling bit is going to be?” Lye whispered. “Maybe her ghost decided to stay?”

“Actually, I think it’s more likely to be that.” Lori nodded towards the front of the carriage where a single dark creature stood. It looked like an emaciated horse, nothing more than skin stretched over a skeleton, but with large bat-like wings.

“Oh, of course. Thestral. They don't look as scary as I imagined after Mum's description."

Lori’s agreed. He thought back to the first day of school when her mother had taken them to see the thestral herd. Even though they’d not been able to see them back then, she’d described them accurately enough that their first sight of one wasn’t the least bit unnerving for her or her brother.

The same couldn’t be said for many of their schoolmates though. Lori recalled the incident with the two girls at the beginning of term and looked around to see if they were present. They weren’t, but the expressions on many of the faces about her looked quite similar.

“You can see why people freak out over them, can’t you?” Lysander added.

“Mum said they were really gentle when you got to know them. Shows you can’t judge someone by what they look like.”

“I guess you’d know about that more than most.”

McGonagall looked about her and the general chatter that had picked up as the thestral became visible died down. She spoke a few words which were well meant but unmemorable, then sent the thestral and its burden off through the gate and into the mist.

A fair number of the students turned to Professor McGonagall for the promised explanation. Meanwhile, Professor Sprout caught Lori’s eye and waved her over, just as Professor Flitwick did the same to her brother.

“Catch you in a little while,” Lysander said and went to talk to his head of house.

“Will it be all-right?” Lori asked “The thestral I mean, in the mist.”

“The herd lives in the forest Lori. They’ve continued to live there all the while the mist has been here and it doesn’t seem to bother them. They are extremely magical creatures, so that doesn’t surprise me in the least, though I’m less certain why the Dementors don’t seem to cause them any grief.

“Anyway, are you ready for what’s coming next? I was hoping you might win a few house points for Hufflepuff? I have a wager with Professor Flitwick that you’ll outshine your brother today.”

“I hope you didn’t bet too much professor; my brother is a really good teacher.”

“I know. I was here yesterday.”

“Oh no! Does everyone know Lysander put on my skirt and pretended to be me?”

“What? I didn’t know that!” said Hagrid who was standing nearby.

“Please keep it to yourself or he’ll kill me.”

“The staff aren’t saying anything Lori,” Professor Sprout reassured her, “but you have to realise that every one of us who saw you produce that unicorn yesterday morning would have figured out what was going on the moment Lysander let loose that lovely phoenix of his. I imagine some of the older students will work it out this afternoon too.” Professor Sprout chuckled. “If he wants to keep it to himself he’s going to have to swap clothes with you for this afternoon’s session as well.”

“I’d better go and talk to him.”

“Of course dear. Go have some fun.”

“What about your wager?”

“Lori, that’s the last thing you should be worried about. Relax and enjoy yourself”

Lori wandered across to her brother, feeling more than a little bothered.

“Hey Lye,” she said.

“Hey Lori,” he replied. “Don’t look so worried. You’ll do fine.”

“You do know what’s going to happen when they see the two of us produce Patronuses out there don’t you?

“Professor Flitwick did mention it, yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey it’s all good.”

“We can tell them I panicked. I’ve been worried about Anneka and the thought of going out in front of everyone was too much. That you only did it for me. I mean that part’s true anyway.”

“No, let’s not tell them anything. I’d rather not have it sound like we’re making excuses. If anyone does ask, you can say you asked me to cover for you if you really want to, but it doesn’t really matter. What say we give them a bit of a show?”

“What d’you have in mind?”

He whispered into her ear. She smiled and nodded, then gave him a hug and peck on the cheek.

“Sorry,” she said. “Kind of felt right. Hope it wasn’t too weird for you.”

He smiled and kissed her back on her cheek. “About as weird as that. Come on, let’s show them how Scamander’s roll.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her forward in front of the gathering crowd of students. “Hello Hogwarts,” he shouted, stepping in front of Professor McGonagall. “I’m Lye Scamander and this is my identical twin sister Lori. We’re here to teach you to do this.”

Together they swept their wands into the newly familiar pattern. At the last moment they crossed wands and shouted in perfect unison, “Expecto patronum!”

It was a whole new best memory for both of them, standing in front of everyone and declaring their unity. Lori’s unicorn leapt out in front of her brother and reared while his phoenix swept around across her field of vision, circled just above her head and flew low over her unicorn as the two Patronuses charged forward.

“Lye!” she shouted. There were times when their twin connection clicked and this was one of them. She twisted her wand through a complicated shape she’d read earlier in the day, Lysander following exactly, feeling her intent almost as though it were his own. Once more in unison they shouted, “Unesco patronum!”

The phoenix dropped a few feet and merged with the unicorn, growing as it did and transforming it into a giant horned Pegasus with flaming wings. It soared into the sky, circling above them, rising higher and higher, dispelling the mist until a circle of blue appeared above their heads.

The whole school cheered. Lye and Lori stared at each other, breathless with elation.

“Lori, what was that?” Lye asked.

“One of the most complicated spells you can possibly cast with a Patronus,” Professor McGonagall said looking severely at the two of them. “Also one of the most dangerous, and I’d like to know where the two of you learnt it.”

“It was all me professor,” Lori said. “I… It’s just that sometimes Lye and me, we have this thing where we are totally in sync. I only just read about that spell today and I had no intention of trying it, but then we clicked and I just knew it would work, so…”

“Minerva.” Professor Flitwick stood nearby surreptitiously pointing upwards.

They all followed his finger and saw three brooms descending through the hole in the mist. The lead was ridden by the distinctive figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

“Minister,” McGonagall called a greeting as he came in for a landing. “This is unexpected.”

“I thought I made myself quite clear, Minerva. You were not to attempt tackling the mist from inside Hogwarts.”

“There has been no such attempt minister. I…”

“What do you call that then?” He indicated the hole overhead, already noticeably smaller.

“That, I believe, was an accident, minister. I don’t know if you’ve already met Lori and Lysander Scamander. They are the youngest students at Hogwarts ever to produce a full Patronus, and just now they managed to combine them with the effect you just saw.”

“How on Earth…”

“Lori was just attempting to explain.” McGonagall looked expectantly at the young girl.

“Yes minister. It wasn’t planned…”

“Minister.” One of the two wizards who’d flown in with Kingsley pointed up at the shrinking circle of blue above them. “You should leave.”

“Whatever it was, young lady,” Shacklebolt turned his intense glare on Lori, “I do not want to see it repeated. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir, but…”

“There will be no arguments, Miss Scamander…”

“No sir, but do you have a plan, sir?”

“We’re working on it. Don’t worry, we’ll get you all out.”

“But the sick students sir…”

“Are receiving the best possible care. These two wizards are from St Mungo’s and have volunteered to stay and help Madam Pomfrey. Now your actions may have provided us with this brief window, but you must not attempt that spell again…”

“Minister!” The hole was almost closed.

“Professor McGonagall will explain why.” Then to McGonagall, “Sorry I can’t stay longer Minerva. It’s sheer luck that we were nearby when the hole opened up.” With that he launched his broom almost vertically upwards, disappearing through the hole in the mist just as it closed about him.

“Your explanation will have to wait, young lady. I need to see these two gentlemen to the infirmary, and you need to teach your classmates how to produce an ordinary Patronus. Lori, do you have any idea what might have happened if that spell had gone wrong?”

“I did read that bit professor. As I say, I had no intention of casting it, but then when our Patronuses came out together like that, I knew it would work. I wouldn’t have tried it if I hadn’t been absolutely certain…”

“Enough! Nothing fancy, understand? Well, I mean nothing more fancy than a straightforward Patronus which is quite impressive without the embellishments. You’ll be teaching separate groups, so you shouldn’t have any more opportunity for showing off. Now get on with you.”

The professor led away the two new arrivals and Professors Flitwick and Sprout organised two groups eager to have a go at producing a Patronus.

McGonagall needn’t have worried. Both Lori and Lysander were kept busy all afternoon and both had reached a point beyond exhaustion by the time the session reached its end. Lysander succeeded in teaching four more students to cast their own Patronuses, of which half were non-corporeal. Lori’s successes totalled seven with only three emerging without shape.

When the teachers finally announced the end of the day, the twins flopped down on the cold, stone-hard ground and leaned against each other’s backs.

“Well done Lori, a fair win.”

“Not so much. I doubt I’d have done as well if I’d spent all yesterday afternoon doing the same thing.”

“You still beat my first day’s score.”

“And you’re still ahead of me by three.”

“I never knew you were so competitive.”

“I’m not.” Lori sat away from her brother, which he anticipated. “I’m trying to show you that today was at least as much a win for you, if not more.”

“I’m too tired to argue with you. Join us on the Ravenclaw table for dinner?”

“I’d love to, but I’m guessing what’s left of Hufflepuff will want me to stay with them.”

“Fine. I plan to head for my bed as soon as I’m done eating, so catch up tomorrow?”

“You bet.”

-oOo-

The two doctors had insisted on a complete tour and had spent some time discussing Madam Pomfrey’s treatments, making their own suggestions. Professor McGonagall managed to steer them back to the Great Hall while dinner was still being served, but only just. By then both Lori and Lysander had gone to their beds. It would have been good to have that chat with the Scamanders, but the morning would be quite soon enough for the questions she had for them. The condition of the sick students had her worried, as did Madam Pomfrey’s report, but there was little enough she could do to change either. The best she could manage was to take advantage of the opportunity for an early night herself. She doubted she’d get much sleep, but at least it would be more restful than patrolling the castle.

Lori had trouble sleeping too. After tossing and turning for nearly an hour she gave up and climbed out of bed. Making sure she had her slippers and dressing gown on this time, she climbed onto her desk and stared out the window.

The moon was close to full, suffusing the mist with an opalescent glow. Within it she could see the dim shapes of Dementors colliding with the wards around the school. As before, with every impact a faint wisp of fog made it through and drifted towards the castle. Lori was tired, but she reached into her happy place and sent a whispered command to her Patronus, which obediently appeared and charged off into the mist, scattering shadowy figures in all directions.

Ten minutes later they were back, continuing their assault.

Lori readied her wand, but a hand touched her leg. She looked down to see Professor Sprout waving for her to follow.

“Lori, if it were as simple as that don’t you think we’d all be doing the same?” Sprout said once they’d reached the common room. “No witch or wizard alive could keep that up through the night.”

She led the young girl through to the common room and busied herself making two mugs of cocoa, one of which she passed across. “Here, this’ll help. I imagine you’ll feel a little drained even after casting it just the once. Don’t you remember how exhausted you and your brother felt when you’d finished an afternoon teaching it? Lori, I know you're worried for your friends, but there’s no sense in putting yourself in a bed next to them.”

“There must be something we can do. We can’t just sit around and watch.”

“We’re not, Lori. You heard the minister. They’re working on the problem.”

“What I heard was they don’t know what to do.”

“And there are a lot of them, all more experienced than you Lori. I’m sorry to put it this bluntly, but if they can’t figure out what to do, what makes you think you can?”

Lori had her legs tucked up close to her. She breathed in the restorative smell of her cocoa, then blew across it to cool it. “Didn’t Professor McGonagall say something about not underestimating students?”

Professor Sprout chuckled. “She did, and you really surprised us all with that Patronus of yours. Between you and me, I think Professor Mugglewump was a little jealous. This isn’t a matter of natural ability though Lori, and in situations such as this, nothing can replace the years of study and experience those men and women possess.”

Lori sipped at her drink and watched the fire. She considered telling the professor what she knew, but so far neither Professor McGonagall nor Minister Shacklebolt had taken her seriously enough to let her speak. What if Sprout was the same? Worse, what if she confiscated the stone chest and took it to McGonagall? As far as she was aware, it was the only way to stop this curse and she couldn’t afford to put it in the headmistress’s hands where she would be compelled to take it apart.

But that left her as the only way of making things right, and both Professors McGonagall and Sprout had made good points about her inexperience. If she were to venture into the dark forest and fail, then no-one would know about the chest. Worse, it would be lost in the mist.

She thought about asking McGonagall to confront Maledicta, but he would just deny it. There were rules about when veritaserum could be used which were much more restrictive when it came to students, so there would be no way to force the answer out of him.

Professor Sprout heaved herself out of her chair. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m heading for my bed. Don’t stay up too late now.”

She shuffled off to her bedroom leaving Lori to her private musings. More out of curiosity than any real expectation Lori pulled out her wand. “Axio sanguinum lapis,” she said quietly. She could think of all sorts of reasons why the spell might fail so she wasn’t disappointed when nothing happened. At least not too much.

She finished the last of her drink and headed for bed herself. Not only had the cocoa restored her spirit, it had also mellowed her mood. McGonagall would most likely call for a meeting with her and Lysander in the morning. Maybe she could ask about the stone box then, assuming she was awake enough to think. She cast one last worried look out the window and climbed into bed. Sleep followed close behind.

-oOo-

“Attention students.” It wasn’t McGonagall but Professor Flitwick standing on a stack of books who addressed the school from behind the lectern. His usually cheerful face was haggard, distressed, bordering on tearful. The hall fell silent without the usual whispers and murmurs trailing off. Lori felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “It is my very sad duty to inform you that, despite the very best efforts of Madam Pomfrey and the two Healers from St Mungo’s who arrived yesterday, last night two of your fellow students passed away in their sleep.”

A wave of gasps washed across the Great Hall.

“Their names,” Flitwick raised his voice above the commotion bringing it back to order, “are Gertie Warrington from Hufflepuff house and Marietta Lynch from Ravenclaw.”

Hortensia’s expression changed from shocked to stunned. Lori placed her hand on her friend’s arm.

“Gertie was one of my room-mates last term,” Hortensia whispered. “I wasn’t very nice to her.”

Lori squeezed gently. There wasn’t much else she could do. Flitwick cleared his throat.

“In addition to this, I am distressed to have to inform you that Professor McGonagall did not wake from her sleep this morning, and has also succumbed to the effects of the mist.”

The last few words of his announcement disappeared into the outcry that erupted from the student tables. Professor Flitwick stood composed and silent behind the lectern, waiting for order to reassert itself. It took several minutes.

“In light of these sad events,” he continued, “there will be no lessons today. Those of you who put your names forward to help yesterday, or who might wish to do so now, please remain in the hall after breakfast and the teachers will make their ways around to you. This is purely voluntary and if you would prefer not to help in this manner, please leave the Great Hall, however, you are still required to remain within the bounds of the castle. It is now more important than ever that none of you attempts to enter the mist.

“This is an awful day for the school. Not since the Battle of Hogwarts have we lost a student. If any of you wish to speak to a member of staff, please see your head of house.”

He clambered down from his perch and stepped away from the lectern. The hall immediately swelled with animated discussion.

Lori looked around her and caught sight of Professor Sprout busily organising an orderly cue from the Hufflepuff students, almost her entire house joining the line to speak with her. Professor Flitwick was doing the same on the Ravenclaw table but was considerably less inundated. Lori waited till he’d seen his last student and walked over to the Ravenclaw table.

“Miss Scamander,” the diminutive professor said as she approached. “Wouldn’t you rather speak to Professor Sprout? Ah, no, I see. Very well, do go ahead.”

“Professor, please, what happened to Professor McGonagall?”

“Er, I’m not sure it’s appropriate for me to speak with you about a member of staff…”

“Sir, she seemed fine yesterday. I mean she told me last term that her father was a Muggle, so I suppose it’s more surprising that she’s been all right this long.”

“She’s a very powerful witch, Lori. She has been casting her own protection spells, but evidently last night they weren’t enough.”

“I saw the Dementors attacking the barrier in force last night.”

“It’s possible that might be the cause of both Professor McGonagall’s illness and the two girls’ tragic deaths.”

“What can you tell me about the other sick students?”

“Erm, they’re receiving the best possible care, Lori. If you’d like to help I’m sure we could use…”

“No, it’s… It’s my friend Anneka. Anneka Peasbottom. She fell ill the first night back. I want to know if she’s getting better or worse.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know about any specific patient Lori. Your friend…”

“They’re all getting worse though, aren’t they? Last night when the Dementors attacked the barrier…”

“None of them got through, I can assure you…”

“But the mist did. Every time a Dementor hits the barrier a little more mist gets through. Gertie was Muggle-born, was Marietta as well?”

“Er, er…” The alarm in Flitwick’s face grew with each new statement, especially the last question.

“I suppose that’s enough of an answer. Thank you professor.” Lori stood and turned towards the exit.

“Lori…” Flitwick called after her, but a new group of Ravenclaw students chose that moment to approach. Lori made good her escape.

-oOo-

Professor Sprout saw Lori leave but, surrounded as she was by a crowd of distressed Hufflepuffs, she couldn’t follow immediately. It took her half an hour to settle them all, after which she set out in search of the young girl.

She didn’t relish the idea of searching the entire castle, not with her aching bones, but fortunately age had a tendency of offsetting fading strength with growing wisdom, so she was more relieved than surprised to find Lori in the first place she looked, sitting on the broken fountain by the clock-tower.

“Professor McGonagall mentioned that you’ve come here once or twice when you’ve been troubled,” she said, announcing her presence. “I don’t actually recall seeing you here in all the time I’ve known you, but here you are.”

The edge of the fountain was a little high for Pomona’s short legs and she didn’t have the energy to hop up beside the girl, so instead she leaned on the broken edge, arms locked, and gazed down at the fish swimming in the shallow water.

“Everything’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Lori murmured. “The students are getting worse and now Professor McGonagal…”

“Things often have to get worse before they get better,” Professor Sprout replied, “and you spoke to Minister Shacklebolt yesterday, didn’t you? You know the ministry are working on a solution.”

“But what if they don’t know what they’re doing? I mean the two doctors who came with the minister stayed, so you’d have thought the sick students would start getting better, wouldn’t you? Instead two of them are dead and now Professor McGonagall is sick.”

“Lori, if anyone knows how to solve this, it’s the ministry wizards. You have to give them a little time and have faith that they’ll sort things out.”

“What’s Mors Mundani?”

Professor Sprout knew her Latin as well as any of the professors at Hogwarts. She hadn’t heard the term used for anything specific before, but she knew what it meant. “Where did you hear that?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Lori shook her head dismissively. “I overheard Raphael Maledicta say it to Morgana Mulrose a couple of days ago,” she said. “Then he said something like, ‘First the mudbloods then the half-bloods.’”

“Did he say anything else that you recall?”

“He said it had something to do with the Bloodstone and the mist.”

“The Bloodstone…” Pomona pulled at her lower lip. “I can’t say I’ve heard of that either.”

“Professor McGonagall had. She showed me a picture of it in one of her books. I was watching when Raphael stole it last term. When he was talking to Morgana the other day, he said it was what caused the mist.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about this.”

“Professor McGonagall asked me to keep an eye on Raphael.”

“No dear, I think you’re mistaken. Minerva would never ask a student to do anything that might put them in harms way. Especially not a first year.”

Lori gave her head of house a sideways glance. She knew professor McGonagall had been head of Gryffindor before the duties of headmistress forced her to take a more impartial stand. Perhaps there was something in the house thing after all. Maybe the Gryffindor in McGonagall made her more inclined to make decisions involving risk, whereas the Hufflepuff in Professor Sprout meant she was more concerned about her charges’ well-being.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to keep talking about what she and the headmistress had been doing.

“I miss Anneka,” Lori said, changing the subject completely.

“I’m sure you do, dear.” Professor Sprout put a comforting hand on Lori’s shoulder.

“Isn’t there any way I could see her, just for a minute?”

“I’m sorry sweetheart. If I let you see your friend then everyone in the school would want permission to visit their sick friends. They need to rest and the doctors need peace and quite to work.”

“It would just make me feel so much better if I could see that she was all right.”

Pomona sighed deeply. “You’re putting me in a very difficult position Lori.” She paused and looked at the girl’s slumped shoulders, her tear streaked cheeks. “I probably shouldn’t do this — no, I definitely shouldn’t do this — but come with me.”

Lori’s eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "Thank you professor," she said.

"You'll thank me by not saying anything about this to anyone. If just one of your friends finds out there’ll be a stampede."

-oOo-

Back in the Hufflepuff common room, eighteen out of the twenty-five girls’ dormitories had signs hanging on the doors warning students not to disturb those within. Professor Sprout led Lori to a door almost opposite that of her own dorm and knocked gently.

A green robed wizard opened a door several doors down and looked across at them. “Professor Sprout,” the man said in mild surprise. “How my I help?”

“This is Lori Scamander,” the professor responded. “I’d like to her to be allowed to visit Anneka Peasbottom.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up. He glanced at Lori and back at the professor. “I suppose there’s no harm, as long as this is a one-off, but keep it short.”

“Much appreciated, doctor,” Professor Sprout said and pushed the door open. “You have ten minutes Lori, no longer.”

“Thank you,” Lori said and slipped into the room.

The place was unnaturally still, quiet despite the presence of a girl in each of the five beds. Lori spotted Anneka’s long blond hair at once and tiptoed over to her.

Her friend’s complexion was pale and her skin cold to the touch. If it hadn’t been for the shallow rise and fall of her chest, Lori might have suspected the worst. She brushed an errant lock of hair out of Anneka’s face.

“Hey beautiful,” she said, feeling tears prick her eyes. “I miss you…

“Which is stupid, I know, because it’s on been a couple of days…

“But so much has happened. It feels like forever, and I really need to talk to someone…”

Anneka’s silence felt vaguely reproachful.

“Yeah, I know there are other people I could talk to, but you get me. You understood me the first moment we met. I never realised how much having you around to talk to meant to me until you weren’t there anymore…

“…

“Everything’s getting so much worse, Anni, and I don’t know what to do. As far as I can tell every half-blood and Muggle born is sick now, including Professor McGonagall, and this morning they announced that Gertie Warrington died, along with Marietta Lynch from Ravenclaw…

“I mean if even McGonagall can’t resist this sickness, then what chance does anyone else have…?

“And now people have started dying, I’m just so scared for you. I know that’s selfish; I know there are hundreds of others in the same boat with you, but I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you…

“…

“…

“…

“McGonagall had me doing all sorts. I mean you remember last year with the cat senses thing when I followed Maledicta?”

If Anneka recalled, she wasn’t letting on.

“She had me doing other stuff like that. Raphael was going after the box the Bloodstone came in so the professor sent me to get it before he could…

“Then she told me to keep hold of it, because the ministry wanted her to take it apart to find out what it did, and that’s a crazy bad idea because it’s pretty much the only thing that can stop this mist. So, she told me not to give it to her, otherwise she’d have to do what that Minister Shacklebolt told her and dismantle it.

“Raphael told me, you see. He said that his dad is part of some secret group of wizards who got hold of a journal written by the guy who built Azkaban back in the fifteenth century. It’s got tons of stuff in it about where Dementors come from and how to control them and the mist from the stone. According to the journal, the only way to stop the Bloodstone is to put it back in the box…

“But McGonagall told me not to go looking for the stone, because now it’ll be guarded by Dementors — worse than that, if they’re the original Dementors, they’ll suck the life out of you instead of your soul…

“Mind you, I have this feeling that losing your soul is very much a fate worse than death, so maybe the original sort aren’t so bad.

“Still, McGonagall made me promise not to try anything, that what’s in the middle of the dark forest is scary enough that even the most powerful wizards in the world would think twice before facing them, let alone a first year like me…

“But the thing is, who else is there? The Ministry knows about the stone because it’s been kept hidden and safe pretty much since it was found in Azkaban, but they don’t know about the journal, so they don’t know what it’s capable of or how to control it. If I tell them, they’re hardly likely to believe me when I say I overheard it from the one person in school who’s really got it in for me, and if they get their hands on the box, they’ll probably wreck it and then where will we be?”

Anneka didn’t seem to have an answer.

“And now that McGonagall’s gone, there’s no teacher I can really talk to. Sprout’s all about keeping me safe, and I expect Professor Longbottom would be the same. I mean I know he was a hero in the Battle of Hogwarts, but both my mum and dad agree he wasn’t all that special in his first year, and that’s going to be how he looks at me, isn’t it?”

Anneka’s silence felt like agreement.

“No-one else would take me seriously, Mugglewump in particular. If he had his way, he’d have me locked up…

“I mean it’s not as if this is some half overheard, half imagined fantasy of mine. Maledicta told me right to my face. But who’s going to believe that?”

Anneka’s continued silence felt like scepticism.

“I kind of used your Christmas present Anni. It felt really important to find out what Raphael knew about what was going on, and Hortensia mentioned that Raphael fancies Morgana Mulrose — you know Hortensia’s really quite nice when you get to know her?”

Unsurprisingly, Anneka did not have an opinion on the matter.

“So anyway, she — Hortensia I mean — helped me get Morgana out of the way so I could use some of her hair to add to the polyjuice potion and I took her place for a few hours.

"What I didn’t expect was how much of an anticlimax it would be turning into an actual girl. I know you told me there wasn’t much to it, but it’s something I’ve felt I’ve needed all my life, and when it finally happened… nothing.”

Anneka reserved judgement.

“I mean almost nothing. There were obviously some differences, like how much neater it felt not having anything between my legs and how much more intense my emotions were.

"Walking felt odd too, like my legs were further apart, sort of, but that might just have been because of being Morgana. You know how gangly she is?"

Anneka may well have known, but she kept her peace.

“I’ve tried to figure out why it didn’t seem to matter. I mean I’ve lived most of my life feeling like I needed to change, but the moment I got what I was looking for felt sort of… meh, you know?

“It’s like what I’ve had these past few months since coming to Hogwarts is enough. You know, people see me like a girl, they treat me like a girl and it’s like that’s what I needed all along, not so much to actually be a girl, but to have other people treat me like one. Does that make sense?”

Anneka kept her thoughts to herself.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you’d talk back to me. I wish you could. I really miss you.”

She stroked Anneka’s cheek, but the coldness of her skin upset her, so she withdrew her hand.

“So anyway, with me looking like Morgana, it didn’t take long for Raph to approach me. You know, I wasn’t prepared for how much he made my skin crawl. I mean, I know he’s not given me any reason to like him, but the sense of revulsion I felt when he was anywhere near me was so intense.

“He didn’t seem to notice; he was too eager to impress me. He told me everything. He talked about a society of pure bloods called The Order of Purity and their plans, about Ekrisdis’ journal and what it taught them, about the Bloodstone and the box it was in.

“Anneka, I know how to stop the mist, and I even have the means to do it. Raph came back to Hogwarts to recover the box. He told me it’s the only thing that can contain the Bloodstone’s power. He was going to steal it, but McGonagall caught him sneaking out of his dormitory in the middle of the night. That’s when she sort of sent me to get it. She’d spotted me waiting outside the Slytherin common room too with my cat face on, which was how she knew it was me. Before she marched Raphael off, she kind of hinted at how I could go about getting hold of it, so I did.

“Only now I don’t know what to do. McGonagall all but told me to keep the box hidden to keep it safe, and she told me in no uncertain terms to try and do anything to fix this situation myself, and now she’s out of the picture. The Ministry don’t want anyone interfering with what they’re doing, but they don’t have the information I have because no-one outside of The Order of Purity knows what’s inside Ekrisdis’ journal, and out of anyone who’s left, nobody will take me seriously.

“Anni, people are dying and all I can do is sit here talking in circles to someone who isn’t even awake. I have to do something, and I really don’t know what to do. I can’t do nothing, but I can’t think of anything to do.”

The silence in the room, the stillness of her friend seemed wrong after she’d poured out her heart. The place felt like a mausoleum and Lori sensed her anguish drain out of her.

“So anyway, I’m sorry for using the polyjuice potion like that, but hopefully you can see I had good reason for doing what I did and you can forgive me, even though I know you were looking forward to having a twin for a day. Being an only child can’t be easy, and I guess I’m so much luckier than you ‘cause Lysander‘s been there all my life.

“…!

“Anneka, you’re a genius!” Lori took her friend by the shoulders and reached in to kiss her pale cheek. “Lysander, I’ve got to find Lysander!”

She jumped off the bed and ran towards the door.

Even as she did so, she heard a dry rasping breath from one of the other beds. She ran to where it had come from and found a girl, whose name she couldn’t recall, struggling for air. Even as she watched, Lori saw a tendril of white mist hovering around her mouth, drawn in with the next inhalation. The girl’s eyes shot open, and she tried to draw in more air even though her lungs were full.

Lori wrenched the door open and started shouting, “Help! Come quickly! I think she’s dying.”

Professor Sprout came running from the common room and the green robed Healer appeared in a doorway further down the corridor.

Lori turned and ran back to the girl, still struggling to get air into her full lungs.

The Healer pushed her out of the way and pressed hard with both hands on the girl’s chest, forcing her to exhale. The next breath in seemed to allow her some respite, but not enough. The doctor forced her lungs empty again, making her breathe out even though her instinct was to try and suck in more air.

“It’s the mist,” Lori said. “It’s coating the inside of her lungs.”

“We know!” shouted the Healer. “If there was something we could do about it, we would. Look, you have to go.” He turned back to the girl.

Lori stood by helplessly. The full horror of what was happening filled her. It was still daytime, which meant mist was leaking through the wards without any Dementors there to push it through. More than that, the dormitories were where the half-bloods had been put after the first night. All the Muggleborn were in the infirmary, which meant that the mist was trying to claim its first victim from among the half-bloods.

That meant all the unconscious students were at risk — Anneka was at risk. Lori had run out of time. She turned and fled.

Girls’ Changing Room – Chapter 10 – Into the forest by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	I’m aiming to post twice this weekend, so keep an eye out for another chapter on Sunday

-oOo-
She’d never visited Lysander in his dormitory before, just as he’d never been down to see her at Hufflepuff. She knew where the Ravenclaws lived though, everyone in her year knew where the other common rooms were. She ran as fast as she could to Ravenclaw tower and leapt up the stairs, taking them three at a time. One student — old enough to be a prefect, though she didn’t slow to check — called after her ineffectually, otherwise she made it to the door unhindered.

No handle, no keyhole. Just a door knocker in the shape of an eagle’s head. She lifted the knocker and let it fall.

It made no sound, but the eyes flashed open. “Which came first,” it asked, “the phoenix or the flame?”

Flustered and out of breath, it took Lori a moment to think, then it came to her. A story her mother had told her and her twin once. The answer came with the memory. “A circle has no beginning,” she said.

“Well reasoned,” the knocker said and the door swung open.

It made sense that the door knocker would recycle its riddles. It would be impossible to go on inventing new ones, or at least highly inefficient, but how many had it accumulated over the years, and what were the chances it would ask her one she already knew?

She stepped into a large circular room with arched windows and a navy blue carpet. The place was scattered with complicated looking instruments and bulging bookcases. Several students looked up from the books they were studying as she appeared through the doorway.

“Er, I’m looking for my brother, Lysander,” she said, not quite as breathless as she had been with the door.

One of the older students stood up. “I’ll fetch him for you,” he said and disappeared up a spiral staircase.

A minute later he returned with Lysander following close behind.

“Lori, what’s the matter?”

Lori paused briefly to smile her gratitude to the boy who’d helped then turned to her brother. “Lye, I need to talk to you right now.” She looked around at the roomful of curious eyes, none of which had returned to the books they’d been perusing. “Somewhere private if possible.”

Lysander took his sister’s arm and guided her back out the way she had come. “Privacy is hardly something we could hope for in there. The dorm would have been better, but we’re not allowed to have girls in there, not even family. The nearest place is going to be the quad or one of the courtyards, I think.”

They were only a short way down the stair when Lori spotted a corridor she thought she recognised. She paused and led her brother down it.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Trying a hunch,” Lori murmured. And focused her mind on finding somewhere quiet to talk.

The brickwork rearranged itself with a gentle scraping to reveal a large arched door. Lori was relieved it wasn’t the smaller, powder blue one from her previous visits. She pushed open the door and led Lysander inside.

“What is this place?” he asked.

“The Room of Requirement,” Loris said. “You know I told you about it?”

“Wow!” Lysander looked around him at the cheerful fire burning in a large fireplace, the two comfy chairs and the two steaming cups of cocoa on the table between them.

“Sit down, Lye. I have a lot to tell you, and I don’t think we have much time. I have a really tough decision to make and I need a second head.”

“You’re admitting that I’m more intelligent than you after all?”

“If you like. Look I don’t really care. A bunch of things happened over the last day or two and I just need you to help me think them through.”

Lysander sobered up immediately and gave his sister his full attention. Lori explained everything that had happened recently that she hadn’t had time to share with her brother. Lori managed to keep succinct and covered everything including her recent visit to Anneka in less than ten minutes. Eventually she’d finished and picked up the mug of cocoa nearest to her. It was still hot enough to drink and had some added spice that gave it a bit of a bite. She decided she liked it.

Lysander looked stunned. Lori gave him some time to think, but when he hadn’t moved after five minutes, she gave him a mental prod. “So what do you think?”

Lysander physically shook himself. “I think… I don’t know what to think. Of the two of us you have the better sense of other people’s reactions, but are you sure none of the teachers could help? I mean what about Flitwick or Longbottom?”

“Professor Flitwick’s an academic. I think he’d give us a fair hearing, but in the end he’d be inclined to go with the Ministry boffins rather than a couple of first years. Professor Longbottom is more likely to side with us, but he still has a thing for Mum, and that’d make him wary about helping if it meant us getting into danger.”

“That doesn’t leave any good choices Lori. McGonagall told you that going into the forest right now would be suicide.”

“Except she’s already underestimated what we can do. I mean hello? You and me both, first years casting full Patronuses?”

“But Professor M already told you how much more difficult it is casting a Patronus when there’s a Dementor present.”

“What if I were to cast it before going in? You know I have spells that can stop it and direct it. In fact what about that spell that combined our two Patronuses?”

“McGonagall said it was one of the most complicated and dangerous spells we could cast on a Patronus, and she made us promise not to try it again.”

“I know, but at any point did you feel it was going wrong?”

“No, but…”

“It’s our twin thing, Lye. You need to be totally in sync with the person you’re doing it with, which is why it’s so hard for other people. We usually are and we know when we’re not. If a Patronus from either of us would send those things packing, imagine what our combined Patronus would do.”

“I don’t know, I still don’t like it.”

“So what? You’re prepared to sit around doing nothing while our friends die?” The name of the girl she’d seen gasping for breath leapt to Lori’s mind. “I just saw Gwendolyn Whisp fighting for her life down in the Hufflepuff dormitories. She’s a half-blood, which means that everyone who’s ill could die at any moment.”

“I’m not sitting around doing nothing. Every Ravenclaw in Hogwarts — first years included,” he slapped himself on the chest, “is searching for some clue about what we can do…”

“We know what to do Lye. What we need to do is figure out the best way to do it.”

Lye pulled at his lower lip, immersed deep in his thoughts. His eyes betrayed how little he liked where they were taking him. There were no good choices, which meant all he could do was search for the least worst of the bad ones. Somewhere in her recounting of what she’d learnt, Lori had made up her mind. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop her, and the thought of losing her terrified him. He sipped at his cocoa, tasted the spices, felt the fear recede and a plan begin to form. It was a long way from being a good plan, but it optimised what few advantages they had.

-oOo-

Lori had expected to fight her brother over some aspects of the plan, but he wasn’t in Ravenclaw for nothing. Once he’d considered all the pros and cons, he could reason his every decision, even if he himself didn’t like what he’d decided. He’d agreed she was right, they needed to do something and they couldn’t turn to anyone else to do it for them.

The first step was getting to the Forbidden Forest, and there was no way they could come up with of getting past Hagrid on the covered bridge.

“The invisibility cloak may keep him from seeing you, but the moment you step into the mist there’ll be a you shaped hole in it, and Hagrid’s not daft, at least not that daft. The best bet will be to head down to the boat house.”

“The Fat Friar’s guarding that path.”

“So I’ll distract him and you sneak past wearing your cloak. Once you’re down by the lake’s edge, take the path that Hagrid showed us the first day we were here, remember it? I’ll head back through to the covered bridge and keep to the castle end of it so as not to get Hagrid too suspicious. Stay by the lake shore and when you’re close to the mist, uncover your hand and give me a wave. I’ll send my Patronus down to you, you can cast yours and, if you feel it’ll work, we can combine them. If not you back off and we think of something else.”

“Agreed. Watch for my wand movement,” Lori said. “You remember the incantation?”

“Of course. After they’re melded, you get the Patronus under control and head into the mist. By the time anyone figures out what’s going on it’ll be too late to stop you. I’ll then go and tell Professor Longbottom what you’re doing — I think you’re right, he’d try and stop you no matter what you told him, but if you’ve already gone then he’ll do everything in his power to go after you and rescue you.

“I don’t like that I can’t come with you, but we won’t both fit under that invisibility cloak of yours, and you’ll need someone to distract the Friar and tell Longbottom after you’re gone. Besides, if I’m lending you my Patronus, I’ll be a liability in there with you. Lori I…”

“I know.” She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. It felt natural and more than a little weird at the same time. “I know what you’re risking, and it makes you the bravest person I know. I mean the worst that can happen to me is that I die…”

“Don’t think like that.”

“I have no intention of doing so Lye. I’m just saying that I’m aware you’re taking a far greater risk than I am, which makes you the bravest person I know. I just want you to know that.”

An awkward silence followed.

“There’s one other thing,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“This box. Can I see it?”

Lori fished it out of her book bag and placed it on the table.

Lysander opened it and examined the crushed velvet cushion inside. It lifted in one corner.

“Give me your earrings,” he said.

“What?”

“Look, just do it. Didn’t you say we didn’t have much time?”

He tucked one of the earrings into the corner of the box, under the cushion and pocketed the other.

“You remember the magic on these things?”

“Oh, of course! You're a genius, Lye.”

“I know, but there’s more. Remember I told you there was more?”

Lori nodded.

“The guy offered to put a couple of one shot charms onto each of them for a couple of extra sickles. You didn’t have your invisibility cloak at the time, so I figured it would be worth it. Then there was the mist and stuff and I forgot to tell you until after McGonagall gave you back the cloak, then it didn’t seem so important.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“The earrings will give you five minutes of invisibility each. One shot deal, the magic fades afterwards. The pendant,” he pointed at Lori’s chest, “that’ll make you look like the person you imagine for, I think it was about half an hour. It has to be someone about your size and it’s only a cheap charm so I don’t know how well it’ll work.

“You activate a charm by holding the item you want to use and saying, ‘my brother is most assuredly the best.’ Sorry, it felt like a neat joke at the time. I don’t know if it’ll do you any good where you’re going, probably not, but you don't need the invisibility ‘cos you already have your cloak.”

“It’s something else to work with. Thanks Lye, you really are the best.”

“No, ‘My brother is most…’”

“I got it, Lye. I’m just saying, you really are the best.”

“We should go,” Lysander said, unable to hold his sister’s gaze.

Lori agreed and they headed for the entrance courtyard and the long winding staircase down to the boathouse.

The first part of the plan went without a hitch. Lysander had been thinking how to distract the Fat Friar and had a bunch of questions lined up regarding ghostly mists and what similarities they might have to the one surrounding the castle. Lori was able to sneak past without the Friar being any the wiser and made her way down the stairs as swiftly and silently as she could.

She reached the bottom of the staircase and looked back up. She could just make out the Friar standing alone at the top, which meant that her brother was already on his way to the covered bridge. She set off down the path following the bottom of the cliff. The castle’s magical barrier held the mist at bay a few hundred feet out into the lake, and the water beside her was still and flat, like black glass, adding to the eeriness of the scene.

She hurried on, not worried about making any noise. Before long the path widened into a scree filled valley and the going became a little harder. The valley had just started to rise when she reached the edge of the mist. She found the path that led up to Hagrid’s hut. From memory, the slope wasn’t too steep from here.

She looked up at the bridge and caught sight of a small figure with familiar blond hair standing at the castle end of the bridge. Hagrid’s bulk could just be seen a little over halfway across where the mist cut through it.

Lori turned to face her brother and raised the invisibility cloak to wave at him. He raised his own hand in response and prepared his wand. She did the same.

“Expecto patronum!” Lysander’s voice reached her clearly across the distance. She saw his phoenix descending towards her and, gauging her own response, cast her own spell, launching her unicorn across the lake just as the flaming bird soared over her head. She could feel Lye with her and swung her wand a second time.

“Unesco patronum!” she shouted, hearing her brother’s words echo her own a fraction of a second later. The two streaking white creatures merged and grew into the giant winged unicorn which began to spiral upwards. “Arresto patronum!” She cast the third spell and the giant turned her way and glided down to stand beside her.

She turned towards the mist feeling her courage swell with the immense Patronus by her side. It fanned its wings gently and the mist receded ahead of them as they climbed the slope.

“No!” She turned her head at the giant bellow from the bridge. Hagrid was staring down at her. “Lori, don’t do it!”

She glanced toward the far end of the bridge, but Lysander had already gone. This was not a time for turning back. She climbed the gentle rise towards the forest, the mist falling away ahead of her as she went.

-oOo-

It dawned on Lori that she hadn’t thought the plan all the way through. She’d been so focused on getting past Hagrid and the ghosts that she hadn’t really considered how much of an obstacle the forest itself presented. Now she was here, she recalled its size, how it had taken over fifteen minutes on the back of a fast moving unicorn to reach the centre. She couldn’t ride her Patronus, incorporeal as it was, and on foot the journey would take… well, hours, and there was no guarantee that she could make the Patronus last even a fraction of that time.

Worse was she didn’t know exactly where in the forest she was heading. She’d intended to instruct the Patronus to seek out the Bloodstone, but if it ran ahead in its search, there was no way she’d be able to keep up.

The gently undulating wings of the fiery, winged unicorn kept the mist at bay, but even so something of the oppressive feeling it carried leached through. She felt her breath coming with increasing effort as she made her way deeper into the trees, and as the canopy thickened and the light dimmed, she felt her courage fading, and with it the Patronus beside her began to lose its brilliance.

She caught sight of a movement, and for a terrified moment she felt certain the Dementors were moving in on her. In Morgana’s body she would have screamed and jumped out of her skin. As herself, she maintained control but barely. The Patronus beside her wavered but held.

She was deep enough into the forest now that she was not even certain of her way back. Fear began to grip her as her imagination took hold. Even though it was still late morning, winter in the Highlands meant it wouldn’t be too many hours before the sun would disappear behind the horizon. She saw herself, cold and miserable, sobbing at the foot of a tree. She saw the Dementors coming, in ones and two at first, then in greater numbers and with more boldness. They sucked all the joy out of the air and soon they would suck her dry.

One word stood out. Joy. She couldn’t maintain the spell without embracing joy. She dived after happy memory.

"Last and by no means least,” her father’s words sounded in her mind, “you have your family. Your brother, your mum and me. Remember today. Remember that we love you now and for always, no matter what. You weren't sure for a while there, but now you have evidence that you can take to Gringots. Whatever happens in the future, you need not worry what we feel for you, because it's the same as what you can see and feel right now. We love you no matter what. We're with you no matter what."

Tears sprang to her eyes as the sheer relief those words had brought coursed through her again. She watched as the spectral form beside her brightened.

Then waned again as she imagined her father pacing back an forth fretfully at home. Her mother sitting placidly and apparently distracted beside him, tranquil on the surface but with the same emotions twisting deep inside her.

She reached for another memory. Anneka’s bright smile and easy friendship. So many instances, but as soon as she brought any of them to the fore, the pale form of her friend lying unconscious in bed overlaid them, along with the desperate look in Gwendolyn’s face as she gasped for breath.

She thought of Lysander, of the many happy moments they’d shared, of his protectiveness towards her, which she realised had been there all her life, of his calm acceptance and encouragement that first day when she’d turned up wearing a skirt. But Lysander would be worried for her now. She imagined him hunting out Professor Longbottom, explaining what she was doing. She imagined the look of horror on the professor’s face and she felt all joy slipping from her.

Beside her the Patronus flickered like a faulty neon sign, a sight she remembered from a family excursion to a Muggle city some years back.

A sudden anger coursed through her. Why did happiness have to be the secret of the Patronus charm? It was such a fickle emotion. True, happy memories brought a lightness of spirit which made it easier to hope, but hope wasn’t a feeling so much as a choice. She reached for her hope with a fierce determination, chose to believe that she would succeed, embraced the moment in the future when this would all be over, when the mist would be gone and all her friends would be safe. There wasn’t much joy in the thought, but there was an iron determination.

Against the odds, her Patronus flared with an eye-watering brilliance. There was even a hint of colour to the flaming wings. A pulse fanned out from the apparition, pushing back the mist for a hundred yards in every direction. Enough of a clearing to show her the source of those half imagined movements.

By some instinct, she had come to the glade where she and Anneka had quite literally curried favour from two unicorn mares. Standing before her in all his glory was the giant stallion they had groomed in the heart of the forest. There was no mistaking him as no other unicorn she’d seen that night had come close to his size, which was almost a match for the winged Patronus.

Lori curtsied low and kept her head bowed until the creature’s horn touched her. In an instant her head was filled with images of the clearing in the centre of the forest, of an impossibly dense fog and of many of the unicorn foals lying terrified on the ground with their mothers standing over them, while Dementors swarmed and circled the clearing.

“Will you carry me into the forest?” she asked, looking up into the liquid brown eyes.

In answer, the immense beast knelt, reaching one foreleg out straight in front. It was still quite a daunting climb. Lori positioned herself beside the creature and a memory of her last time doing anything like this flashed through her mind. She paused.

“Will you permit my Patronus to lead the way?” she asked.

The unicorn bowed just a little lower.

“Thank you,” Lori said. “I shall ask Hagrid if I can come and give you another brushing down when this is all ended.” She climbed onto the creature’s back. Sense memory flooded through her and as she recalled her previous ride through the forest, her Patronus flared bright. “Wherever my Patronus leads, I would ask you to follow,” she said, then making sure her bag was secure and properly closed, and taking a fistful of main in her left hand, she took out her wand. “Patronum invenire sanguinum lapis,” she said, then held on with both hands and legs as her mount leapt after the rapidly charging silvery beast now disappearing deep into the forest.

The ride was far more terrifying than exhilarating. The Patronus’s incorporeal form, unhindered by such mundane matters as obstacles, charged ahead at breakneck speed. The mist cleared a few tens of yards ahead of them, giving them fractions of a second to avoid the trees and thickets that loomed ahead. The unicorn stallion was up to the task though, matching footfall for footfall with the Patronus and seemingly aware of the location of every tree and root in the forest even before it loomed into view out of the gathering gloom. As before, the foliage whipped past at an unimaginable pace. As before not one single branch came close enough to snag or slap at Lori. Despite the higher speed, the ride took longer and the trees around them grew denser and darker. Eventually, with her thighs and fists aching from holding on and with her heart hammering in her breast, the stallion skidded to a halt, reared once and stood still.

The Patronus had disappeared ahead and out of sight leaving Lori mounted in pitch darkness with not the least idea what to do next.

She reached for what courage remained to her and clambered down to the ground, which was hard and bare.

“Thank you once again,” she whispered to the unicorn. Before, she had been certain it had its own glow, but now she could see none of it. She cast felis sensorium on herself and her senses sharpened.

Immediately her hackles rose. She became aware of the presence of some unknown danger ahead. She still couldn’t see much, only the dimmest outline of the creature beside her and areas of deeper darkness she took to be trees. She could smell her companion — a sweet scent not unlike cinnamon — and a whole lot of decay from all around her.

More for what comfort it gave than for any real reason, she hid herself with her cloak, then, wand in hand, she advanced, leaving the gently nickering creature behind. As she advanced, she became gradually aware of the diminishing gloom. Ahead of her she could see a light, growing in intensity as she rounded trees. She could see the ground now, bare and compacted between giant roots, wrestling one another in a macabre, frozen battle.

She stepped over and around the trees and advanced further until the source of light lay revealed ahead of her. Her Patronus stood still in the middle of a clearing. Beneath its giant legs, lay the Bloodstone, lurid green to Lori’s cat eyes, and beside it a cauldron, crusted with the dried remains of its contents. Above the clearing, the tree canopy reached across, blotting out whatever stars might have shone through had the mist not been so thick, and swirling about it all, Dementors in their dozens formed a vortex, intertwining in their agitation. Held at bay momentarily by the brilliance of the immense beast in their midst.

There was no time to think. Lori reached into her bag and pulled out the stone box. Acting on instinct, she ran for the stone, focusing all her will on reaching it.

The Dementors sensed her, undeterred by her invisibility cloak and descended on her en mass. The Patronus prevented them from approaching too close, but with each pass they turned their gaping maws in her direction and, even from a distance they managed to draw something from her. By small degrees she felt her essence draining from her, her strength being sapped away. She was barely halfway across the clearing when her legs gave way and she fell first to her knees, then to all fours. A few yards further and she had collapsed to her belly, still crawling but more slowly now, dragging herself forward with all that remained of her will as her strength faded to nothing.

The stone in front of her swam in and out of focus. It was too far. She forced herself to press on, knowing all the while it was hopeless. Despair fell on her in crashing waves. For every inch gained she lost half her speed. She cried out in anguish, her Patronus flickering and threatening to collapse into nothing.

From somewhere behind her, she heard a neighing and the sound of galloping hooves. She turned enough to see the great unicorn charging into the fray. Lori felt the Dementors leave her, turn their attention to the noble animal. She saw them descend on it ravenous, tearing into its soul. She watched helplessly as it reared, screamed and fell.

The instant the Dementors had turned from her, she’d felt strength flood back into her. She couldn’t waste the sacrifice, she wouldn’t. With limbs fully back under her control and a renewed determination, she scrambled to her feet and covered the remaining distance to the Bloodstone in a stumbling run. Grabbing the stone with her free hand, she rammed it into the stone box and pulled the lid closed.

Nothing happened. The mist was still as thick, the Dementors still as numerous. Her sudden movement had distracted them from their feeding frenzy and they rose above the still form of the unicorn and turned their empty cowels in her direction. The faltering brilliance of her Patronus slowed them, but they were too many, they would reach her soon. This was the end, but at least she’d stopped the mist. Anneka would recover now, that was all that mattered.

Her Patronus snorted and stamped its feet as though it expected something of her. There remained that last spell she'd learned but never cast, and if this wasn’t a last resort… She reached for all her happiest memories, unsurprised to find Anneka in so many of them. The most powerful were of her father, as was only right for any daughter, but the sweetest were of her friend. She wrapped herself in the love she knew surrounded her and lifted her wand one last time.

“Patronum maximus.”

-oOo-

She awoke to find herself in the infirmary. Professor McGonagall sat on her bed cleaning her glasses furiously and muttering under her breath.

“Who’s stupid, professor?” she asked, more than half convinced this was a dream.

“Oh my word! Madam Pomfrey, she’s awake. Lori, you’ve had us so worried.”

“Where is everybody? I thought the infirmary was full.”

“It was until about a week ago. Where did you get this book?” She brandished You and Your Patronus in front of Lori’s nose.

“The Room of Requirement. It gave me another book as well, a journal.”

“That one I’m inclined to let you keep, but this, this is too dangerous.”

“What happened professor? You were ill.”

“I rather feel you know considerably more on the matter than I young lady, and if I weren’t so concerned for your well-being right now, I’d be asking you that exact question. Whatever were you thinking, going into the Forbidden Forest alone?”

She was saved from having to respond to the admonition by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey who put the back of one hand against Lori’s forehead and lifted her wrist with the other.

“She needs to rest, Minerva,” the ageing nurse said. “You’ll have to save your scolding for later.”

“Madam Pomfrey, please,” Lori said, “I need to know what happened. I won’t be able to rest until I do.”

The Healer gave an exasperated sigh. “Five minutes, not a second more.” She turned and fussed with the curtains, drawing them around Lori’s bed to give them some privacy.

“Well Lori, as I’m sure you’re aware, I was indisposed at the time. You’ll receive a far better explanation from someone who was actually involved such as Professor Longbottom or your brother, but since neither of them are here at present, you’ll have to make do with my second hand description.

“As I understand it, Lysander went to Professor Longbottom with the news that you had gone into the forest alone — something which, incidentally, I recall instructing you expressly not to do.”

“I’m sorry professor, I didn’t feel like I had a choice.”

“Well, let that be a discussion for another day when you’re a little stronger.

“In any case, the professor rounded up as many faculty members as he could, as well as a group of older students who’d mastered the Patronus charm, and they approached the forest together. They crossed the covered bridge, sending a constant stream of Patronuses ahead of them, then just as they reached the edge of the forest, they experienced what they describe as ‘an explosion of light rushing out of the forest.’ Apparently it, er, ‘washed over the entire castle grounds and dispelled the mist completely.’

“Hagrid who is, I will admit, wise in such matters, was able to take a bearing from the event and went charging into the forest. Lysander and Professor Mugglewump, it may surprise you to know, ran after him, however the rest of the group took a while longer to adapt to what they had experienced and were about to enter the forest themselves when Minister Shacklebolt and several ministry aurors caught sight of them and flew down to demand what was going on.

“Professor Flitwick was good enough to intercept the minister and his entourage, allowing Professor Longbottom and the majority of his search party to disappear into the forest.

“About an hour later, the search party encountered Hagrid, Lysander and Professor Mugglewump returning. Hagrid was carrying your unconscious body and the professor held the stone casket with the Bloodstone inside. The party then exited from the forest by the quickest route possible, emerging to find, so I am told, Minister Shacklebolt still engaged in a heated discussion with the Professor Flitwick.

“On returning to the castle, the group found that some of the ailing students had already regained consciousness. I was one of the first to return to my senses, somewhat unfortunately as it meant I was required to take over from Professor Flitwick in dealing with the minister.

“It has been a week since then and you’ve been unconscious all this time. You’ve had a constant stream of people sitting by your bed. Your brother I suppose goes without saying, Hortensia and Morgana, most of the teaching staff have taken their turn. Your parents came as soon as the grounds were declared clear of threat and they have been by your side almost constantly. They would be here now if I hadn’t insisted they take some rest and promised I’d tell them the moment you woke.

“What happened to the unicorn professor?” Lori asked.

“I’m sorry Lori. We did find the remains of a unicorn, but we thought it had just been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’ve not known Dementors to feast off anything but humans before now, but they didn’t leave much of it. Hagrid went back the following day to collect the body and return it to the herd.”

Hot tears sprang from Lori’s eyes and flooded her cheeks. “He sacrificed himself for me.”

The professor let her hand rest on Lori’s shoulders until the tears subsided. “I doubt he’d have done so for any but the noblest of acts. Hagrid almost didn’t find you, wrapped in your cloak as you were with the stone back in its casket clutched tightly in your arms. You can thank Lysander for that. His twin sense, I believe he said, led him straight to you. Mind you, if the unicorn was anything to go by, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“Patronum maximus,” Lori said weakly.

“Yes, I guessed as much after reading through this book. It saved your life, Lori, dispersed both the mist and the Dementors, but it will have consequences. We’ll talk about those later though. Madam Pomfrey is giving me a certain look that tells me I’m no longer welcome.”

“But everyone’s all right now professor? Anneka’s all right?”

“Yes Lori. With the mist gone we’ve been able to bring in more experienced Healers from St Mungo’s who were able to devise a means of drawing out the substance that was affecting their breathing. I do wish we knew more about it though.”

“Mors Mundani,” Lori said without thinking.

McGonagall froze on the spot and turned back to her student. The intensity in her eyes was more powerful than any vertiaserum, not that Lori felt much like holding back what she knew. When she thought of what Raphael had brought to Hogwarts…

“Mors Mundani is one of the rituals in the Regnum Caligo, the grimoire written by Ekrizdis. It draws a mist out of the Bloodstone that attacks anyone of less than half magical heritage making it so they can’t breathe.”

“And how on Earth would you know that?” McGonagall’s face held the severest expression Lori had yet seen.

“Professor McGonagall,” Madam Pomfrey interrupted. “I really must insist…” She stopped at McGonagall’s raised hand.

“Raphael told me. You know I used the polyjuice potion Anni gave me for Christmas to become like Morgana Melrose. I did it because I’d heard he fancied her. He told me quite a lot.”

“Such as?”

“His dad belongs to something called the Order of Purity. It was founded by whoever took the grimoire from Azkaban and its members have been waiting for an opportunity to get their hands on the Bloodstone so they could do something like this ever since.”

McGonagall spun on her heels and marched out of the infirmary without another word. Some minutes later, two burly wizards appeared at the entrance to the infirmary and made a nuisance of themselves with anyone coming in or out. This included Anneka, who Lori could hear and desperately wanted to talk to, but who was turned away regardless.

Lori tried protesting to Madam Pomfrey, but to know avail.

“I’m sorry Lori, those men are Ministry Aurors requested specifically by Professor McGonagall. It was also the headmistress who insisted that no visitors should be allowed unless accompanied by her.”

“But it’s Anneka…”

“You’re not the only one who can use polyjuice potion, young lady.”

That gave her a moment’s pause, but only a moment.

“How do we know the aurors are who they say they are?”

“There was an incident at the school a few years ago when an auror was held prisoner while his captor used polyjuice potion to impersonate him. Since then the Ministry has come up with a means of verifying their personnel.”

“And you?”

Madam Pomfrey bit back a smile. “Professor McGonagal and I have known one another for a very long time. I doubt anyone pretending to be either one of us would be able to fool the other. Besides, I’ve been here since before you were brought in.”

“And I’ve been here a whole week?”

“Yes. Now no more talking. You need to rest.”

“But I’ve been asleep for a whole week!”

“Unconscious, and that means you have a lot of mending to do. If you don’t feel like sleeping you could always read.” She picked up the tattier of the two books Lori had acquired in the Room of Requirement and offered it to her patient.

It seemed the better of the two options. Lori took the book and opened it.

Girls’ Changing Room – Chapter 11 – Randolph's tale by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	This bit would either be two shortish chapters or one long one. Since it’s the weekend, I thought I might as well keep it as one long one. Anyway, introducing Randolph the Rash.

-oOo-
Lori opened the book and sighed. The author certainly had not excelled at penmanship. A quick riffle through the pages showed every one filled with the same cramped style. In addition, age had faded the ink to a light brown stain that blended in places almost to the colour of the pages. She cast lumos and tucked her wand behind her ear where the brilliantly glowing tip was out of her line of sight. It helped the lettering to stand out but didn’t make it any easier to decipher the scrawl. She started to read.

I have ever lived widdershins in a turn-wise world. Since my earliest memory I have felt misplaced and never once have I held a sense of belonging.

Lori sighed again. She was no stranger to ancient texts — her History of Magic textbook was filled with quotes dating from centuries in the past. A lot of the time you could guess the meaning of outdated words from the way they were used, but it made for harder reading, even if it did add a sort of romantic air to the narrative.

I have not wit to express more clearly the manner of this sensation, but that it dwells within me, a dark thing that unsettles my mood and seeks acknowledgement. While I so suffer, it demands of me that others suffer also.

Were I otherwise, I would perhaps have fed the shadows of my soul with my fists, bringing misery to others through such pain as I might have inflicted through pugilistic pursuits. However, my active mind speaks to me of the futility of violence, of how it begets only further violence. Or at least this is the lie I have told myself. That I be of short stature and little muscled also undoubtedly influences my thinking, that and the memories of the beatings I received from my peers in younger years for no other reason than I were different. So instead, I honed my wit and taught myself to wield it as a far greater weapon in my cause. Such wounds to the mind and spirit, I have discovered, inflict a deeper and more enduring pain, and bring a greater easement to the burden I bear.

And so I grew and earned for myself the reputation of trickster. I was indiscriminate in the choice of my victims, bringing both laughter and shame to all but myself, and in this I further earned myself naught but enemies. As I grew beyond childhood, I discovered that those that might have helped me find a profession, guarded their grudges and turned me away when time came for me to seek gainful employ. It did little to deter me from my mischief, but rather did it encourage me to aspire to greater heights, and in this I fared poorly for soon enough I found myself begging stale crusts simply to keep from starving.

My luck proved not all bad though, and one of my finer japes — I forget the details — drew the attention of a passing noble. He recognised in me a rare wit and an indomitable spirit — or so he told me — and recommended me to the king who at the time sought to replace his fool. I found little difficulty in persuading King Laramy I was his man, and he readily appointed me. I saw no shame in such a calling, for though seen as a fool, it is more those who do the seeing who earn the name, for I well knew a clever fool may make fools of the clever, and I have ever been clever.

Lori felt her heart quicken. She’d harboured suspicions as to why her alter ego in the Mirror of Erised had insisted she take this book, but here was her first indication of the truth of it. Fool to King Laramy — this was the journal of Randolph the Rash!

It made for tiring reading though, and despite her earlier protestations, deciphering just the first page had left her drained. She retrieved her wand and extinguished it before using it as a temporary bookmark and setting the journal to one side. It was still light outside, but she’d barely closed her eyes before sleep overtook her.

-oOo-

The sound of quiet voices roused her — Madam Pomfrey’s insisting that Lori was sleeping and wasn’t to be disturbed.

Well, she wasn’t sleeping anymore and the nap — quite a long one if the change in light levels was anything to go by — had served her well. She felt rested and refreshed and ready for whatever might come. She sat up and coughed gently.

The curtains around her bed twitched aside and Madam Pomfrey came in, fussing over her, taking her pulse and plumping her pillows. Behind her Lori caught a glimpse of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s distinctive form.

“What does the minister want?” she asked casually.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants. He can wait until you’ve recovered.”

“I’m feeling pretty good right now Madam Pomfrey. And he’s not likely to go away, is he? If it’s all the same with you, I think I’d rather get this over with than fret about it.”

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. “Professor McGonagall prefers to be present for interviews like this, but she’s busy at the moment, so it’ll have to wait.”

“I expect the professor’s going to be busy for quite a while,” Lori mused.

“I expect she is.”

“Please Madam Pomfrey. I’ll only worry if you send him away, and he’ll probably be grumpier when he comes back.”

The old Healer couldn’t quite hide the smile playing about her lips. “Give me a moment.”

She stepped through the curtain, said something along the lines of “don’t even think about it” to the minister and bustled off into the corner of the infirmary where her office resided.

She was back a few minutes later and once more speaking to the minister. “Professor McGonagall will allow it this time,” she said, “as long as I stay with you. If either Lori or I decide the interview is over, then it is over, do you understand?”

Minister Shacklebolt apparently understood because the next second he had stepped through the curtain with Madam Pomfrey close behind.

“I’m glad to see you awake,” the minister said with a gentle smile. “You had us worried there for a while.”

“Thank you,” Lori replied quietly. She hadn’t had time to look at the minister at their last encounter, and it came as a slight surprise to see how old he was. There was a lot of grey in his tightly curled hair and his skin hung loose on what had once been a handsome face, forming bags under his eyes and wrinkles around his mouth. For all of that, he still stood strong and proud. He waved a hand at the bed, asking permission to sit on it. Lori nodded.

“I was hoping you could tell me something of what happened to you in the forest, if it’s not too much to ask.” He settled beside Lori, his smile warm and friendly.

“You’re not angry with me?”

He chuckled. “There’s not much point being angry now. The crisis is over and you’re recovering from your ordeal — something for which you should count yourself very lucky indeed.”

“I do, minister…”

“Kingsley, please.”

“Erm, all right. I know it wasn’t a very clever thing to do, but I didn’t see any other choice.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone was ready to listen to me. I found out things that nobody in the ministry or in the school could know, and it made a difference.”

“Such as?”

“Like the stone box. You wanted it taken apart and examined, but I found out it was the only way to stop the Bloodstone from producing the mist. If I’d told you that, would you have still insisted on dismantling it?”

“Erm…”

“You see?”

“According to our understanding, it’s the Dementors that produce the mist, when they’re, er, breeding. Professor McGonagall informed us about the Bloodstone of course, but it wasn’t something we were all that interested in. So, you’re right, we probably wouldn’t have listened to you. Not then in any case. I am very much prepared to listen to you now though, young lady. I’d like to hear what you know and how you know it, and I promise I shall take what you say very seriously indeed.”

So, Lori told her story from start to finish, including everything she’d learnt from Raphael, everything she’d seen and noticed, and finally everything she’d done leading up to her entering the forest and what had happened there. She hadn't realised how much she needed to tell it all to someone and was unaware of the effect her words were having on both the minister and Madam Pomfrey until, after nearly three quarters of an hour speaking without pause or interruption, she reached the conclusion of her tale. She looked up into the shocked expressions of her audience.

“What?” she asked.

“That is quite the most fantastical story I have heard since the days of, er, He Whom We Will Not Name. Please,” he added hastily as Lori’s expression turned dark, “I believe every word. I may regret saying this, but it seems we were all very fortunate that you did not do as you were repeatedly told to do. Just as fortunate as you were to survive from the sounds of things.

“Lori, thank you. You have cleared up a considerable amount of confusion for me, and at the same time given me quite a few things that I now urgently need to do. If you will excuse me?” He stood and bizarrely waited for Lori to respond.

“Of course.”

The minster turned and strode out through the curtains with a speed that belied his age.

Madam Pomfrey stood too, still looking quite bewildered. “I imagine you’ll be hungry,” she said distractedly. “Let me fetch you something to eat.” She was gone in a trice leaving Lori suddenly alone with her thoughts.

She felt exhausted from telling her story but didn’t think she could sleep. Instead, she picked up the journal, illuminated her wand and looked for where she’d left off reading.

…and I have ever been clever.

Clever is not wise however, and in my cleverness, I bruised the pride of many a worthy individual. I found ways and means of turning the misfortunes of those about me into the fuel for my japes and trickery. My humour was of a vicious sort, but so was that of my audience, which worked all the more to my benefit. One after another, I turned my sights upon each member of the king’s court and fired the barbed arrows of my wit into them. To be sure, I took pains to seek them out after having ridiculed them in the presence of their peers, begging their forgiveness and entreating that they should see there would be no laughter if I chose no victim. There were times I went too far, and with such folk I left them to their wounded egos and essayed not to bring them more misery, at least until their ruffled feathers had smoothed. It must be said that among such were those who chose to nurse their displeasure, who on occasion sought to be revenged. These I took the greatest delight in hounding remorselessly until they surrendered or, in some few cases, chose to abandon the court. Of these latter few, I find certain justification in the sure knowledge that none were missed. To my mind all were victims in potentia and none more so than my patrons, the king and queen, though I knew beyond doubt that, should I seek to turn on them it would have to be with no ordinary foolery.

It was not until my fifth year in service to the king and queen that I stumbled upon the means to do just that.

Within the walls of the castle dwelt an elderly soul, as grey of character as he was of countenance. Ne’er once did I remark his presence within the court of the king, though often enough I would chance upon him making his way about the castle’s labyrinthine corridors. In each case he would have upon his person some flask or vial of liquid, the nature of which varied widely — some dark and thick as tar, others brightly coloured and vaporous. I took to following him and often enough discovered him keeping clandestine assignations with all manner of folk. Be they of noble or humble birth, he would speak to them the same. Though I rarely drew near enough to hear his words, they ever seemed to be in manner of instruction and accompanied with the passing across of whatever glassware he bore.

It seemed I had stumbled upon the king’s apothecary, and here was a source of great delight, for who has greatest need of a quiet tryst with a master of potions but one who seeks to allay some circumstance of embarrassment? Here was a fellow whose friendship it seemed full worth the effort to cultivate, and so I did. I asked about and discovered the whereabouts of his apartments, then set to encountering him nearby as if by chance, eventually inveigling myself into his good graces.

Good man that he was, his lips remained tight sealed upon the secrets of those for whom he prepared his medicines. Not once did I trick him into revealing a confidence, though in truth he seemed contented enough to speak of his trade and, once satisfied there existed no source of humiliation behind his words, he would often explain the nature of his work. It was thus I discovered the essence of the sparkling, golden potions he prepared and delivered on the first day of each month to King and Queen Laramy, and within his words did I catch sight of the first glimmerings of a plan that might lead to the greatest jest of my career.

This he told me: That the potions were of a rare magic indeed. Within them resided the capacity to renew and maintain a fairness of countenance upon whomsoever drank them. Until that moment I had never once paused to wonder that the royal couple might be possessed of common mien, though in that same moment it proved a wonder that I had never taken pause to so consider, for who among the kings and queens of Fareway has ever proven not to be fair of face?

In my first thought, I considered replacing the potions with some common cordial of similar aspect that the genuine face of our monarchy might be revealed, but then the potioneer continued to speak on his craft and what he then told me showed me the way to a far better joke.

I would ne’er have considered it, but though in appearance there existed nothing to remark between the two potions, still within their ingredients there lay a great difference. That which brought delicacy and beauty to the queen’s appearance was in certain crucial manner different from that which enhanced the rugged handsome lines of the king, and thus it seemed to me the greatest of japes for each to experience the benefits afforded the other, if only for one month.

And so it was that I remained with the potioneer as he prepared the drafts and awaited his declaration that they both be complete. In that moment I feigned hearing a knocking at his door and bade him answer whichever timorous person might seek his attention by tapping so lightly. I took advantage of the opportunity afforded me by the turning of his back and switched the flasks, each for the other. On the next day, the potions would be delivered and the merriment would begin.

The curtain twitched aside giving Lori a start.

“Professor McGonagall!”

“You seem surprised, Miss Scamander.” The professor’s characteristic severe expression glared at her from behind her square rimmed spectacles.

“Er, well, it’s just that Madam Pomfrey said she was going to fetch me something to eat. I am rather hungry, especially after talking to Minister Shacklebolt.”

“Ah!” McGonagall’s expression softened, turning a little apologetic. “You may have me to thank there, both for the visit and the delay.”

“Professor?”

McGonagall sighed. “After what you told me the last time we spoke, I went to my office and contacted the ministry. Minister Shacklebolt told me to do nothing and wait for his arrival — usual Ministry response, you understand. I wanted to apprehend young Maledictor, but he persuaded me to wait until he arrived.

“As I’m sure you’re aware you were his first stop. Then once he’d spoken to you, he came straight to my classroom demanding to see Raphael Maledicta. I sent a student to bring him from his potions class, only to be told that he had asked to be excused due to a stomach complaint. I sent my Patronus to fetch Madam Pomfrey who, when she came, informed me that Raphael had not come to the infirmary.

“I suspect the minister’s arrival may have precipitated his disappearance, but whether his intent is to escape or seek revenge on you is as yet unclear. I thought it wisest to come here immediately while others search the castle and grounds.”

“I’ve not seen him, professor. Then again, I can’t see a lot through these curtains.”

“Your clothes.” Professor McGonagall looked about her. “Where are your clothes?”

“I don’t know. When I woke up, I was already wearing my nightdress.”

The professor pulled the curtains back and started looking about the infirmary. “No,” she muttered to herself. “They were rather grubby. The house elves would have collected them, which means… Expecto aresto patronum.”

A silvery tabby cat leapt from the wand and turned to look at its conjurer.

“Find professor Sprout,” she told it. “Tell her to check Lori’s dormitory for the cloak.”

Lori grasped what McGonagall had in mind. “Professor, if the house elves returned my cloak to my dorm, how would Raph get past the wards to get it out?”

“You’ll recall he managed it before.”

“But Hortensia wouldn’t help him again…”

“There are ways and means, and if he’s desperate enough…”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll have heard of the imperious curse?”

“Surely, Raph would never do anything like that, besides he’s too young to learn spells like that, isn’t he?”

“Did he not already boast to you about his part in unleashing this mors mundani curse? If he’s prepared to go so far as to endanger the lives of students and staff here at Hogwarts, don’t you think he’d be willing to go a little further? It’s not a difficult curse to learn and I do believe he has the capacity to cast it quite effectively.”

The Fat Friar drifted through the wall. “Professor McGonagall,” he said upon sight of her. “Professor Sprout asked me to inform you that Lori’s uniform has been returned to her wardrobe washed and repaired, but that the cloak is missing. She says she found Hortensia Skunk sitting on her bed in tears. When the professor enquired as to the reason, she burst out something along the lines of, er, ‘He said he’d do it if I didn’t help him. He said he’d use the cruciatus curse on Morgana. I had to do it. I’m sorry professor but I had no choice.’”

“He most assuredly is not stupid, that boy,” McGonagall murmured. “Threatening to use an unforgivable curse is not that same as actually casting one. Thank you, father.” She spoke to the friar briefly before turning her wand on her throat. “Sonorus distributio," she said, then with her words echoing through the corridors outside, “Attention everyone. All students, you are to go to your dormitories, I repeat, all students, you are to go to your dormitories immediately. Prefects, you are to collect all first years in your house from their current classes and lead them to your house common rooms, then you are to take a full register to ensure everyone has returned.

“All Hogwarts teachers, the person you are seeking is in possession of an invisibility cloak, please act accordingly. Aurora, I wonder if you’d check upstairs from your classroom?”

She ended the spell then set about placing defensive wards about the bed. The two aurors outside the door were similarly casting spells and looking about them.

“Who’s Aurora, professor?”

“That would be Professor Sinistra to you, Lori. I’m playing a bit of a hunch as the first time I followed Raphael, he took the Bloodstone to the roof of the astronomy tower.”

“Oh, that’s clever.”

“Thank you.”

“Professor, you said my parents were here waiting to see me. Is there any reason they haven’t done so yet?”

“I’m sorry, Lori, again you’ll have to lay the blame at my feet. I told them I’d let them know when you were awake, but with all that’s been going on, it slipped my mind. Father,” she turned her attention to the Fat Friar who was drifting towards one of the walls, “Would you be good enough to drop into the guest wing and tell Mr and Mrs Scammander that their daughter is awake and eager to see them.”

“Of course, professor.” The friar drifted into the wall and away.

Professor McGonagall went back to setting wards. Lori lay back on her pillows and closed her eyes. From her awareness of the school layout, she knew it would take at least ten minutes for the message to reach her parents and for them to return.

She wasn’t tired though, so she reached for Randolph’s journal. She relit her wand drawing McGonagall’s attention. Seeing this, she turned the book to the elderly professor. “It’s kind of old and faded and the handwriting is awful,” she explained.

“Try these.” The professor removed her glasses and passed them across.

“Don’t you need them, professor?”

“I’ll have you know there’s nothing wrong with my eyesight. These are… Well let’s just say, if you’re planning on spending a lifetime marking young peoples’ homework, these would most certainly help.”

Lori placed the spectacles on her nose and looked back at the notebook. The writing remained faded, but it seemed to uncramp somehow and settle into a far more elegant flowing script that was instantly simpler to read.

“Thank you, professor.”

“You’re welcome young lady. Please let me have them back when you’re done.”

Lori turned back to the journal with renewed enthusiasm. She decided to see how much further she could read before her parents arrived.

I could not have hoped for a better outcome. From long conversations with the potioneer I had discovered his habit of visiting the royal chambers at cock’s crow on the first of the month in order to deliver these elixirs and, though it was not my habit to rise so early, on this day I contrived some excuse to be passing through that same part of the castle at that time. My reward for such dedication to my cause was the sound of an odd cry — a woman’s voice but some mix between scream and bellow of rage.

I took it upon me to respond and rushed into the royal bedchamber where I found a fair little thing, very much in appearance like the queen, though so enveloped in an overly sized nightshirt and dressing gown that she seemed but a child. In the bed beyond sat the very semblance of the king, near naked amidst the tattered remains of a silken nightgown. To one side my newest friend cowered in abject misery, averting his eyes as though it were shameful to look upon a man’s bare breast.

In truth it were the bare breast of our queen, but so far transformed there remained little to bring shame upon any who saw it. I feigned ignorance and addressed my king as though he were my queen, asking what had caused her to so cry out, for the voice could have originated from no other throat.

“Go to the door,” he, or perhaps rather she, told me, “and bar any other from entering.”

I did as I was bid, closing the door and turning the great key in the lock. Not a moment too soon, for there next came a great pounding upon the oak and a demand from the other side for it to be opened. It seemed I had beaten the nearest of the palace guard to the king’s side by mere seconds.

“Majesty,” said I, secretly delighting in the circumstance, “they will not be persuaded to depart unless they behold your face, and that you be properly attired.”

“I cannot be seen like this!” exclaimed the king, bearing now the full likeness of his wife.

“I most heartily agree,” said I, striding over to the wardrobe and drawing from it, after a brief search, a nightgown not unlike the one the queen’s manly form had torn asunder.

“I cannot wear that.” He sounded so much like the queen, I could scarce hide my glee.

Continuing my assumption of ignorance, I thrust it upon him. “But why not my queen? At this hour none would expect you to be full dressed. Here is a screen for modesty.” I indicated a wickerwork room divider that bore that very purpose.

The pounding continued more urgent than ever. In short order they would seek to break down the door. I watched with deep relish as the realisation washed through the king of his need to impersonate his wife. He took the gown from my hands and stepped behind the screen. I heard a whimper, possessing in equal parts shock and relief, and moments later my king emerged from his seclusion looking every part the queen. I had availed myself in the short span to snatch up the queens dressing gown, which my king now took from me and draped over his delicate shoulders.

“Stand back,” his womanly voice called through the door, and the pounding stopped. He unlocked the door and looked out upon the guard.

“We heard a cry, your majesty, is all well?”

“Forgive me,” The king’s smile held all the radiance of his wife’s. “As you see, the jester saw fit to call on us this morning. He brought with him a joke that quite alarmed me for a moment. As I’m quite sure is apparent, that moment has passed, and all is well. You are commended for your diligence, but do not permit this incident to detain you further.”

He closed and locked the door before rounding a stern eye upon me. “Ulric,” spake he, “for more years than I care to recall, you have born us these potions of yours without error and without fail. How came they to bring about this transformation?”

“In all honesty your majesty, I know not. Not since my days as an apprentice have I failed to take due care in the preparation of a potion, and in the matter of this particular draught I have always taken the utmost of precautions. The potions were correctly mixed, for you both stand transformed, but how they should have been so misapplied, I cannot fathom. I know I labelled them myself.”

“Were ought different at the time of preparation?”

“No, your majesty, safe that this good fellow kept me company while I worked.”

“And upon completion of your work, was there so much as a moment when your back was turned to them before you marked them?”

“I do not recall, your majesty, I am sorry.”

I would have allowed myself a sigh of relief in that moment had the king’s eye not continued to bear down upon me.

“Is there a way in which this transformation may be reversed?”

“I know of none, majesty.”

The king now looked over to his — now handsome — wife. “Then we shall have to bear that which cannot be undone. We are due a rest from court life, and it should not be seen as unusual should we seek to withdraw into seclusion for a month.”

“Your majesty, forgive me, but I fear it shall need to be considerably longer,” Ulric the potioneer could scarce utter the words.

“Why so?” This time the queen spoke, but with her husband’s voice.

“When potions are misapplied, they often act in a manner beyond prediction. I know of only once before when this self-same potion has been misused, an event that occurred to the master potioneer who trained me. He told me of it as a cautionary tale, of the dangers of acting out of rage.” The king’s face was a picture of impatience. Ulric noticed and after a flustered moment, chose to expedite his tale. “In short, there was a young man who acted in a manner most ungentlemanly towards the object of my master’s affection. In response he felt the man might benefit from seeing his actions from another perspective and, having just mastered this potion, he prepared a short measure of the lady’s draught with a mind that it should last no more than a week. In actuality the fellow was caught in his new form for near three months.”

I felt my blood run chill. For the jape to run a few short weeks gave opportunity for merriment. Much longer and the joke would turn swiftly sour.

“So, what does that mean?” the queen asked the question on all our lips. “Are we to take this form for a season?”

“My Liege, I cannot say for certain, but were I to hazard a guess, it would be in expectation of longer. I cannot say for sure whether the altered affect be linked direct or in some augmented manner…”

“Let the words out, man,” the king spake with full womanly petulance.

“My expectation at this juncture would be that the potion should last a year, majesty. I will be able to conduct a test and give a truer word in perhaps a few days…”

“I suspect you may find that difficult to do chained, as you will be, in the dungeon,” spake the king, anger raising in his voice.

I swallowed. Here was my fear, that such a fellow as Ulric should suffer for no fault his own. “Majesty,” I ventured, “you speak in haste. I beg you consider your servant for all the good service he has given.”

“In this instant I can think only of this great disservice, that I should bare this shame for all of a year. Retribution is owed and if I can find it nowhere else, then I shall find it where I can. For as long as my bride and I take each others’ form, so shall the man who brought this injustice upon us suffer alongside us.”

“Then let the punishment fall to me, your majesty.” I was not one to own to my misdeeds willingly, but Ulric was a kindly fellow and had done nothing to deserve punishment. I cannot say whether it was a lapse in an old man’s memory or a generosity of spirit that had protected me thus far, but it mattered not. I could not see this gentle soul committed to a dungeon where he would most likely die within the aforementioned year. “Ulric may not recall it,” in truth I had not so much as known the man’s name until the king uttered it, so ugly was the manner in which I had used him, “but in the moment the potions were finished, I distracted him, just long enough to switch the flasks. Had I not been present, no ill would have befallen your majesties.”

The king looked at me, and in gazing up from his shorter stature there was no less iron in his glare. “Why would you do such a thing, fool?”

“I fain your majesty has answered his own question, for this was but an act of foolishness. A joke that, had it lasted but a month as intended, might have offered enough opportunities for merriment. Wit there was in its crafting, for what wonders might there lie in the visiting of a realm that exists here alongside our own? What lessons might be learned, what experiences had, not so much from encountering something unsual as from seeing the entirely ordinary from a new perspective?

“Wit there was, but not wisdom, for I had not suspected this unfortunate effect from the misuse of a potion, nor had I realised how very unwise it is to dabble in the deep and mysterious waters of magic without knowledge. Majesty, your potioneer is innocent and if you must punish someone, let it be me.”

The queen stood from her bed, tying the remains of her nightdress about her waist. It offered her some little modesty but not so much that it entirely hid evidence of the incomplete transformation. She resembled her husband in almost every way, but in one small but significant exception, she remained the queen. She crossed to her husband and bent low to whisper in his delicate ear. All the while the king’s smile grew, though his eyes lost none of their fire.

At last, he nodded. “Very well. That which has no remedy must be endured, I have said this already. We cannot leave the kingdom without its rulers for all of a year, and so we shall exchange rolls, the queen and I. If we act well and are fortunate, we may pass through the experience with none knowing the truth of the matter but the four of us in this room.” He looked around, daring any one of us to disagree.

“As my wife has informed me, I shall have need of a lady in waiting, for no high-born lady can dress herself. In this I can choose no ordinary lady of the court, for she will in all likelihood catch sight of that part of me which is unchanged. And so dear Randolph, your jest will bite you as well as it has bitten us. Ulric, you are commanded to prepare one further draft of the sort intended for the queen, and Randolph shall drink of it. Thereafter he shall take on the role of the lady…”

“Arabella,” said the queen. “She is a distant cousin of mine and not minded to travel to Fareway.”

“The Lady Arabella. Fare fool, you and I shall become fast friends this year. I shall be about the queen’s business with you ever at my side, and together we shall learn what it means to live a woman’s life. Together we shall guard one another’s secrets while the queen guides our nation.

“And so I shall have my retribution, fool. For so long as this change is forced upon us, you shall remain in chains — not of steel, but of lace. For so much as I suffer this indignity thrust upon me, so shall you. Will you accept such a punishment to see your friend spared the dungeons?”

I dared not reply, for all the while the king expounded the solution the queen had whispered in his ear, I felt an uncommon feeling take me over. The very thought of joining the king in this venture filled my veins not with blood but with ice and fire, coursing through me and bringing me to such a breathless expectation, I feared my desire would stand plain enough to read upon my face. The pause stretched out as they awaited my response until I found it within me to bow my head. Keeping my voice quiet so as to disguise the quaver I knew hid within, awaiting its moment to betray.

“As you command, your majesty,” I ventured, then looked up into my king’s eyes. From the delight I found in them I can only imagine he considered my wavering tone to be some sign of dread at the punishment he intended for me.

The potioneer took much of the day to prepare my draft, during such time as the queen schooled first me then the king in the art of dressing a woman. The king also learned, else how was I to dress? It was their delight to humiliate me by placing me in such clothes as they could find might fit my slight frame. I was in no wise so small as the queen, but there dwelt within her closet such garments as might be adjusted to fit me. And so, whilst as fully a man as I have ever been, I was tied and laced into such clothing as the queen could find to make do.

I remained silent throughout, submitting to the humiliation they saw fit to mete upon me, and embracing within myself such a new sensation as I had never experienced. When at last the potion master returned with my draft, I took it to my lips and drank it down as though I had drunk nothing in some days.

The change was immediate. I felt myself shrink into my clothes, felt their fit settle about me. Perhaps the corset might have been a little tighter, but I was not so foolhardy as to suggest such a thing. I felt breasts of my own expanding to fill the empty cups within my undergarments. I felt my skin become soft and smooth and sensitised to the delicate fabrics now encasing me. I felt hair cascade with a suddenness down my back, and my face changed. I ran to the mirror, gathering my skirts about me and fair flouncing across the room. I felt my breath stolen from me as I marvelled at the beauty of the face looking back from the glass. It was in no wise the face I had born through life and yet there were hid within it some elements of the child I had once been.

That evening the king and I accompanied the queen to the throne room. I warrant we were each as nervous as the other in fear that we might be found out, though in truth no finer disguises were to be had, our secrets well hid — the king’s and mine beneath layers of skirts and petticoats while the queen had added such padding to her trews as might disguise what she lacked. Our sequestering had led to the day’s court being cancelled, and so it was that only the most urgent matters of state were brought to the fore. I placed a hand on my king’s bare shoulder when I sensed indignation rising in him that the questions should be addressed to his wife and not him, but she responded much as he would have, and so business passed to pleasure with little to note but that the court jester was absent. The queen made some excuse that I had been called away due to some urgent matter in my family. The murmurs of disappointment heartened me for a moment, but then the king rose and presented the Lady Arabella to the court.

Had I earlier felt fear that I should be discovered, ‘twas naught in comparison to the terror that coursed through me at the sight of so many hungry eyes drinking me in.

In the chase of love, man is predator and woman his prey. I had never once considered I belonged among the predators, but to be so plunged into the role of prey rooted me to the spot with trepidation. My reflection had told me earlier how very attractive I was in this transitory form, and now I saw that same beauty quicken the pulse of every red-blooded male present. Most assuredly every solitary male and no few married either. At once I glimpsed my year ahead, being pursued by one suitor after another. The king’s experience would be very different, being already married and beyond the reach of even the most foolhardy. I would need ever to be on my guard, for lust also draws a man to the chase and with less care for his quarry. I would need all my wit and no little help to survive the year intact.

Lori caught sight of the Fat Friar returning through the wall. He looked distressed as he indicated that Professor McGonagall should come to him.

While they conversed quietly, Madam Pomfrey arrived with a heavily laden tray. She allowed herself to be inspected by the aurors, though without much patience. Lori placed the book, wand and spectacles to one side, though more through concern over the whispered conversation taking place in one corner of the room than anticipation of her long overdue dinner.

Professor McGonagall glanced across at her, her ordinarily severe face drawn into a concerned grimace. She thanked the friar quietly and crossed the room to Lori’s bedside.

“Something’s come up that I need to attend to, Lori. I shall return shortly. In the meantime, you should eat.”

“Is it about my parents?”

“Allow me to find out. I shall let you know the details as soon as I return.”

The food was a welcome diversion. Despite her hunger, Lori forced herself to eat slowly, taking time over each mouthful and savouring the flavours and textures hidden within. It was a trick Annika had taught her that made eating much more of a pleasure and helped limit how much she ate. Her eating habits had fluctuated wildly in her early days at Hogwarts, beginning with her barely touching a bite as her self-consciousness stole her appetite. This then moved onto a short period, once she had found the freedom to relax and enjoy life, of embracing the Hogwarts feasts as an invitation to stuff her stomach full to bursting. Each forkful — and they were full — found its way inside without barely touching her teeth or her taste buds, and often she would spend some time afterwards groaning with discomfort. Once Anni had shown her the art of eating slowly, everything changed. Quite apart from anything else, slowing the rate of eating gave her insides a chance to register that they had reached capacity and report back to her brain. For a while she found herself leaving quite a large part of each portion untouched, then eventually she found herself reducing the amount she put on the plate. The result was balance.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to have compensated for her late arrival by stacking the plate high with enough to feed her for a whole week. Despite her ravenous hunger, the slow pace of eating left her feeling sated before she had consumed even a half. She placed her knife and fork together and pushed the plate away, taking a long draught of pumpkin juice to end. Pumpkin juice wasn’t a favourite with her. It was pleasant enough at first, but it left an odd after-taste which she didn’t much care for.

“You’ve barely touched it,” Madam Pomfrey chided gently as she collected the plate.

“I’m sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but I think you must have brought me Hagrid’s plate by mistake.”

Professor McGonagall chose that exact moment to return. Had the situation been any different she might have laughed, but matters were dire indeed. She waved Madam Pomfrey away with the half-eaten meal.

“Lori, I don’t want you to worry, but I’ve just been to the guest wing where your parents were staying, and they were not there. You’re a bright young lady and I suspect you noticed the exchange between the friar and myself a few minutes ago. He has a tendency to get agitated over the least thing, which is why I went to look myself. There are a lot of perfectly innocent reasons why your parents may be somewhere else. They may simply be walking around the grounds or visiting with old friends, or they may have been called away, though I’d have expected them to leave me a message in that case. We’re going to look for them as soon as we’re done searching for young Maledicta, but I would ask you to be patient.”

“Couldn’t you use sonorus distributio to ask them to come to the infirmary?”

McGonagall looked startled for a moment. “Now why didn’t I think of that?” She took out her wand and followed Lori’s suggestion. “Please bear in mind there are a number of places on the school grounds where they would not have heard that. Your mother liked to visit the thestrals, and the forest is beyond reach of that charm, as is Hogsmeade, so if they don’t turn up, it’s still nothing to be worried about, all right?”

“Are you worried professor?”

“Lori, anything that happens today which is even slightly out of the ordinary is going to worry me. Most things will turn out to be innocent coincidences, which I very much hope will be the case with your mum and dad, but I won’t be able to put my mind at rest until I know what has happened. I’d like you to leave the worrying to me for now, if you’re able. I will inform you as soon as I know anything different.”

“Would I be able to have visitors other than mum and dad in the meantime? Like my brother, or Anneka or Hortensia?”

“For now,” and here Minerva’s face took on a brief look of disgust, “the ministry has asked for you and your brother to remain apart until they have a full statement from you both. Your brother gave his while you were unconscious, and you had yours with the Minister of Magic earlier, so when things have settled a little, I’ll arrange for Lysander to visit, Anneka too.”

“What about Hortensia?”

“I’m not sure she’s ready to face you just yet, Lori.”

“I want to tell her it’s okay about the cloak. I’m glad she did what she did rather than risk Morgana getting hurt. It wasn’t really mine in the first place, and I don’t have much need for it when I have friends like her and Anni.”

The professor’s eyebrows shot up. “I shall see if I can persuade her then. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should join in the hunt for Raphael.”

Lori looked away from the professor’s receding back toward the journal and decided with some reluctance that it could wait. With a full stomach her body had moved onto the next thing it most needed, and she felt her eyes drooping. She settled under the covers and let sleep take her.

-oOo-

She woke in the dark with the ghost of the new day peaking in through the windows. Apart from herself, the infirmary was empty and the door into the corridor outside was closed. She lay still, wondering what had woken her, then reached for her wand. On a whim she cast felis sensorium on herself and the room around her brightened. She sniffed at her surroundings, the sharp smell of antiseptic overriding almost everything. She caught gentle hints of two people outside the door, their scents musky and masculine. She guessed they belonged to her two guards. Two other scents lingered, the stronger containing hints of something medicinal alongside a delicate floral scent that attempted to mask it — Madam Pomfrey she guessed. The weaker, lying at the limit of her ability to detect, brought hints of mint and grass, and belonged to Professor McGonagall.

With her dark vision enhanced, and at a loss for anything else to do, she picked up the journal. The words stood out sharply on the page but had returned to their cramped form. She reached for McGonagall’s spectacles and put them on, marvelling briefly at the sharp tips that had grown on her ears. Momentarily distracted, she explored the changes on her face with her fingers. She knew the pupils of her eyes would have turned to slits but apart from that, the greatest change appeared to be to her nose and mouth, although she also felt a downy, soft fur covering her cheeks.

She reminded herself that Randolph’s tale had reached an exciting part and turned once more to the open page before her.

What can I say of the year that followed? It passed all too swiftly, as times do that are eventful and much enjoyed. Were I to fill all the pages that remain in this journal with tales of my experiences that year, I would not cover a tenth part of the whole before I reached the final page, and for all that I cherish the memories, I feel it would serve little to the reason for my writing.

For all the privations pressed upon me by my new status, I found I was well matched to the life of a woman. I woke each morning with a fresh anticipation of the pleasures to come, and in this I found my king very much of a different mind.

“This is foolishness,” said he on our first day as I dressed him — and on many other days through the year, for he returned often to the topic. “Why are women’s clothes so designed that they need to be assisted into them?”

“I find a few reasons occurring to me, your majesty.” My reply came easily for I had already considered this matter. “In part I am sure it is for the appearance. In lower born women, clothes are made otherwise so that they may be donned without aid, and so it says to all that if you wear a dress that requires a maid to tie it closed that you are a person of means. It also places the ties and buttons beyond sight so the lines of the dress may not be spoiled by the fastenings that close it. There may also be some thought that, once dressed, a woman should not be tempted to loosen her attire, since the means to do so remain beyond her reach, and so once again her appearance endures at its best.

“As I am given to understand matters, women are less drawn to independence than men, especially among themselves, and so find pleasure in moments such as this when they are able to help one another, rather than frustration at having helplessness imposed up on them.”

“How is it you know such things?”

“A fool needs to be versed in all manner of understanding, your majesty, for the art or foolery lies often in taking unexpected paths, and for this breadth of knowledge is often of greater importance than depth, and so I take all opportunities to learn that present themselves.”

In those first days he would lace me as tight into my corset as he could manage with a mind that I should suffer the more, but our transformations were of a physical manner and he possessed no more strength than his form suggested. For that I am truly grateful, else I may have often fainted for lack of breath. The clothes were confining enough without effort to augment the suffering and he would complain through each day of his own discomforts. For my part, I found more pleasure than pain in my garb. I was ever delighted with my appearance once dressed and could do naught to keep the smile from my face, something which added further to the radiant beauty that had been gifted me and so gave me cause to smile all the more. For all their constriction, I was much taken by the delicacy of the material and the manner in which it caressed my soft and hairless skin as I moved, but most of all was I taken by the beauty they freely lent to any who wore them. Until the moment of my transformation I had never been much of a peacock and in all truth may have directed my sharpest barbs at such men as chose to preen overly much before the mirror but bearing the form of a woman I found a desire swelling within me to show myself off to best advantage. By contrast, the king would have displayed himself in a sack had I left him to his intent.

And beautiful as I was, I inevitably attracted the attention of a great host of men. The king was aghast that I should encourage this, and I find I am scarce able to explain my reasoning in the matter. Though I have known both men and women whose heart’s have drawn them to others of their sex, I have never experienced such desires myself. It shames me to confess that there was a time I’d have my fun with those caught in such pederastic and sapphic passions, but only until I became aware of the magnitude of misery caused by my jibes. Within myself I have never felt a like desire, but it seemed that my bearing the form of a woman awoke the essence of a woman within me and I found myself responding to the advances of men who, had they showed me similar attention in my usual form, would ordinarily have repulsed me.

Both king and queen were quite alarmed by my actions, for should just one of us be found out then the secret would be uncovered for all. I argued that it would seem more unusual for me to shy from all attention and, in the end, I agreed to let it be shared about that Arabella’s protective mother had only permitted her to come to the castle after she had made an unbreakable vow not to allow any man into her bed who was not her husband first. This lost me the attention of a great many, among them those I found most exciting, but there remained enough suitors who proved to be both kind and considerate and I found their attentions melting my insides with a delicious sensation that was altogether new to my experience.

Though we were spared such unpleasantness as monthly courses, the king and I still learned a great deal of what it meant to live as a woman, both the good and the bad. The king, caught up in his impatience to return to his natural form, focused on the bad while I, usually the more cynical of the two of us, found myself embracing the good in it and, for the first time in all my life, I found peace.

Then came the day the king had awaited a full twelve month and more. He awoke to find himself once more restored to himself and his good wife the same. When I came to their chambers, I found them both ready dressed. They had on occasions done this for one another, having found in it a means by which they could more deeply share their affection and so I thought little enough of it. The queen called for a full day’s court, and I thought little enough of that for there had lately been much to discuss. As was habitual, I attended with my king — or so I thought.

The last of the day’s business had reached its conclusion and all were anticipating a move toward revelry and feasting when of a sudden I felt a change within me. My corset tightened and I staggered as I fought for breath.

The king turned to me, and truly it was the king, his face bearing upon it a grin of no small malice. “Ah, Randolph,” said he in a strong voice, “I had wondered when you would return.”

All eyes turned to me, and my discomfort grew from merely physical to encompass my heart and mind also as all the court recognised who stood before them, now bearing Lady Arabella’s garb, and set about laughing. Not all though, and my eye was drawn to those gentle men who had treated me so well for so long and with such patience. I saw pain in their eyes where before I had seen little other than love, and I felt the sourness of the king’s prank played against me curdle within my constricted innards.

“But why are you so dressed?” Continue the king, still in high voice. “Is this the current style of your home now? It will not do for my court. Now go fetch your motley for we have been starved of your wit to entertain us.”

Given leave, I ran from his presence. Left alone, as I would have chosen to remain, I might never have divested myself of my clothing, but the queen was less cruel than her husband. She called for one of the lady’s of the court — formerly her lady in waiting and someone with whom I had formed a firm friendship — and bade her pursue me to my chambers. She knocked lightly at my door and asked quietly to be admitted. Strange irony that this should all start with the pretence of a gentle knock and end with a knock of such gentleness that I might pretend not to hear it. I had no desire to respond, for who, having been so shamed, would care to be seen? My ribs were at war with my corsetry though and seemed on the verge of defeat. I unlocked my door and admitted the young woman.

Without asking she set about easing my clothing. “That was cruelly done,” she said as she worked.

“No more cruelly than I have done to others,” I admitted, fighting the tears welling up behind my eyes. For all of a year I had thought nothing of allowing them their release when they came upon me and here I was, a few scant minutes returned to manhood — for all that my garb denied that — and I felt need to dam up my feelings.

“It is you I accuse,” she continued, and I heard the steely disapproval in her voice. Her nimble fingers had unbuttoned the dress which fell now about my ankles. She moved swiftly to the laces binding me in whalebone and linen and fought to loosen overly tightened knots. “I do not know by what means you affected your disguise, but I took you for a natural woman all this time. Does it please you that your actions make such a fool of me?” The knot gave and she set about easing the laces down the full length of the garment. I let out an involuntary gasp of relief at the sudden release. “And what of those young fellows you have been leading on? How do you think they feel in this moment? Or perhaps you do not think at all.”

I turned to her, my wit deserting me and leaving me without retort.

“Are you well enough served, Lord Fool?” Her words dripped with the rage I saw simmering beneath the calm of her expression. “Will you be able to divest yourself of what remains of your disguise? For I confess I have little desire to aid you further!”

I bowed my head, shame bearing down upon the already intolerable weight of misery brought by my transformation. I wanted her to understand I had intended no ill, but it was plain enough this was not the time. “You have already been kinder to me than I deserve…”

“For the kindness, thank your queen. I do as I am bid, though in this moment I am minded to do otherwise.”

“Then I have no further need of you.” I waited for her to leave then set about divesting myself of the Lady Arabella’s paraphernalia, folding it across such furniture I possessed. With motley retrieved from my wardrobe I donned clothes I had not so much as touched in over a year and all over again the weight of my misery doubled. I had no concept of where I might find cheer enough to bring merriment to the halls of my king.

I cannot say how long I sat, my head buried in my hands. It seemed for a while that I would drown in the blackness welling up within me, but I endured until it began to ebb, and from the depths so revealed I discovered the beginnings of an idea. No great idea, I’ll own, but one that might bring me some respite and, should I be so fortunate, perhaps redeem me in the eyes of those I had grown to care about.

I made my way to the laundry, for I had spoken truth to the king when I had told him that it is the business of a fool to know something of all business. There I found a group of seamstresses, many of whom I had spoken with as Arabella. I surmised the news of my return had reached them for they eyed me warily.

“Ladies,” I announced to them ignoring their mutterings, “I have need of your assistance in fulfilling my duty to the king. Perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what end is given to such garments as become too threadbare to be of use to their owners? I speak above all of such dresses as might be worn by elderly spinsters of the court.”

“Er…” One among them adopted the roll of spokeswoman. “It do depend sir,” she said. “Many a dress be not so worn as it would shame a woman of lesser status. Those we share among ourselves or pass on to our friends. Others still be too far gone and these is cut up to recover what material might be used for patching or the making of children’s clothing and that which still remains after be torn up for rags.”

“Ah,” said I. “It is the former of these that interests me. Garments that be just beyond the limit of respectable for a lady of the court but still wearable. In preference they would be of a size to fit myself and styled to the whim of an elderly lady, perhaps in her middle years or above. I would pay you good coin were you to have such — it is not my intent to take from you that which be rightfully yours. Also, if you have a mind to help in the matter, I should like to purchase a wig, again in an elderly lady’s coiffure and should it have seen better days this would also serve me well. If you should have means to lay it all before me within the next half hour, then I should feel obliged to pay twice.”

There is naught like the clink of silver to inspire the lower born to action. It took less than a quarter of the hour for them to have found all I had asked and some that I had not. Within the bundle of clothing presented to me there were such undergarments as an elderly spinster might wear, shoes and stockings also, all in a size close enough to fit my small frame. I happily paid over twice the value and hinted at more to be spent if they might help me to expand my wardrobe further. I then asked them to assist me in dressing. With the foundational garments, I could manage well enough and once modestly covered, there were those among them who shared my own pleasure in the invention of a new character.

Once dressed with the wig atop my head I felt something of the weight released from my shoulders. If I could not play the beautiful woman the potion had transformed me into, then at least I might play a woman and she might bring some ribald humour to the court and so find a place there.

“You should be made up sir,” the spokeswoman who had identified herself as Mollie said to me. “I have a little if you’ll allow it.”

“Not so much that it should mask who I truly am,” I said, “and badly applied as though done with a shaking hand and myopic eyes.”

“I know just what you mean,” she said with a smile and set about furthering my transformation.

The result was perfection, though perfection in a manner so grotesque as to cause many among them to recoil.

“My thanks to you Mollie,” I held the pitch of my voice high and allowed it to crack somewhat. “The Lady Rubella is indebted to you and your friends. Now if only I might find a stick to aid me in bearing these old bones about the castle.”

One of the younger girls placed a stick in my hand, as gnarled and twisted a thing as my new persona. I offered her a smile that was more grimace, already embracing the personality of my new self as she unfolded within me. I turned toward the king’s court and made off with a better turn of speed than may have been seemly for a lady of my position, leaving as many faces smiling at my departure as had frowned upon my arrival.

“Where is he?” I called out in my cracked voice as I entered the great hall. My abrupt arrival occurred in the middle of a display of acrobatics and near upset the pyramid they were in the midst of constructing. “Oh, did I interrupt something?” The bored expressions suggested nothing much. The bane of all acts of physical prowess, that it becomes difficult to find new material. In the end, no matter how astounding the feat, it is rendered banal by its similarity to all others that have gone before. In my profession there is always new material to be found should you be sufficiently diligent, just as there are always old favourites should the new material not be well received. “Well, carry on. Don’t mind me.” I turned away, ignoring their anger and called out again, “Where is he?”

I found and took hold of the arm of one of my erstwhile suitors, a young fellow named Jason whose features held more beauty than any man had a right to, and examined him from uncomfortably close. “No, not you,” I announced to anyone who’d listen — which meant everyone by now. “Not scrawny enough, though should you be free later, I do have a bed needs warming.” I wiggled my eyebrows in a grossly suggestive manner and turned swiftly away, ignoring both his recoil of horror and the laughter around me. I have observed in my short life that, while naught heals a broken heart but time, the symptoms of such an injury may be alleviated by the administration of a shock, be it good or bad. And where shocks are concerned, bad is always simplest.

The acrobats had all returned to the ground and joined those present in staring at me, however, their expressions did not retain anything of the good humour that was building about me. “Where…” I paused, glowering at them. “I thought I told you to carry on,” I said petulantly then turned from them and released so noisy a fart as I could find within. This met with a renewed laughter from the room. As I have said, there are always the old favourites and I have long since trained my body to act upon demand.

My eyes were drawn to the queen’s lady in waiting, now once more restored to her place following Arabella’s abrupt departure. I crossed to her as the laughter subsided, making much of climbing the dais upon which rested the thrones. I took her by the shoulders and drew her to me till our noses all but touched, though I well-marked the warning in her eyes. “No, not you either,” I complained querulously. “You could be no fool though you tried. Besides what reason could he possibly have for wearing a dress.” I released her and turning, bellowed above the renewed laughter, “Randolph where are you?”

“Madam,” shouted the king as he controlled his own mirth. “Could it be you seek my fool?”

“Of course not!” I shouted back. “It is my fool I seek. Why, how many fools do you keep about this place? Only a fool would willingly retain more than one, unless that is what you mean, for if you are such a fool then there would be more than one fool and that of course would make you such a fool.”

“What makes him your fool?” the king managed to ask past more choking laughter.

“Why, he is my nephew obviously. Do you not mark the resemblance?” With this I turned from him, lifted my skirts and released another resounding fart in his direction. Then looking coquettishly over my shoulder as yet more laughter bounded about the room I asked, “What is it leads you to believe he is your fool?”

“He has been in my employ these six years past, you old hag!”

“Well, you must not treat him well,” I responded, “for if you did he would not always be hiding from you.” I looked about the hall until I found the other young man who had shown me such generous attention as Arabella. Not so difficult a thing for he was tall, topping me by a full head and with such broad shoulders as would make any young lady swoon — even one who was neither so young nor a lady. “Randolph!” I cried, “There you are. Where have you been?” I bustled my way over to him and looked up into his face. “Have you grown a little since last I saw you?” A pause for the laughter to ease. “My, but you’ve grown so thin!” I tried squeezing a bicep and found I could not reach my hand halfway about it. “Come, give your auntie a kiss.” I puckered my lips, closed my eyes and reached for him as laughter swelled about us. Here was a risk, but even should he strike me, it would be well deserved on my part.

He surprised me though and took me in his own arms, planting a kiss of such ardent passion upon me that upon being released I staggered from him and near sank to the ground as my legs lost all their strength. Fortunately, the wave of laughter that filled the hall lasted a good long while, permitting me to regain my composure.

“Why, Randolph,” said I, breathless and disarrayed, “I had no idea you harboured such passion.” I patted my dishevelled wig and simpered for a moment, then taking my gnarled stick I poked him hard in the stomach, though not so hard. It is not wise to poke a bear, no matter how gentle his nature. “But what manner of behaviour is that? Is that any way to kiss your aunt?”

“Madam, you are mistaken,” the king called to me. “This is not Randolph. I sent him to his rooms not long ago, perhaps you might seek him there.”

It was a dismissal of sorts, but a dismissal none the less. “Very well,” said I huffily. “Far be it for folk to say that I should remain where I am not welcomed.” I turned to the hulking man beside me, took his arm and tugged at it ineffectually. “Perhaps you would show me the way?” I leaned hard giving the appearance of trying to shift him. He caught my intent and stood resolute.

“I fear I shall have need of Caleb here, my lady. There are servants about the castle to guide you, and perhaps when you find your nephew, you will tell him his king still awaits his return.”

I gave up my ineffectual struggle, wondering what I might have done had Caleb agreed to escort me, offered the king a low curtsy and departed the hall head held high and to resounding applause.

Returning to the laundry, I found friendly hands ready to help me out of my costume. I dressed back into my fool’s motley and removed most of the cosmetic from my face, all but for a deliberately misapplied and unsightly streak of lipstick which I now kept all the more to demonstrate my bungling efforts to deceive. I thanked Mollie and her friends profusely and asked if there might be a way of altering the dress so that I might put it on and off unassisted. I felt certain that this new character of mine would be disrupting the court often enough in the future and I would find it more useful, though less agreeable, to have means to transform myself unaided. Mollie took the dress and other clothing with a promise to see what she could do.

Back in the king’s hall, I made a performance of running from my aunt, the Lady Rubella, and hid behind the king’s throne where I let out such a long and loud release of flatulence as to renew all laughter in the room.

“Now I remark the family resemblance,” cried the king, ever ready to be a part of my jokes though rarely in a manner that added to the humour.

And so I was reinstated to my place beside the king. The short reprieve had served me well in bringing me back to some semblance of myself, and looking about the room, I caught the eyes of those I held dearest. Each offered me a nod and some semblance of a smile, even the queen’s lady in waiting graced me with a gentler expression. It was sufficient to ease my concerns.

Towards the end of the evening’s entertainment, the king called me close and whispered in my ear that I should pass by the royal bedchamber once all was done. In truth we had much to discuss, so I was not overly concerned. I awaited my dismissal and permitted myself a short respite in the gardens before keeping my royal appointment.

“We wondered if we might find you here.”

I turned to find Caleb and Jason standing before me. They had known each to be the other’s rival for Arabella’s affection and found a friendship within that competition.

“It was never my intent to hurt either of you, nor to shame you before the court. I wish there were some way I could show you that for certain.”

“We know.” This time it was Jason who spoke. In his face I saw a tenderness that felt oddly misplaced in our current context.

“And you need fear no retribution from us,” Caleb added. “We have spoken and agree between us that, whatever this was, you never misled us in our feelings for… you? Arabella? How does this work?”

“Call her by her name and not mine, for though we are one and the same, so also was I in nowise the person I am now while bearing her form. As to retribution, take it if you feel the need, for though intending no harm, I cannot deny having brought it to you both.”

“I cannot hate you,” Jason said with a soulful shake of his head. “All memories of the time I spent with Arabella are sweet, though I would ask, how came you to this?”

“For now, I do not know how much I may tell you, but if you will grant me a little patience, I will tell you all I can the moment I know what that means.”

“And what of Arabella? Will she return?”

“You ask that even knowing her true nature?”

He nodded.

“I cannot say. My heart hopes she will return, my mind fears she will not. Again, permit me but a little time and I will answer what questions I may. No more lies. I — that is to say the Arabella within me — I have great affection for you both and always hated that I should be forced into this deception.”

“And what of the Randolph in you?” Caleb’s turn.

At this I smiled. “You should know better than to ask,” I said. “All folk are equal in Randolph’s eyes. Now if you’ll excuse me, the king has requested my presence.”

The infirmary door opened and Professor McGonagall walked in with Madam Pomfrey close behind.

“What on Earth!” McGonagall exclaimed. “Finite incantatem!” she called loudly, drawing her wand and pointing it Lori’s way.

Lori could feel the strength of the spell as it drew the felis sensorium out of her. Her whole body prickled and her eyes were drawn to her arms as a matting of marmalade fur shrank back beneath her skin. She felt an odd sensation as a cramped and aching part of her at the base of her spine seemed to withdraw back into her body, easing a discomfort that had come on so slowly she hadn’t noticed it building. The room dimmed, leaving a pre-dawn light.

“What?” she asked.

“Something I really should have spoken to you about yesterday, Lori. Unfortunately, I was distracted by Mr Maledicta’s disappearance…”

“Did you find him?”

“We did not, however we are fairly certain he is no longer on school grounds.”

“And my parents?”

“Also still missing. To the best of my knowledge, they too are no longer on Hogwarts grounds.”

“But… where are they then?”

“We don’t know. We are still exploring a number of different avenues and will hopefully have some answers soon. I did say I would tell you as soon as we found anything out, and I am a woman of my word Lori.

“That being said, young lady, we need to have a talk quite urgently about your use of magic.”

“Okay.” Lori put her wand into the journal and put it to one side. McGonagall’s tone had her worried.

“You remember I told you there would be consequences for casting patronum maximus?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“You should know what those consequences are before you use magic much more.”

“Okaaay.”

“Patronum maximus is a spell of last resort. I believe you’re already aware of that, and I can’t fault your using it as you did. As with all spells of last resort though, there are lasting side effects.

“When you were taught the Patronus charm, you were told to focus on a happy memory…”

“Yes, but it’s not just about happy memories, is it?” Lori interrupted. “When I first entered the forest, I had trouble keeping my patronus together because every time I thought of a happy memory, I started thinking about the way the people in the memory were worried or in danger and I ended up being more afraid.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well, happiness is about all the good things that you hope for, and it seemed that if fear was weakening my Patronus, then hope should strengthen it. I remember Mum telling me once that hope isn’t actually a feeling, that it’s kind of a choice. So, I chose to hope. I chose to believe that things were going to work out, and the more I chose to believe in it, the brighter my Patronus became. That’s when it really pushed back the mist and the unicorn came to me.”

“Well, it seems you’ve learnt a truth at a very young age that evades most people throughout all their lives. At the heart of it, the Patronus charm is an expression of will, though in a controlled manner. Patronus maximus opens a channel that allows all your will to pour out unrestrained. It’s easy to overexert yourself casting that spell, which is what happened to you and why you were unconscious for so long. The force with which the will is expended is the difference between a gentle stream and a raging torrent. It causes an erosion within your psyche which can have unpredictable results when you cast spells, especially spells cast upon yourself.”

“What sort of unpredictable results?”

“Unexpected ones. When you cast felis sensorium on yourself, I imagine an hour or so ago, it was intended to give you cat-like eyes, ears and nose to enhance your senses, but in your case the magic continued to transform you, and when we arrived just now, you were a long way towards being turned into something very much more like a cat. If I hadn’t reversed the spell, and it took more strength than I think you could have mustered, then the transformation would have continued until, well I’m not sure what, but it would most likely have resulted in some permanent change, which would not have been particularly flattering.”

“Why would it do that?”

“You’re talking about a branch of magical research that isn’t well understood, Lori. Why are some people witches and wizards and others Muggles and Squibs? Why is it that having a wand makes it easier to cast magic, but different wands are more or less effective in the hands of different people? Why is it that children cast magic at random without a wand, but as they grow older most humans need a wand to cast a spell? Why is it that some creatures can use magic without wands, and the magic they use is typically not affected by our own?”

“You’re talking about house elves?”

“That is the example that springs to mind, though there are others.”

“So, what’s the answer?”

“Nobody knows for sure. There are some theories, but a great many learned academics argue over which ones may possess even a modicum of truth. The favourite at the moment, which does incidentally offer an explanation for the changes you’re experiencing, is that witches and wizards possess a sort of channel through which they can direct magic, a channel that is closed off in Muggles and Squibs. This channel is open in babies, but narrows and becomes rigid in early childhood. Different combinations of length, material and magical core give a wand a unique magical resonance. The matching of a wand to a person, such as Mr Olivander does in his shop, is the process of matching a wand’s resonance to that of an individual.”

“What I believe has happened with you is that the force of magic that you released when you cast patronum maximus damaged the channel inside you. In many ways it’s the same as it was, but it now has a tendency to leak, shall we say. This tends to happen a lot more with magic that you cast on yourself because the magic has to be maintained. While felis sensorium is in effect, you are constantly releasing small quantities of magic to maintain the change, only now you also have additional dribbles of magic adding to the original spell.”

“Which is why I had fur and a tail?”

“Yes. Lori, I am going to have to ask you to refrain from casting any spells on yourself for the time being. Do you understand?”

Lori nodded.

“Well, since we’ve managed to get that out of the way, I imagine you're hungry.”

Lori nodded more vigorously.

“In that case, I shall leave you to your breakfast then. Madam Pomfrey, if you would be so kind?”

Madam Pomfrey opened the door where Lysander was waiting patiently with a tray. The aurors, who had been subjecting him to a range of spells, stepped to one side and let him past. Both the youngsters’ faces lit up at sight of each other.

“I’ve had a number of requests from your friends who want to come and visit you Lori,” Professor McGonagall said as Lysander placed the tray on his sister’s lap. “I’ll be spacing them through the day and letting them in one at a time, so you don’t get too tired. Anneka will be bringing you your lunch and Hortensia your dinner. I hope that suits you.

“Thank you, professor.” Lori’s smile said it all.

“So.” Lysander sat, eagerly anticipating what was to come. “Tell me what happened.”

“You go first.” Lori bit into a slice of hot buttered toast. “I’m eating.”

The professor drifted off to have a quiet word with Madam Pomfrey.

“There’s not much to tell. The moment we joined our Patronuses I ran off to find Professor Longbottom. Once I’d told him what was going on he started rounding up a search party, which took forever. I kind of tagged along which meant I was at the edge of the forest when you did your thing.

“I could feel something was wrong with you, so when Hagrid charged off into the forest, I ran after. Mugglewump too, which… didn’t you say he hated you?”

Lori nodded over another mouthful of toast and made impatient circling motions with her hand. None of this was new so far and she was eager for her brother to get to a bit she didn’t know.

“Well, I have no idea how long it took us. Fortunately, Hagrid left such a trail through the forest it made the going easy, and all we had to do was follow the great crashing noise he was making. I had such a stitch by the time Hagrid slowed to a stop, but by then I had a good sense of where you were — thanks to your earring — so I just kept running, a little bit to the left of Hagrid’s path. I think he might have missed you but not by much.

“Anyway, he and the professor called after me and followed. We broke into the clearing where we found the rather grisly remains of the Dementors’ last meal…”

“The unicorn?”

“I think so, and a rather gory looking cauldron. I followed the feeling this gave me,” he held up the earring, handing it back, “and tripped over you before I realised — sorry, I think I may have bruised your ribs a bit. I pulled off your cloak and there you were, curled around that stone box, clinging onto it as though it was the most important thing in the world.

“You looked dead, Lor.”

“I’m sorry.” Lorry played with the earring.

“Hey, it’s cool; you weren’t. Hagrid picked you up and the professor took the box, opened it to check on its contents — sorry by the way, I didn’t have a chance to recover the other earring — then we all headed back out. Met Longbottom and the rest of the party on the way. By the time we reached the edge of the forest we found Flitwick arguing with a bunch of ministry wizards. There wasn’t much else I could do so, with the mist gone, I headed for the owlery and sent an owl to Mum and Dad.”

“Have you seen them since they got here?”

“Yeah, pretty much every day since.” He looked worried.

“Lye, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Well, they wouldn’t just up and leave like McGonagall’s saying. I wanted to check their room, but there’s aurors guarding it now. I’m worried, Lor.”

Girls’ Changing Room – Chapter 12 – Randolph's research by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021

-oOo-
“When was the last time you saw them?”

“Yesterday morning, actually. McGonagall had told them you’d woken but were exhausted, so they invited me to join them for breakfast. We were all going to come down to see you afterwards, but then there was that announcement about Raphael escaping and I had to go back to my dorm.”

“Did you tell Professor McGonagall that?”

“No. Why should I?”

“Because she’s been trying to convince me that the reason mum and dad weren’t in their room was because they’d wandered off into the forest or down to Hogsmeade. They’re not likely to have done that immediately after breakfast with you when they were planning on coming here, are they?”

Lysander’s worried expression deepened, and he hopped off the bed, heading for Madam Pomfrey’s office. He returned with the headmistress a minute later and the twins explained what they’d just been talking about.

McGonagall’s lips pinched into a narrow line. “Wait here,” she instructed them both and marched out of the infirmary.

“So go on,” Lori said after a moment. “We can’t do anything till she gets back, so tell me the rest of the story.”

“Well,” Lysander felt a reluctance to continue talking. “Pretty much the same time Mum and Dad got here, a team of specialists from St Mungo’s also arrived and started working on everyone else. There was an announcement later in the day that they’d found a way to draw out whatever was affecting everyone’s breathing, and by dinner time almost everyone was back at their tables, including McGonagall who made some announcement asking for patience and saying the school would be sending owls to everyone’s parents, so not to do it ourselves.

“After I’d eaten, I came back here to the infirmary and, with you being the only patient left, Madam Pomfrey let me stay a while, then sent me to my dorm. She said she’d send me word when you woke up, so I kind of tried to fit back into the school routine while at the same time spending as much time as I could with Mum and Dad. It’s been really great having them around, except for you being stuck in here of course.

“Breakfast in the great hall has been mayhem this week. We’ve had so many owls every morning I’m amazed there’s been room for them all in the owlery. As for picking owl feathers out of my scrambled eggs… not a fan.”

Lori managed weak smile.

“Anyway, that’s what happened to me. Now it’s your turn.” He picked up the breakfast tray and put it on a nearby bed so Lori had no excuse.

So she recounted her adventure in the forest, Lysander interrupting every so often to ask questions and both of them glancing across at the door, waiting for McGonagall’s return.

Madam Pomfrey came over to them after a while and stood to one side, listening, allowing the tale to reach its end, then she shooed Lysander out, telling him he was later for class.

“Madam Pomfrey, we were waiting for Professor M. She told us both to wait,” Lori said.

She looked uncertain and had just opened her mouth to speak when McGonagall returned. She had not lost the grim expression she’d worn on the way out.

“I promised you news as soon as I had some. Poppy, would you give us a minute? I had hoped your parents would turn up but given your recent information I decided to try a few things.”

“What sort of things?” Lysander asked.

“Spells that might help me understand what’s going on, young man, and this will go a lot quicker if you’d keep from interrupting.”

“Sorry, professor.”

“I tried everything I could think of, including a number of things I know full well the ministry wouldn’t be too happy about — that’s why it’s taken me this long. In the end I was chasing will o’ wisps, but against all the odds, I caught one.”

“What did you find professor?” This time it was Lori asking.

“House elves. There’s evidence a house elf apparated into your parents’ room and then disapparated, presumably with them. I suspect that’s how Raphael escaped as well. I’ve informed the ministry and they’ve promised me they’ll be following up on it.”

“Follow up on what?” Lysander asked. “I mean, there hasn’t been a rogue house elf since Dobby. Besides, don’t the castle house elves pop into the guest quarters to change the beds and stuff?”

“They do, but each house elf has a sort of flavour to his or her magic. We know this house elf is not part of the Hogwarts retinue.”

“Then who?”

“The ministry will be checking the Maledicta’s house elves. If we find a match, then it’ll give them cause to investigate further. I’m confident we’ll get to the bottom of this by the end of the day. In the meantime, Lysander, the best place for you is in the classroom.”

“I can’t believe there are still lessons going on,” Lori said.

“And just what else would you do with a school full of boisterous young girls and boys?”

“I don’t know,” Lysander chipped in. “It feels like we should have time to recover.”

“Nothing like a taste of normality to help that along. And speaking of recovery and normality, assuming nothing more happens that might be a cause for concern, Madam Pomfrey tells me she should be able to let you return to your friends and your lessons tomorrow morning, Lori.”

“And what am I supposed to do till then?” Lori had been hoping she’d be let out sooner.

“Well, as I’ve said, you’ll have a few visitors later in the day. In the meantime, if you don’t feel like resting, it looks like you still have a bit of reading to keep you occupied. No spells, mind.”

Lysander and the professor withdrew, taking the tray with them. Lori wasn’t tired which left her with nothing better to do than pick up the journal. There was enough sunlight that she decided she could make do without lumos.

“I am come, my king!” Thus I announced myself as I pushed my way past the guards and into the royal chamber. “As I was bidden, so I am come.”

Strange how one good performance and the forgiveness of two friends so recently thought lost should restore such good humour. The ache of my recent loss remained and yet I felt no longer consumed by despair, but rather filled with a hope and determination that one day, and soon, I should regain that which had been torn from me. For the moment Lady Rubella would suffice, but I held to a certainty that the Lady Arabella would one day return.

“A good day, Randolph,” said the king. “A great day in truth, when I might prank my own fool.”

“Majesty forgive me,” I responded, bowing low, “but it was my understanding that we should seek to keep the matter between us a secret.”

“Mine also,” spake the queen. She sat upon the bed with a bearing of haughty disapproval, and here was the reason for it.

“I know, I know,” chuckled the king, “but I could scarce allow such an opportunity to pass me by. Tell me it was not funny.”

“As you will it then so it shall be,” the queen snapped, “though ‘t’was done in very low taste and with no regard for those innocents who would be most damaged by the jest.”

“Do you agree with this, Randolph?” The king’s rare use of my name — not once but twice now — spoke volubly of his good humour.

“Majesty, I believe her majesty refers to my lords Caleb and Jason who would likely be embarrassed by the revelation that they had spent much of this past year courting a fool, and her majesty’s own lady in waiting who had shown the Lady Arabella no small amount of friendship. To discover oneself so betrayed is one matter, to do so in such a public manner is quite another.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“Perhaps,” the queen took on the charge, “but when it becomes known that not only was your fool transformed this past year, but the king and queen also, what reaction might there be? We shall lose the trust of all our people and then we shall see how well you like your little jest.”

“Then, your majesties, let it not become known.” I’d been thinking on the matter and an idea had occurred.

They both turned quizzical heads in my direction.

“My king, my queen, in my early days as the Lady Arabella, I recall overhearing sufficient gossip within the court that fool Randolph had formed a new friendship with Ulric the potioneer shortly before his disappearance, and perhaps therein lay the mystery of his vanishing. Perhaps he had performed some jest in poor taste and the old man had dealt with him in kind.

“He is a secretive soul but much liked, so the rumour vanished as mysteriously as did I, but the memory of it remains. Now that I am returned let it be uncovered that I, having observed Ulric’s manufacture of your majesties’ golden potion, rashly took a hold of one and drank it myself. By misfortune I was transformed into the Lady Arabella and, with no hope that the effect might be reversed except by the passage of time, your majesties permitted that I might live the length of my transformation in the guise of that good lady, that I might remain in the employ of the queen as her lady in waiting to aid in the subterfuge until such time as the potion’s effect might run its course.

“We all held hope that my transition back might come gently and with some warning, but when it came about so abrupt and in so public a manner, the king’s only recourse was to make light of it.”

“A fine tale, Randolph!” exclaimed the king.

Even the queen’s expression softened. “It would cushion the blow dealt to Mirabelle and to Caleb and Jason for, were you under the king’s command not to reveal the truth of your identity, then circumstance would be that you had not willingly fooled them, but unwillingly kept from them a difficult secret.”

“Then let this be the truth of the matter so far as history recounts it,” the king said. “And Randolph, I have further news to gladden you, for it seemed wise to ensure that such a thing as has befallen us should not occur again. To this end, I instructed the Master of Potions to alter the golden draught such that there might be only one recipe which, whether drunk by man or woman, would bring about in them a change that altered them solely by their nature.

“When the queen and I awoke to find ourselves returned to our true forms this morning, we called upon Ulric to bring us the means to grant us our fairer aspect, even before you came to our chambers. He thus proudly presented to us the fruits of his year’s labour and, though marginally less effective than the former draught, the queen and I consider it to be well enough. Thus agreed, we commanded that the original recipe be destroyed, and that Ulric never more speak of it to anyone.

“Dearest fool, though this jest must remain a secret between us, I will declare here and now that it be perhaps your greatest. A year in my wife’s skirts has taught me a far greater respect for womankind than I have known, and furthermore an understanding of the frustration the fairer sex endures in having no say in matters of importance. A year in my britches has proven that such a lady as my wife may rule as well and fairly as any man. Though neither of us would be subject to such a transformation a second time, we are both glad of the lessons this last year has taught us.”

Queen Laramy came to stand by her man. “Though it seems we cannot reward you publicly for this service, Randolph, we would like to do so in private, so ask of us anything and we shall see if it may be granted.”

All the while the king had spoke I had felt the hope to which I clung crumble about me. Here at the last was a handhold and I took it in firm grasp.

“If it please your majesties, I would ask that I might have the recipe for your golden draught in its original form.”

“To what end Randolph?” the king barked with a laugh. “Would you seek to repeat this jest on others of my court? I am sorry, friend, but here is one thing I cannot permit. I will have no more of this potion in my kingdom.”

“Then I can think of nothing else I desire, your majesty.”

“Then guard for yourself this promise of a royal boon. When you have at last decided upon something that we may allow, then ask again. I shall consider any request you make and, so long as I can see no mischievous intent therein, I shall grant it.”

I bowed low at this and asked that I might be excused.

“Aye, we are done, though I feel minded to caution you. For all that it turned out well, your jape placed the kingdom in deep jeopardy, and I am serious in this matter. There shall be none more of this potion in the kingdom and you will not pursue it further. Are we clear on this?”

I held the king’s eye for a full few seconds and managed a nod.

“Then we are truly done, and you have your liberty.”

I turned to leave, though stopped short of the door as my king spoke once more.

“This harridan aunt of yours, Randolph. Will she be gracing our courts again soon?”

“I fear so, majesty.”

“Perhaps she might learn to respect her betters a little.”

“Majesty, she holds the opinion that none be of greater import than herself. I doubt I shall be able to change her manner by much.”

“Do what you can to curb her ways, fool. If it be not enough, I may be compelled to have her expelled from the court.”

It is by such means the king has sought to limit my excesses through the years. Should I ask a favour, he would always consider carefully whether I might misuse it, and almost never grant precisely what I asked. Should I take some too great a liberty, he would rein me in with a quiet admonishment and perhaps a gentle threat. Perhaps he felt the need to establish his dominance over me, perhaps it was I who needed to be dominated. Whatever the truth, his words weighed heavily that day.

“Hello Lori. I hope you don’t mind the interruption.”

Lori smiled up at Professor Longbottom standing at the foot of her bed. “Not at all professor. It's kind of lonely in here by myself.”

“That’s good.” Neville sat on the edge of the bed and smiled warmly. “I mean good that you’re happy to have visitors, not that you’re lonely. I just wanted to check on how you are, but I can see you’re mending well. You know, what you did was rather foolish?”

“Yes professor, that’s what everyone's telling me, and I do agree with them. The thing is, it had to be done and there was no-one else.”

“Which makes it very brave as well. It reminds me of some friends of mine when I was a student. You know, you'd have done well in Gryffindor.”

Lori smiled. “Yeah, but the whole house thing is a bit of a nonsense, isn’t it? We all have some part of every house in us, don’t we? Even Slytherin.”

“You’re right, and if you look at it that way it doesn’t make much sense.

“I always used to wonder why the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor. The sort of timid little thing I was when I first came here, I was convinced I belonged in Hufflepuff, but that was because I was thinking about it all wrong.

“The Sorting Hat doesn’t put you in a house based on your greatest strength. It does so based on your greatest need. I needed to be surrounded by brave people in order to find my courage. I think you know why it put you in Hufflepuff.”

“Why does it put people in Slytherin then? I mean what greatest need do they have?”

“I think you know that too. You've learnt about the four founders of Hogwarts. Godric Griffindor valued courage, chivalry and determination above all things. For Roweena Ravenclaw it was wit wisdom and intellect. Helga Hufflepuff was all about hard work, dedication, patience, loyalty and fair play, all of which you’ve benefited from since you came here, and lastly Salazar Slytherin felt ambition, cunning and resourcefulness were of greatest importance. They didn’t agree with each other on a lot of matters, just as I’m sure today’s professors don't, but they did realise that it takes all sorts to make a world, and Slytherin has produced a great many famous and worthwhile wizards and witches. For instance, did you know Merlin himself was a Slytherin?”

“I thought Merlin lived before Hogwarts was founded.”

“Ah, there's the Ravenclaw in you. Indeed he did – nearly five hundred years before. But Salazar Slytherin is reputed to have said that Merlin was his principal inspiration, so most people think it still counts.”

“Does that make King Arthur a Gryffindor then?”

“Perhaps, though I don’t recall hearing of Godric claiming to have been inspired by Britain's greatest king.

“Anyway, I have taken up enough of your time, and if I’m not careful I shall be late for my next class. I just wanted to see for myself how you are and I'm glad to see you on the mend Lori, very glad.”

“Thank you, professor. Er, Proffessor Longbottom?”

Neville paused and turned back.

“I'm worried about my parents, professor. They were staying in the guest quarters and disappeared about the same time as Raphael. Professor McGonagall said something about house elves from outside Hogwarts being involved. She was going to let me know when there were any developments, and I was wondering if she's found out anything more yet.”

“When did she say this to you?”

“Erm, this morning at breakfast time.”

“It’s only eleven o’clock, Lori. Professor McGonagall is a very busy person, especially at the moment. Be patient. If she made a promise, she’ll keep it.”

“Yes professor.”

“I will ask her about it when I next see her though.”

“Thank you, professor.”

In the short interlude Lori hadn’t even put down the journal.

Given my leave, I departed the royal chambers and ran with all haste direct to the potioneer’s rooms. The king’s admonition had tied my insides into a stubborn knot, and I found I had no intention of obeying my king. For all that, turning to Ulric seemed a forlorn hope, though I had to ask.

“I am sorry, Randolph,” he said to me. “The king required that I make an unbreakable vow and swear never to reveal the secrets of those potions, also to destroy my notes and never to make it again. Even were I of a mind to help you I could not without risk to my life.”

“And the original recipe?” I asked. “What has become of that?”

He indicated a brazier, the stench of which was uncommonly repugnant even for his rooms. Upon its glowing coals lay the shrivelled, blackened and hideously reeking remnants of a parchment sheet. In desperation, I reached in with bare hands and snatched it out, whereupon it fell to the floor and ceased burning.

Ulric shook his head sadly and lifted down a jar of ointment with which he eased the pain in my fingers. “It’ll do you no good. By the king’s command, I cast it upon the fire this morning. True parchment such as this is highly resistant to flame, but as long a time as it has spent on the coals, I hold little hope that it may retain even the smallest part of the knowledge writ upon it.”

Whilst his gentle balm eased my scorched fingers, he could see plain in my face he had no ointment to settle the growing ache within me. “It means that much to you?” he asked.

I had no breath to speak. All I could do was nod.

“But why? I cannot see that the loss of a mere prank should cause such anguish.”

Still the words would not come. I now took to shaking my head. Even had I been able to speak, I fear I would not have found it in me to admit to the truth I had uncovered in myself.

He was wise though, this potioneer, and compassionate. Mayhap he saw enough.

“Perhaps you would care to look at the new recipe,” he said reaching to a different shelf for a piece of parchment paper. “I am not so fond of this material for writing,” he continued as he unrolled it and held it in place with convenient weights. “The cost is far less than true parchment, but it does not endure so well.”

“I thought you had vowed not to speak of it.”

“Of the old recipe I cannot speak, but this new one does not bind me. By chance it is much the same. A few ingredients removed to be replaced with powdered root of ginger and all enhanced with the skin of a particular venomous snake, but that is all.”

“All of this is the same? All but the one ingredient added?”

He chuckled. “And several removed. Of those I cannot speak of course.”

“Then what use is this?”

Ulric smiled, somewhat ruefully. "The king has not forbidden me from telling any who might be interested how pen strokes may sometimes be recovered from the charred remains of burnt parchment. I would caution against overly raising your hopes, but perhaps even such a blackened skin as this might be persuaded to offer up some of its secrets. Should you be truly fortunate, there may be enough.”

Here was an act of last resort, but what else could I do? My last hope for discovering the secret I so desperately longed to own lay hidden within this old man’s craft.

The process was lengthy and delicate, a skill I needed to learn before attempting it with anything of import. I put to one side the blackened scroll that held my last hope of happiness and set to in earnest learning the skill the potion master offered me.

Many months passed by. The seasons turned. Through windswept Autumn and bitter Winter, I learned this very small part of the potioneer’s craft. Every moment the king did not require me, I spent in Ulric’s chambers. For as much as he could spare time to teach me, so I would learn. For the rest, I practised and grew adept. As Spring brought forth the first inklings of renewed life, Ulric declared me ready, and I set about the lengthy process of restoring — as much as might be possible — the lost instructions.

For such a damaged document, the process was slow and painstaking. Ulric would not permit me to work on it in his laboratory, though he turned a blind eye to my acquisition of such glassware and reagents as I needed for my work. The first task was to soak the sheet in certain oils to restore such suppleness as might be retained — this in itself took more than a month. Next with the parchment once more stretched on a frame, I set about dabbing at it gently with solvents to remove the charring which obscured the writing. This took endless days and summer waned before I was done.

Even with my best efforts — which I knew to be good, the instructions themselves were beyond recovery, as was much of the list of ingredients. Of the latter, sufficient became legible to make out what I knew should already be there.

The wings of thr… …airies

… morn… dew.

One fr… …ucked rose. This one caused me some pause.

… dy’s Mantle

Un… …rn hair.

Mixed throughout in no discernible order, sometimes full readable, other times part obscured, were six further components. I recall the thrill of excitement as I read what I could. Two were clear and complete and a third, even from what little I could see could be only one thing. That left three remaining in some degree of obscurity. One spoke of a handful of… but then the word remained entirely hidden and I knew naught but that it was short, possessing no more than four or perhaps five letters. The remaining two showed enough letters or parts of letter that I could guess at what might be there, though in each case I found my mind filling with suggestions of what might be.

When I had done all I knew to do, I painstakingly copied the exact image of the restored scroll onto a page and placed it within my journal before seeking out Ulrick for further advise. Like the eager pupil I was, I returned to him expecting some sign of approval, but the instant I handed him the fruits of my labours, his face blanched.

“I wish you had not shown me this,” he said. “By my vow I am compelled to destroy it.” He stepped towards a nearby brazier, ever present in his rooms and ever lit during the colder months, and he cast the charred parchment upon the coals. The oils I had spent so long soaking into the dried leather flared into a flame.

“No!” I cried and stepped forward only to be stopped by a surprisingly strong arm in one so old. “Why would you give it to me to work on in the first place?” I begged him, all the while looking on helpless as the flames consumed all of my last year’s work.

“I have found hope alleviates despair, Randolph. Whether it be false hope or no, it may still lessen the pain until such time as it may be endured. I had hoped it would do this for you, my friend. Had I thought for a moment that you might recover so much from this scrap of parchment…

“I am sorry Randolph, for dashing your hopes in this instant, and just as much for what I must now do.” Satisfied that the page had been reduced beyond recovery, he let go my arm and hurried from the room.

I could do naught else but watch and even as I did so the oils burnt through the last of the leather, flaring orange. For an instant that part of the page which bound to the ink or lay still depressed under the pressure of the quill burnt swifter than the surround and for a brief part of a second, the full inscription lingered before my eyes.

Scarce believing how my fortune had turned at the last, I ran for my own rooms, repeating over and again what I had just read. I closed and barred the door behind me, unwilling that anyone or anything should interrupt me, and reached for the parchment tucked within my journal that I might complete the list.

I am not so tidy a scholar as some, and I had barely trimmed and loaded my quill when there came a pounding upon my door. My first thought was to ignore it and I had committed to my page the name of that one ingredient that had remained totally obscured until now.

“Open this door in the name of the king!” came the burly cry of a royal guardsman.

A thought occurred. Whether it were good or no I cannot say. I summoned the querulous tones of the Lady Rubella and cried out, “Leave me to my rest you blundering buffoon, or I’ll have your head on a pike!”

It purchased for me a few scant seconds in which I added to the parchment, completing the first of the no longer incomplete and ambiguous ingredients.

“The king commands your presence immediately, fool!” Evidently a guard with wit enough to think past my ruse. “Open this instant or I shall be compelled to break down your door!”

Another thought. “I shall require a little more than an instant,” I called out in my own voice, “unless you think it would please his majesty to have his fool brought before him displaying more than a lady might wish to see.” I release some of my ever-present flatulence in case he had not the wit to interpret my euphemistic manner.

I did not wait for his reply but continued adding to my notes, completing the second incomplete entry.

“Be swift about your business. I’ve no patience and the king even less. You have until the count of three else I’m through that door and dragging you before the king, bare arsed or no!”

My time had all but run dry, as had my ink.

“One…”

With what little remained in the nib I scrawled one last, barely legible note, for the third incomplete entry, the one I had felt certain I knew, had proven a surprise.

“Two…”

I cast a scattering of pounce upon the page and closed it into my journal before turning to the door.

“Three!”

I unbarred it and pulled it open in the same instant the guard’s shoulder made contact. I had the small pleasure of watching him unbalance and fall into the room. Then, while he regained his feet and his composure, I made a show of arranging my clothes and, turning my back to him, loosed a few breaths of foulness in his direction.

“My sincerest apologies,” I said maintaining as impassive an expression as I could, “but you rather rushed me. Would you care to lead or follow?”

He stormed out of my chambers and was forced to wait while I made some issue of locking and checking my door.

“If you’re done with your foolery, be good enough to walk this way,” said he, eyes narrowed and searching for insincerity in my face.

Of course I was not done with my fooling, and rarely have I ever been offered such an opening. I made a show of imitating his lumbering gait, much to the amusement of every servant we passed. When I sensed his patience at the point of tearing asunder, I feigned exasperation in my own part.

“What!” exclaimed I. “Did you not ask me to walk this way?” At which point I exaggerated his mannerisms all the more.

“I did not mean…”

He swallowed his rage which, by his complexion, did him no good at all. We were within sight of the royal apartments by then, so I scampered off ahead of him and through the door.

“My apologies, majesty. We would have been here sooner, but this fellow is so slow!”

I delighted in the indignation on the guard’s face, put took greater heed of the storm clouds looming above the king’s head. Ulric stood nearby, seeking the anonymity of the shadows.

King Laramy dismissed the guard and turned my way.

“What is this I hear of your seeking after forbidden knowledge, fool?”

He was in no mood for foolery. When I had encountered him so out of sorts previously, I had found only honesty and forthrightness offered a fair defence against his anger.

“Sire, I felt there was no harm…”

“As I recall, I made my position on the matter entirely clear. I understand Ulric told you of the restrictions I placed on him. How could you think it acceptable that you should research this matter for yourself?”

“That you bound your potioneer but not your fool,” said I perhaps too rashly.

“I would have thought you capable of a wittier response than that, but if you stand by it then let it be corrected now. Take my hand.” He held out to me his left. In his right he held his wand.

“Your majesty…”

“Your hand!”

“You granted me a boon.”

“And I would counsel you to keep it a while longer, for I am not done with you. Your hand!”

The incantation for the unbreakable vow is tedious, suffice that he cast it upon our joined hands.

“Swear to me that you will cease this foolishness…”

“Sire, do you think it wise to bid a fool to vow not to be foolish?”

“You know of what I speak, and be wary of interrupting me a second time, fool. I am in no mood to show charity.

“Swear to me that you will no longer seek to recover this lost knowledge, that you will not attempt to create either potion, that you will neither speak nor write of what you have discovered thus far, nor show what you have written to another soul. Swear it!”

Here was a moment to pause and make good use of my mind, for though I have no great talent with magic, I understand its manner well enough. The oath made under an unbreakable vow is ultimately binding, but cleverly worded it might offer some loosening of the ties. That being said, I could not be too clever with my words lest my king suspect me of seeking to undermine his intent and so cast a second spell to bind me more strongly still. I let loose a sigh of defeat, all the while my mind whirling, seeking some way of easing the restrictions he sought to place on me

“I swear that I will make no further attempt to recover the components of this potion that Ulric has destroyed.” This much was easy since I had already discovered all I needed to know. “I swear that I will make no attempt to fabricate either of these potions with malicious intent.” Here was my room to wiggle, for I truly had no malicious intent in my research. “And I swear neither to speak nor to write of my discoveries, nor show them to another soul.” The last given as near as possible in his words that his attention might be drawn from the previous part. It would be hard. I would no longer be able to write of my discoveries, nor would I be able to leave the parchment with my most recent scribbling in plain sight. As the oath settled on me, I felt a growing need to hide it — bearable for now since it lay within the pages of a closed book inside a locked room.

“Swear also to destroy any written record you may already have penned on this matter.”

This would make it harder still. “I swear to destroy my writings of the ingredients I have recovered.” They would remain locked in my memory for there were only six, but I would have no way to communicate them. The urge to deal with the parchment in my journal grew within me.

The king returned his wand to his belt. The stern expression on his face remained. He glanced across at Ulric, who passed him a vial of clear liquid.

“Do you know what this is?” the king asked me.

“I might hazard a guess, though I have not your potioneer’s breadth of knowledge.”

“It is veritaserum and you are about to take three drops upon your tongue.”

Again, I had no choice. When the king desired something, the king was given what he desired. He uncorked the vial and indicated that I should open my mouth.

Three drops. They fizzed upon contact but otherwise possessed no flavour. I felt nothing different for having been given them.

“When I informed you that the original potions and the instructions for their manufacture had been destroyed, what was your understanding of my will in this matter?”

“Your will was that there should be no more of the potion in your kingdom.” It came as a surprise to me how readily the words sprang to my mouth. They were out before I could either trap them or change them.

“And what was your immediate response?”

I fought to contain the words, to hold them back before they made their escape, but I may as well have attempted to tear down the castle with my bare hands for all the effect I had. “I went directly to Ulric’s rooms with a mind to recover the means of fabricating the potion.”

I feared the next question for the manner in which it might implicate my friend, but it seemed the king did also. His enquiry next took an entirely different direction than that which I expected.

“And when someone, especially a confident of the king, deliberately chooses to act against what he knows his king’s will to be, what is that called?”

“Treason, your majesty.” I bowed my head, suddenly afraid for far more than what should become of my research.

“And what is the penalty for treason, fool?”

“There is only one, sire. That the traitor be put to death.”

“Do you know of any way in which this might be mitigated?”

“I…” did not.

“I have a thought in mind,” said the king as though it had just occurred to him. “If the matter in question were of a secretive nature and known by only a few, and if the traitor where owed a favour by his king, perhaps he might ask for his ill-considered actions to be overlooked.”

The truth serum still compelled me. “How might my king ever trust his treacherous subject again?”

“This is a question that troubles me also. Perhaps if I knew your motives in disobeying me, I might find a way to renew my faith in you. Randolph, you understand full well how greatly your actions imperilled the kingdom last year. You knew how adamant I was that these potions and the means to make them should be lost to us. I would understand why you would still choose to act as you did.”

And here was the question I’d truly been dreading, and yet had not been asked. The awful truth that lay behind my motives hovered over my tongue, and yet a greater truth overshadowed it and gave me a means of escape. “It is not something I would willingly speak of my liege.”

“And without such understanding, trust melts away. Randolph, would you ask that I not have you executed?”

“With all my heart, sire.” No need for the serum to prompt my response there.

“Then in this manner will I repay you the favour I owe.”

I let out a deep sigh, unaware till that moment that I had been holding my breath.

“Though it sadden me greatly,” he continued, now unable to hold my gaze, “this still leaves unresolved the matter which you yourself have raised. How can I continue to trust you? You are bound by the oath in the matter of this potion, but with a mind as active and imaginative as yours, it will not be long before you find another way to overstep with your mischief…”

“Mischief is my sole purpose in your court, majesty.” I cannot be sure if that was the serum still acting on me though the king took it as such.

“True enough, though as we have seen, unfettered and unguided, it is a dangerous thing. While I do not understand what compels you to choose one action over another, I cannot find it in me to trust you, and while I cannot trust you, I cannot risk having you remain within my court.”

He pulled at his lip and paced back and forth a while, eventually stopping with his back to me.

“Here is my decision on the matter.” The words weighed heavy with him, I could tell, and a new trickle of fear entered my blood. “Of what has been said and done here in this room, neither of you will speak to anyone. Ulric, you are dismissed from my presence. Randolph, you are dismissed from my service. You have until nightfall to leave the castle and until week’s end to leave the kingdom. I am sorry for this, and I will miss you more than you know, but I can see no alternative course. Now leave me.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in, both for Ulric and myself. We roused soon enough that the king had no need to repeat himself, but it was with a slowness born of shock that we departed and made our way back to our apartments, Ulric following me to mine rather than returning direct to his own.

“I am sorry Randolph. I would have been less inclined to say anything had I known the king’s decision.”

“It is of little consequence. The king was right to decide as he did.” Still the veritaserum made an honest man of me.

“What will you do?”

“As my king commands. I will be gone from the castle by nightfall and from the kingdom some few days hence.”

“No, but what will you do?”

“Perhaps I will ask the king for a reference when I bid him farewell. There are wealthy houses beyond Fareway’s borders that will have need of a fool.”

“Have you not had your fill of such a living?”

“It is all I know, Ulric.” I laughed, but with little humour. “Besides, it affords one certain freedoms that are not common to most men.”

“Is there anything I can do to make up for my part in this?”

I was about to shrug off his offer. Made from politeness as it was, it demanded a polite refusal, but then this would be the last time I’d see him and he had brought me to this end, so politeness could go hang itself.

“If I am to leave Fareway, I will likely find myself in a kingdom where things magical are scarce. If you have to spare some fairies’ wings and some unicorn hair, I would value such a gift beyond measure.”

“Randolph! You vowed not to pursue this nonsense. It will be your life should you break the vow, be you in a magical kingdom or no.”

“I know what I vowed, friend, and I have no intention of breaking it. What if I should have need to use your new recipe?”

“If that is your intent, then I will gladly accommodate you, but do not make me a part in your suicide.”

“I have no wish to die, Ulric. Did I not beg for my life not five minutes gone?”

He nodded reluctantly and left me to my packing.

First matters first though. The vow compelled me, and I took from my journal the page upon which I had made my earlier corrections. That one sheet was all I had for nigh on a year’s hard work. I stared at it with regret for a moment, reading through the words I’d written, ensuring they were indelibly etched into my mind, then I set a corner of it to a nearby candle flame and let it burn to a crisp, dropping it into a tray to let the last of it burn, leaving a thin black sheet which would soon enough crumble to nothing.

I set about packing, which took not long at all. Apart from my motley, of which I had several, my Lady Rubella dress and a few odds and ends, I had little enough to call my own. The journal was the last, but a knock came to the door just as I was about to reach for it.

“This seems little enough repayment for what I have done to you,” Ulric said as I opened the door and allowed him in. He held in his hands two small packets, each neatly labelled with the things I’d asked for.

“I’m grateful for it nonetheless,” I said taking them and adding them to my small chest.

He took in the burnt parchment paper and nodded a little. “You see how the vow works?”

“It is hard to ignore.”

“And best not to try. Is this your journal?” He picked up the book, staring intently at the blank page.

“It is, and of a private nature.” I reached for it, but he turned and eluded me.

He picked up the burnt remains of the sheet I had so recently destroyed and crumbled them to fine ash in his hands. He then sprinkled the powder on the blank page and gently blew off the excess. A moment’s further close study led to a satisfied nod and a firm closing of the book which he passed back to me.

“Well, fare thee well fool Randolph. I cannot fully express how sorry I am that matters should end between us in this manner. You were an agreeable student and a better friend. I shall miss you, and I do wish you well in whatever the future brings.”

He held out a hand and I was not so churlish as to ignore it. With my small chest packed and lifted to my shoulder, I stepped out of the suite of rooms I had called home for all of seven years and looked to the guard who had been assigned as my escort. He led me, not to the gates of the castle as I expected, but to the royal chambers where both king and queen awaited me.

“Your majesties.” I could think of little else to say.

The king placed a small but weighty sack on the table between us. The neck was not drawn tight, and I could see within it the glint of gold, certainly more gold than I had ever thought to own.

“A token of our gratitude for the energy with which you have entertained us these past years,” the king said, “and of our regret that you should be departing our service in this manner.”

I looked across at the queen whose eyes were puffy and red but who added nothing to the king’s words.

“Your majesties are excessively generous,” I said, though with little feeling, for almost none remained to me.

“Here also is a letter of referral to whomsoever you may approach in search of your next appointment. In all but this last act you have shown yourself to possess intelligence, wit and resourcefulness, and I would have this be known to any who might consider employing you.”

I took the scroll and bag of coins and added them to my travel chest. Something seemed expected of me so I searched my wit, intelligence and resource for a response and found little enough there.

“I am grateful for your patronage, your majesties, as much as for your gifts.” I bowed low.

“There is a carriage in the courtyard. The driver has been told to await your arrival until sundown. If you arrive before then, he will offer you passage as far as you need to go. Marlbright is on his route and there is a portal not far outside the town that will take you to the mundane world. You have both our best wishes for your future.”

I bowed again, not daring to speak further. It almost seemed as though my dismissal was my idea and against their wishes, and I felt that, should I open my mouth, I might say something to that effect. Neither asking for his permission to withdraw nor waiting for it, I left the chamber. The guard who had accompanied me thus far still waited.

“I suspect that our next destination is the courtyard,” I told him and led the way.

There is little more to say on this matter. The coachman took me as far as Marlbright with two overnight stays. I hid the king’s gold about my person and in various parts of my belongings against the likelihood of robbery, that though a thief might take some of it, he would not get its whole.

A gold piece goes a long way, and I had a good handful of change from just the one, even after two nights staying at roadside inns. At Marlbright I took directions and found my way to the portal where, with heavy heart but no hesitation, I stepped for the first time beyond the land of my birth.

There was a cough and Lori looked up from her reading to find a tray hovering next to her. Above it was a broad grin and a mass of blond hair.

“Hi, bestie,” Anneka said. “I bought lunch for both of us, that way I should be able to stay longer. It’s only turkey sandwiches and pumpkin juice I’m afraid.”

“I’m not sure I care.” Lori returned her friend’s smile. “I’m starving — for company as much as for food. Sit down.” She patted the bed and reached for a sandwich.

Anneka plonked herself down in the indicated spot and reached for a wedge of bready goodness. “I like the new look,” she said, pointing at her own eyes.

“Oh,” Lori said around a mouthful of sandwich and removed the glasses. She continued chewing for a few seconds and swallowed. “Professor McGonagall lent me these. They make reading easier.”

“What are you reading?”

Lori passed over the journal, open on the page she’d been perusing.

“Wow! How can you read this? My Dad would say he should have been a doctor.”

Lori looked blank.

“Sorry, I forget you don’t live in the Muggle world. It’s kind of a running gag that doctors have appalling handwriting.”

“Yeah. Try it with these.” Lori handed over the glasses and went back to her sandwich.

“That’s a lot better. What’s the book?”

Lori was glad she’d only taken a small bite. She swallowed. “Randolph the Rash’s journal. I found it in the Room of Requirement.”

“No way!” Anneka dropped her half-eaten sandwich back on the plate and started leafing through the journal. “Have you found anything? How far have you got?”

“So far I’ve read through his account of his time in service to the king and queen of Fareway. You know that story about how he switched the king and queen’s potions? The journal tells it pretty much as it happened. I’ve just reached a bit where he’s been found out trying to recreate the original potion after the king ordered the recipe destroyed. Apparently, he ended up being banished from the kingdom as a result.”

“Yes, but have you found anything about the original potion? What went into it?”

“The king ordered him to make an unbreakable vow. He was compelled to swear neither to speak of the missing ingredients nor to write of them, and to destroy what written records he had made.

“From what he wrote, he had every intention of continuing to research the potion, because he asked the king’s potion master for a supply of fairy wings and unicorn hair, and the journal lists — at least in part — the ingredients from the old potion that are still used in the new version. You know, morning dew, freshly plucked rose petals, lady’s mantle, along with the fairy wings and unicorn hair. It also mentions that ginger root and boomslang skin was added in the new version, but it says nothing of the original ingredients, and now he’s written about the vow, I don’t see how he can have included those.”

“This is where you got to?” Annka held up the journal at the page Lori had opened.

Lori nodded.

“There’s a page torn out here, and a few pages with what looks like scribble, like he was trying to write something, but someone was fighting him.”

“Can I see?” Lori reached for the journal, which Anneka handed back. She found the tattered edges of the torn page towards the back of the journal after several more pages of Randolph’s cramped writing and several more blank ones. The page immediately after the tear was covered in scribbles as Anneka had said, and the page following that…

The vow compels me. Try as I might to commit words to this page that speak in any manner of the details of my discoveries, I sense it looming over me, bearing its threat of death should I choose to break my promise. The beginnings of words penned tear at my heart, and I know with a certainty that should I attempt to write my message, that brave organ beating within my chest would be sundered utterly, leaving me without even the strength to complete a sentence.

So it is I find my calligraphy turned to an infant’s scrawl. I fear I have not the courage to impart the knowledge I have won through such hardship and sacrifice and must leave it to another to reveal my secrets. They granted me peace at the end of a long hard road, and I would that they might do as much for any who seek the same. I cannot write plain and so leave this, my final riddle, for any discerning enough to understand.

My vow compels me to destroy all I have written of my discoveries, and yet once all that was written had been destroyed, there remained that which had not been written but might still be read.

My vow compels me to show nothing of my work to another soul, and yet that which has been hidden has not been shown, though it may still be found.

My vow compels me to neither speak nor write of what I know in this matter, and yet singing is not speech. A nonsense rhyme may be sung to soothe a child at bedtime. It may be passed from mother to child and perhaps eventually penned by another’s hand.

In all this the vow has not been broken, and so my life be spared. I find I have not sufficient spine to reveal any more, and yet perhaps that which may not be found within may yet exist without.

If you seek what I have sought for so many years, perhaps these words may lead you true. I will it so, for I would have you reach your goal without so much heartache as I have encountered on my journey.

“What do you think this means,” Lori asked her friend.

Anneka looked and her brow creased. “I don’t know. Do you mind if I borrow it for a while?”

“I suppose. I was hoping to finish reading it first though, and it isn’t as if there’s much to do here.”

“That’s okay. I’ve an afternoon full of lessons to go through anyway.”

“Why don’t you come by after dinner? I expect I’ll have finished by then.”

“Sounds like a plan. I imagine I’ll have a few things for you by then anyway. Our professors have been threatening catch up work since they heard you were awake.”

Lori groaned.

“It’s okay. McGonagall says you need rest more than anything, so it’s hardly going to be much. I’ll stay and help if I’m allowed.”

“It’ll be better than staring at the ceiling wondering what that riddle is all about.”

“Maybe. Anyway, I’d better get this back to the kitchens and get ready for the afternoon’s lessons. Can I just jot down that riddle?” She pulled a quill and scrap of parchment from her robes and scribbled a few quick lines.

“It’s amazing to see you again, Ani. I’ve missed having you to talk to.”

“Me too. I mean Hortensia’s okay when you get to know her, but she’s not you.”

“You two getting on alright then?”

“Oh yeah, I mean she’s like a totally different person. She told me all about what you did while I was… you know.”

“I do, and she did her bit too.”

“She said. She also said it wasn’t that hard ‘cos she got to spend time with Morgana Melrose. Did you know they were a thing?”

“Yeah, they got together before I went into the forest.”

“Love will do that to a person, change them I mean. Like, I’ve felt totally different since I met you.” She dipped her head so her hair covered her face. The room went very still.

Lori reached out for her friend’s hand. Anneka raised her eyes at the contact and Lori saw the uncertainty in them. Her mouth went dry and her mind blank. She tried a smile then settled on the only words that would come to mind.

“Me too.”

“Do you think they have the same wards in here as they have in our dormitory?” Anneka asked.

“Probably worse.” Lori lifted her friend’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “I don’t mind risking a hug if you don’t.”

Nothing untoward happened.

Anneka untangled herself from the embrace and picked up the tray. “I’d better go. I’ll see you later.”

Anneka turned towards the door, leaving Lori with nothing to do but read.

Chapter 13 - One tale ends another adventure begins by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021

-oOo-
The portal from Fareway opened into a forested and hilly land named Tara Româneasča by the locals. The place lay under the military rule of a distant empire and suffered from it. I made my way towards the nearest governing city which I found to be under the control of a young prince named Vlad Draculea.

I was drawn to the name as you might imagine. It was well known in the wizarding world that the mundanes believed dragons to be the stuff of legend, so to hear of someone with a draconic appellation piqued my interest. It seemed the title had been granted to the boy’s father for his opposition to the empire forces, a deed which resulted in young Vlad being held hostage, along with his younger brother, by the Ottoman emperor against the continued good behaviour of his father.

Vlad returned to his homeland after his father and older brother were murdered and fought to regain his father’s seat of governance in the land. He had claimed it for the second time when first I met him and, finding myself to be quite taken by him, I presented myself with an offer of service.

He glanced at my letter of reference and accepted me into his court without further consideration. Mundane world or no, you cannot live in the vicinity of a portal to a magical kingdom and remain entirely ignorant of its existence. For all that more than a century had passed since the last official contact between Vlad’s people and the Kingdom of Fareway, unofficially sufficient trade continued that the land of my birth remained less hidden than King Laramy would have liked.

It came as no surprise that his principal interest in me was to learn what I knew of magic. Being a nuisance maker since my early years had meant I learned almost nothing of the arcane arts. In effect I knew little more than what I had learned from Ulric, but this I shared with the prince, and he saw value in it, for who but a leader would most gain from the adoration of his people?

My vow did nothing to forbid my talking of Ulrich’s most recent recipe for the golden potion. Vlad instructed me to prepare him a draught, at which I was forced to confess that I possessed all the ingredients necessary but for the skin of a venomous snake found only in the far-off continent of Africa. Fareway possessed more than one portal into the mundane world, and it was through one such that these creatures were hunted. It took only very little research to discover their habitat lay beyond the reach of the prince.

And so I told him there existed a forgotten potion capable of achieving much the same if not greater effect. I explained I had been ensorcelled never to speak or to write of what I knew, but that I stood at the brink of recreating it. I told him of the risk since I had not yet perfected the formula, but he was a man of courage as much as of action and he bade me prepare the elixir to the best of my ability.

And thus did I make my most educated guess as to which of the six lost ingredients I should include, perhaps being somewhat persuaded to use those that were easiest to find. My formulation produced a flask of golden substance that seemed of good colour and appearance.

The potion granted Prince Vlad a powerfully magnetic charisma that was in no wise the like of that I had seen from Ulric’s potion. Fearful of what I might discover, I looked for other changes and soon observed more than I cared to find.

The prince developed within himself a thirst for blood uncommon to man. He went shortly afterwards into battle against the Ottoman Turks and left over a thousand of his enemies dying, impaled upon spears. His notoriety grew and he his people revered him just as his enemies feared him.

He seemed content enough with the change, and I remained by his side a while, hoping the effects of the potion would lapse, but they never did.

In time I left his service and went my own way, heading towards the North and West. News of Vlad’s excesses on the battlefield haunt me still, and I found no small measure of relief in hearing of his death some years later.

For my next experiment, I chose both my ingredients and my subject with greater care, or so I thought. Here was a man exiled, like myself, from Fareway. A man possessed of some magic but no great ambition. I told him of my own efforts — as much as the vow would permit me — and he assented to trying one of my concoctions.

Once more the potion appeared right in its colour, and once more I hoped I had created a true draught, but the instant he drank it I saw the light of madness appear in the man’s eyes. Not a deranged madness, but one of calculation and cunning. It seemed the potion I created for him erased his affability and drew from deep within him some fell purpose. It was by his choice that we parted company.

It was not until many years later I heard of his excesses. The man’s name was Ekrisdis, and though it shames me greatly to admit my part in his making, I feel history will tell enough of him and I need mention nothing more here than to confess that part.

I travelled across many countries, meandering north and south until I reached its western limit. Here I took passage on a small ship bound for an island kingdom — a place called Britain, ruled by a child king grown to mature years. He seemed a weak ruler and in need of some assistance, so I offered him the benefits of my third attempt at making the potion and so affected his mind that he spent a year in a stupor following my ministrations. I am fortunate that I came to him in secret, for had it been known that I had so poisoned the king, I may have found my head parted from my body.

My vow prevents me writing in detail what variations I tried and why, but suffice to say that I did so with reasons I felt were valid and true. After my third failure I changed my approach, choosing less notable individuals for my trials. I found a way of keeping track of my experiments. Assigning a letter within my mind to each ingredient, I was able to keep note of the combinations of letters I tried without awakening the magic that bound me.

My failures continued, but none so notable as those first three. My attempts spaced out, separated by months and more than once by over a year. In part this was due to my remorse at the harm caused by my potions although this never grew so great that I felt inclined to cease my trials altogether. Mainly though the delays came by reason of the scarcity of many of the ingredients I needed. I ran out of fairy wings at one time and unicorn hair at another, but Britain was possessed of its own magical heritage and, though we lived in an age where such pursuits were persecuted, I found the means to replenish my stocks, albeit at some considerable cost to my purse. Other materials proved harder to find since I was unable to utter aloud what I sought, but find them I did, and so my research continued.

With each failure the vow weighed on me more heavily, but my intent behind each new attempt was in no way malicious, and so it spared me time and again. I mourned the harm I was causing and yet could not find it in me to desist. I have no mastery of numbers and could not tell you how many ways it is possible to combine three of six ingredients, but my list of essays grew improbably long.

I began to wonder if I had misread or miswritten one or more of the ingredients and as I approached my middle years I grew more despairing of ever reaching my goal. The king’s parting gift afforded me a modest income beyond paying for the rarer of the ingredients I needed, but I could feel a lightening in the purse and worried at how much longer it might support me.

Winter came once more and I chanced upon a poor fellow down on his luck with a starving family. It had been my practice for some time to choose my test subjects from among the needy that even in the event of an unfortunate outcome, the families might benefit to some degree. I paid them enough from my much-diminished purse that they might live well for a month and in return he agreed to trying my latest preparation in full awareness of the risk.

Dreading the outcome, I handed him the flask of sparkling golden liquid and watched with growing delight as his emaciated form filled out and his pox-ridden face cleared and altered until there stood before me a strapping fellow of such fine looks, I felt drawn to him myself.

If I had thus found the combination that improved a man, then all that should be required was to make up the base mixture and to switch out the ingredients I had used for his potion and to replace them with those I had left to one side. Surely that would prepare the draught I had sought for so very long.

I had sufficient in my stores to make up two portions and I mixed them forthwith. The first I offered to the man’s wife with two reasons in mind. My less altruistic side still felt a need for the potion to be tested before I should try it. The better part of me recognised in the nature of man a tendency to turn from what he has the moment he feels he may achieve better, and it seemed well, with this man now the most handsome in the village, that his wife should become the most beautiful. She drank it down in something of a daze, and became abruptly slimmer, fairer of skin and more youthful in appearance, just as I had hoped.

I cannot fully express the depths of satisfaction and relief I gained in seeing my concoctions acting as intended. An overwhelming desire filled me to partake of my own flask, but common sense prevailed. To bring fairness and health to a person, even for a short while, might be taken as a miracle, but seemingly to transform myself from a man into a woman might invite a visit from the witch hunter, and while I knew of witches who took pleasure in baiting the fellow, I had no desire to come under his scrutiny.

To the young couple I bade them good fortune, warned them that their newfound fair looks would likely not last beyond the month and to cherish them while they remained. I then withdrew from their village with my own hopes for the future renewed.

I took time to acquire sufficient ingredients — especially those that were hardest come by — to make potion enough for many years to come. I then took myself further west, settling at last in the great port of Bristol. There I purchased all the accoutrement of a well to do lady of middling years and paid a deposit upon an apartment of modest means — certainly far better appointed than the rooms I had enjoyed as King Laramy’s fool — in the name of Arabella Lowell, taking my mother’s family name for my own.

Locked behind the doors of my new home, I disrobed and drank down my golden draft. The change was instantaneous as it had been the previous time, and Arabella gazed back at me from the looking glass. Perhaps a little older than in my memories, but no less beautiful, her body no less lithe. No amount of wishing could make the transformation complete though, and I still bore that which declared my body to be male despite all appearance to the contrary.

I dressed, sensing a coming home as each garment settled into place. Dressing in this new land was no chore needing the assistance of another, though I missed the companionship I shared with my king when we had lived as women side by side. When I felt myself complete, I departed my rooms for a short promenade.

There was a stench to the place that pervades all cities without magic to help ease the processes of nature, but there was a vibrancy also. Within my quarter I felt safe to walk about unaccompanied and within a very short time settled into a routine of exchanging nods and smiles with others of my station as we walked about the place enjoying the air as much as the prevailing miasma would permit.

During my first promenade I became aware of a practice – adopted by the men as much as the women – of carrying a kerchief dipped in perfume. Held to the nose it disguised the unpleasant odour of the place well enough that it faded from the mind’s grasp within a very short time.

A fair face counts for much, even in a woman of maturing years, and it was not long before my door was beset with suitors. As before in the king’s castle, I felt a growing excitement within me that others should show me such attention, and my spirits soared in consequence. It brought evident complications to life, for how might I present myself as a woman to so many interested men when under my skirts I was more like them than any might care to discover?

I took care to inform any who made to court me that, however they might be drawn to my looks, I would never be in a position to entertain them in my bed chambers — an unfortunate birth defect as a child, I explained, for such in my mind it truly was. This helped to winnow out the true kernels from the chaff and before long there remained only two or three suitors determined to remain by me regardless.

In truth I would have been content to live my life as a spinster, but life is harder for an unmarried woman than for one who possesses a family, and so I entertained these die-hards. One in particular captured my heart, for he was gentle of spirit and possessed a broad range of interests that kept our conversations entertaining — I hope as much for him as for me. In time he confessed to me that he was, in his own way, different from those around us. From an early age he had found himself drawn to men and not to women. During his childhood he had become infatuated with one companion after another but had never found voice to speak of his attraction for fear that it might not be returned, or worse, that it might reach the ears of his parents and cause him to bring disgrace to the family.

Now turned adult, he was under pressure to find himself a wife, and one so fair as I would surely win him favour in the eyes of his parents. That I had no more desire to share a bed with him than he with me added to my allure, and before long he proposed marriage which I duly accepted.

To the world we are a respectable and attractive couple who, unable to have children of our own, have taken in the orphaned daughter’s of my husband’s young sister. Between us we make a happy family and live out the course of our lives as contented as any might be in this blighted world.

Of all the joys my happily-ever-after has brought me, perhaps the most unexpected is that which I find in my children, Eloise and Sophia. Adopted they may be, but they could not be more my own had I birthed them myself, nor could I love them less.

“My girls,” I told them this night, as I tucked them into their beds. “For all that you are of this mundane world, I can think of nothing magical that could bring me more delight.”

“What is mundane?” asked Eloise. She is not far off her fifth birthday and filled with an insatiable curiosity.

“Muggles,” says Sophie in an attempt to repeat my own words back to me. Her two-year-old mind has quite a prodigious vocabulary which she expands with each new day, though her mouth yet lacks the dexterity to speak much of it well.

“Muggles indeed, my little one,” I laugh back to her, then answering Eloise’s confusion, I say “You, my girls – or muggles as your sister puts it – are mundane. Though you possess no magic in any real sense, still you bring an enchantment all your own into this world.”

And so ends my story. Perhaps not the stuff of legends. No great evil vanquished, and as unlikely a challenge faced and overcome as any you might find. Perhaps romance of a sort at its end, though I feel sure that many who hear this tale may not believe I deserve the contentment my loving family has brought me.

In pursuit of my own happiness I caused great harm. I am full aware of this and feel the weight of it bearing down on me each day. I cannot regret my actions for I believe the outcome was very much for the best. If any regret remains to me, it is that only I have gained from this and I would have my discoveries known to the world, for of a certainty there are other folk such as myself.

My vow forbids me to speak of what I know, and yet I would encourage any who read these words and find themselves inclined to seek a similar outcome, the way exists and is there to be found. It is my earnest desire that you discover it for yourself with less pain than its search caused me, and where words may not be written plainly, I entreat you to seek the meaning behind the words.

I comfort myself with the hope that one day others will benefit from that which I sought so long and hard to achieve. Please do not give up. The answer lies within your grasp and you are closer to it than you may believe.

Lori turned a few more pages, but the writing was at an end. Apart from the torn page and senseless scribble later in the book, all the other pages were blank.

She lay back on her pillows and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was whirling with all she’d read and she had no way of making sense of it.

“Let it go.” Her mother’s voice came to her from years ago. “It all makes a pattern which you’ll see if you leave it be. If you hold onto it, you’ll twist it out of shape and you won’t see what’s there.”

So she let the words swirl around inside her head. If there was a pattern she couldn’t see it, but certain sections of what she’d read stood out from the rest. She slipped out of bed and went in search of Madam Pomfrey.

“What are you doing out of bed?” asked the ageing nurse, her head bowed over a pile of parchments.

“I wondered if I might have something to write on,” Lori said. “And to write with.”

Madam Pomfrey huffed gently then reached into a desk drawer. “Here. Parchment, clipboard, pencil. Saves you from the risk of spilling ink on my sheets.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll thank me by getting back into bed. You need rest.”

Lori complied. She allowed the words to swim about her again and made notes as the different sections once more came to visit her. There were those cryptic notes she’d been reading just as Anneka came to visit. There was the name Arabella had assumed at the last, and the place she’d settled. There was the quite surprising discovery that it had been Randolph’s experiments that had produced Ekrisdis along with a number of other notable monsters in the world. She added bits here and there where she felt them rise to the surface. Eventually the maelstrom subsided and she put the pencil and paper to one side, next to the book and McGonagall’s glasses.

She felt tired and closed her eyes…

-oOo-

“Hi,” a voice said quietly, uncertainly. A familiar voice.

Lori opened her eyes to find a very self-conscious Hortensia Skunk looking down at her.

“Hey.” Lori gave her a tired smile and stretched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I can come back.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m glad you came.”

“Really? Even after I let your other cloak…”

“McGonagall told me about it, and Raphael’s threat. You did the right thing Hortensia. I mean it’s just a cloak after all. Way less important than a person.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Not in the slightest. Morgana is all right, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah, she’s fine. I, er, I brought you something to eat.”

Lori sat up and accepted the tray. Bangers and mash with peas and gravy. Her hunger growled inside her and she reached for her knife and fork. “Didn’t you bring anything for yourself?”

“Oh, no. I was going to eat later. I er…”

“Have a date with Morgana?”

She smiled. “Maybe. I didn’t know if you wanted company though.”

“You have to be kidding! I only have the one book, and I just finished reading it.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me. Sorry about this, but your brother left these at our dorm for me to pass on to you. It’s catchup work from, well, from pretty much everyone.” She laughed apologetically and lifted a stack of books and papers out of her bag.

Lori, mouth full of sausage, pointed at the chair next to her bed. Hortensia deposited the work and looked around uncertainly.

“Sit on the bed,” Lori managed around a rather overfilled mouth. “Tell me what’s been going on since I ended up in here.”

“Er, well Lily Potter and Hugo Weasley got caught trying to sneak out to Hogsmeade a couple of days ago.”

“What? How?”

“Well, from what I heard, Lily’s been pestering James for information about the secret passages around Hogwarts since she got here. The word is he got fed up and told her about the passage behind the statue of the witch with the hump.”

“But everybody knows about that one, even the teachers.”

“Apparently not Lily. And the teachers have hexed it now. If anyone uses the password near the statue, it screams.

“Which is what Hugo and Lily did, which led to them being caught and now they have detention in the kitchens for a week. I heard Hugo grumbling about it earlier. Apparently they have to make butterbeer. Gallons and gallons of butterbeer. He was saying the smell of it is so sickly he may never want to drink it again. He was even talking about asking McGonagall if he could switch his detention to cleaning the owlery!”

“That James Potter needs to be brought down a peg or two. I wish someone would teach him a lesson.”

“Ask and your wish will be granted.” Hortensia’s smile was growing by the minute. “He’s suspected of breaking up a packet of canary creams and mixing them in with the feed Hagrid’s been giving to that litter of firecrabs he’s been raising.”

“What did that do?” Lori almost choked on a mouthful of sausage. It felt so good to have something silly to laugh at again.

“I don’t know. Hagrid won’t show anyone. He has them shut away in his hut with him. All I do know is that every ten to fifteen minutes there’s a loud bang from the hut and this cloud of yellow feathers appears out of his chimney. If you open our dorm window, you can just about hear them going off. I don’t think Hagrid’s slept for a week.”

“Why do they think it was James?”

“Well, you know he’s the main source of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes products in the school? His uncle keeps sending him samples by way of advertising, and he keeps boasting he gets really good discount. He’s having to keep a really low profile at the moment, ‘cos Hagrid is not his usual laid-back self.

“And word has it he doesn’t have his invisibility cloak any more. You know, he spent most of the first term bragging about it and showing it off? Now one of my friends in Gryffindor tells me his dad came in and took it back after the fog cleared.”

The conversation and laughter went on for a while until Madam Pomphrey appeared out of her office and told Hortensia that Lori needed her rest.

“I should go anyway,” Hortensia said, picking up Lori’s dinner tray. “I don’t want to keep a certain someone waiting. You know how it is?”

“Well, come back soon. I really needed this, H. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for understanding. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”

“That makes two of us then. If you see Lysander, ask him to come see me again. I mean I know he was here this morning, but I want to know if he has any news about my mum and dad.”

“Sure, if I see him. Only, apart from when he dropped that stuff off earlier,” Hortensia pointed at the pile of homework, “I haven’t seen him at all today.”

Hortensia departed leaving Lori with an empty room, a read journal and a stack of work. She riffled through the pile until she found her history of magic textbook and settled back into bed.

In their last lesson, they’d learnt about Azkaban. She found the chapter and turned to the next one. A lilac envelope fell out. She opened it and pulled out a matching sheet of paper with a short note penned in a precise cursive script. Lysander’s less tidy scrawl filled the page above, below and on the back. She started with what her brother had to say.

“Hi Sis,

“I’m guessing this’ll be the first book you open. Hoping so in any case because I need your help.

I got this owl while I was collecting your catchup work this morning. You should read it now before going on to the rest of what I’ve written.”

She scanned down to the original contents of the note.

“We have your parents,” it said. “You have until midnight to retrieve the Bloodstone and its box and bring them to the top of the Astronomy Tower. It is currently being held at the Ministry for Magic where a way in has been prepared for you. If you prove as resourceful as your sister and make it in time to hand the stone over, then your mother and father will be released tomorrow morning. If not, or if you tell anyone what you are doing, you will never see them again.”

It was unsigned. Lori felt her blood freeze in her veins. She turned to the rest of Lysander’s note.

“I’ve told the owl to wait for me in the owlery while I write a reply, but I’m not going after the Bloodstone. I don’t trust them, so I’m going to try following the owl and see if it’ll take me to where they’re holding Mum and Dad. You remember what we saw at Miss Mitchell’s funeral? You remember where Mum took us our first day here? I’m going to grab some raw meat from the kitchen and see if I can get one to let me ride it.

“You remember Mum talked about using them once to get to the Ministry? They’re quick, so I guess they’ll be your best bet too. I need you to pretend to be me and go after what they want. I don’t know how closely they’ll be watching, and I don’t think we can afford to take any risks. If you don’t hear from me or the ’rents by midnight, you’ll have to be ready to do what they want.”

The clock struck the third quarter after seven. She had a little over four hours and not a moment to lose.

Climbing out of bed, she picked up her wand and the earring Lysander had returned to her from table beside her bed. The necklace still hung around her neck. She slipped on her dressing gown and slippers, stuffed the note in her pocket and tiptoed toward the door. It was open a crack and the two aurors still stood on either side looking around them. There was only one way she had a chance of getting past them. Grasping the earring between finger and thumb, she said quietly enough that the aurors wouldn’t hear her, “My brother is most assuredly the best.”

She vanished. What she’d been able to see of her arms was no longer there. She yanked the door open and ran out between the two men. She heard a cry behind her but couldn’t afford to look back. She ran at full speed towards Ravenclaw tower.

-oOo-

“I am the beginning of eternity,” the eagle’s head door knocker said as she approached, “the end of time and space, the beginning of every end and the end of every place. What am I?”

“That’s not the same riddle as last time,” Lori said, not a little petulantly. Neither dressing gown nor slippers were warm enough to shield her from the evening chill.

“If the riddle did not change,” the knocker said, “you would not learn.”

There was no-one around to answer the riddle for her, not that they’d be inclined to let her in if they were. They might if they suspected she were Lysander, but the pink dressing gown and frilly white nightdress wouldn’t help her persuade anyone of that. She cudgelled her brain and tried to think about the riddle.

It wasn’t just her that had problems with the riddles apparently, The walls and balustrades either side of the door were covered in scratches and scribblings. One of them showed a full transcription of the riddle the door had spoken. She stared at it.

This was a let-your-mind-wander problem, which is what she did. Unconsciously she began repeating the verse in her head. Equally unconsciously she followed the written words, mentally underlining the beginnings of some and the endings of others. She snapped back into the world.

“E,” she said. “It’s the letter e.”

“Well reasoned again,” the knocker said, and the door swung open.

The inside of the Ravenclaw common room was far from empty. About two dozen pairs of eyes swung round to look at her. She mustered her best impression of Lysander’s voice — her own had been similar not so long ago — and said, “Don’t ask.” She rushed up the stairs towards where she remembered her brother appearing on her previous visit and pushed her way into what she desperately hoped was her brother’s dormitory.

“What the h…”

“Don’t ask,” she repeated for the room’s occupants. “There are times I hate having a sister.”

“Lye?”

Lori headed for the only unoccupied bed and pulled open the wardrobe next to it. She recognised some of Lysander’s things for non-uniform days. For now she grabbed one of his uniforms and stripped out of her nightwear.

Oddly, it felt wrong putting on her brother’s clothes, sort of embarrassing and disturbing — how she imagined he must have felt when he’d put on her skirt before teaching the Patronus lesson. Even more oddly, they felt uncomfortable and unfamiliar to her now.

“Where have you been?” One of Lye’s dorm mates asked. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“What happened to your hair?”

“Oh yeah, that.” Lori stuffed the excess down the back of her collar. It wasn’t perfect, but she might get away with it in poor light. “Look guys,” she jammed her feet into a pair of her brother’s shoes and grabbed one of his cloaks from inside the wardrobe. “Explanations will have to wait. I have things to do. Cover for me, okay?”

There were nods all round. Lori didn’t sense the same supportive vibe she had from her Hufflepuff friends — more of a loose camaraderie with an underlying competitiveness. She could hear the cogs grinding in their brains and knew full well there would be a ton of speculation following her departure. She left before suspicion had a chance to take root and made it out of the common room door before anyone followed her with more questions.

Next stop was the kitchens for some raw meat, then from there out across the covered bridge towards the edge of the forbidden forest. Halfway across, she heard a yell from behind her.

“Lysander!” Professor Longbottom called from the end of the bridge.

She turned and looked back trusting to the darkness to keep her hidden.

“Have you seen your sister?”

Lori shrugged.

“She ran out of the infirmary. Let us know if you find her. Where are you going by the way?”

“Owlery,” Lori called back in her best imitation of her brother. “Want to see if I’ve had any replies to some of the owls I sent earlier.”

“Okay, but make sure you’re back before curfew.”

Lori waved then turned back to continue crossing. A sudden explosion ahead and to the left of her made her jump. A flare of red illuminated a small cloud of feathers above the chimney on Hagrid’s hut. She smiled. At least she wouldn’t have to talk her way past the ground’s keeper. The path her mother had shown them was somewhere to the right of the owlery. She took her bearings from the explosion’s brief illumination and pressed on.

Despite her worries about finding the place in the dark, she made her way to the clearing her mother had shown them easily enough. It was a gloomy place a hundred or so yards beyond the tree line, and this time it wasn’t empty.

In the light of her wand, a couple of dozen vaguely horse-shaped creatures stood watching her. Vaguely horse shaped in as much as they had a head and four legs, otherwise they were quite different.

“Most people find them scary,” her mum had said while feeding a sliver of meat apparently to mid-air, “but that’s not right. It’s more that they’re misunderstood, a bit like death. Their actually quite friendly if you take the time to get to know them.”

Lori took out one of her scraps of meat and tossed it to the nearest one, which snatched it out of the air and gulped it down.

“I need to get to the Ministry of Magic,” she told it. “Can you help me?”

It tossed its skull-like head and swung it towards its emaciated body. An invitation of sorts? Lori stepped forward, offering a second scrap of meat from her hand. The creature’s bony mouth picked up the morsel with considerable care before gulping it down. It then nudged her gently towards its withers.

It barely looked like it had the strength to hold itself up, let alone carry a passenger, yet her mum had said that some of her friends had ridden two up. Climbing onto its back ahead of the large, leathery wings proved something of an acrobatic challenge, but she managed it and, no sooner was she settled than the beast reared and leapt almost straight up.

Lori’s first instinct was to throw her arms around its neck, but as it flew straight and strong, stroking the air with effortless beats of its wings and climbing steadily, she realised she felt entirely safe.

The sky above her held a scattering of stars. Beneath her, apart from the rapidly receding lights of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, there was nothing to be seen. This was no unicorn ride, but from the speed with which Hogwarts disappeared behind them and the bitterness of the wind whipping past, she gauged it had to be faster. The light of the distant villages drifted past hundreds of feet below at a seemingly leisurely pace. She huddled in her brother’s cloak, longing for the warmth of the one Maledicta had stolen back, and clenched her teeth to stop them from chattering. For all the discomfort, the journey seemed barely to have started when a bright orange glow ahead heralded the approach to London and they began their descent.

They landed in a narrow alley with barely enough space to accommodate the thestral’s wingspan. It was a dingy and unwelcoming place — deliberately so — but incongruously without the unsavoury smells usually associated with such locales.

An old telephone box stood against one of the walls, glass cracked in several pains, the paint faded almost to orange, bubbled and pealing in places. Lori pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The glass was so streaked with grime, she could barely see through it. The handset rested in its cradle, but was otherwise unconnected, the cord hanging uselessly to the ground where it terminated in a tangle of wires.

She had no idea what to do next. In one of her mum’s stories, Harry had lifted the receiver and dialled a number he’d learnt from Arthur Weasley some days earlier. What was it? She looked at the buttons which had letters as well as numbers. 62442, that was it. It spelt out magic, but the number would have been changed a hundred times over since then, surely…

She picked up the handset and punched in the numbers anyway.

Nothing happened.

“Er, hello?” she said into the handset, but nothing continued to happen.

Lori replaced the handset and looked around the cramped space searching for a clue, but nothing presented itself. The note had said the way had been prepared, so what was she to do? An inscription on the dial read, ‘Dial zero for the operator,’ and it seemed worth a try. Feeling a little foolish, she lifted the receiver a second time and dialled the single digit.

Nothing happened yet again.

She held the receiver to her ear. “Er, hello?” she ventured. “I’d, er, I’d like to go into the Ministry of Magic, please.”

Again, nothing happened, then after several seconds a voice — so quiet it could almost have been imagined — said, “Name?”

She shifted her feet, felt the course material of her brother’s trousers rub against her legs. It served to remind her what she was wearing, who she was pretending to be.

“Er, Lysander. Lysander Scamander.”

Yet again nothing happened for several seconds, then abruptly the floor began to shift, sinking slowly below the level of the pavement. Lori quickly replaced the receiver on its cradle before it moved beyond her reach, then settled back to wait as she was carried slowly down a long vertical shaft.

At the bottom, a doorway opened onto a vast atrium leading at one end to an array of corridors lined with fireplaces, most of which were currently cold. In the other direction, the ruin of an immense statue stood over a fountain spilling a constant stream of water over the cracked and broken stone.

The place was empty. Apart from the gentle gurgle of water, it was silent.

Hello?” Lori called out quietly, hearing nothing in response but her own echo.

She began to explore. Surely the person who had let her in was somewhere at the very least. The place was so vast though. Aware of how easily she could become lost, she deliberately remained in sight of the entrance she had used. She tried squeezing her earring and felt a gentle tug across the atrium and down. At least using the invisibility charm hadn’t nullified the finding charm. It might help her find what she was looking for but, how would she find her way back?

A small table stood beside the elevator with a potted plant on it. She pushed the earring into the soil and tried squeezing her pendant. This time she felt drawn in both directions. This could work.

Following the more distant pull, she crossed the atrium where she came across an information board listing the names of all the departments in gold leaf. One in particular stood out by the line scratched into the wood underneath it. Department of Mysterious Artefacts it read. Lori reached out a finger and touched it briefly.

A paper aeroplane appeared out of nowhere. On its wings were written the words ‘Follow me’. It hovered by the board — specifically by the label Lori had touched — and waited.

Lori shrugged. “Lead the way,” she said, and the plane began to move at an easy walking pace.

Lori followed it into a lift where it hovered near a bank of buttons, its nose pointing at the number eleven. Lori pushed it and waited as nothing happened. It took her a while to realise with such old-fashioned elevators, the doors had to be pulled closed manually. She did so and pushed the number eleven again.

The sides of the lift were transparent, allowing Lori to look out over floor after floor of empty corridors. The Ministry was supposed to run twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Where was everyone? The way had been prepared, the note had said, but the Order of Purity had little enough power without the Bloodstone. How could they pull off something like this?

Left out of the lift, more lefts, more rights. She was lost long before her guide slowed to a halt outside a certain door, a name plate on it declaring it to be the Department of Mysterious Artefacts.

“How do I get back?” she asked the paper craft, but its job done, it headed for a nearby wastepaper bin and shredded itself into confetti.

“Well, that was helpful,” she said to no-one in particular. With nothing else to do, she twisted the knob and leaned on the door.

Another empty room, or so it seemed. The lighting was dim, reduced for night-time it seemed. It was enough to see by though, and she could make out several doors into other rooms. She squeezed her pendant which pulled her in one particular direction. On the other side a crystal chalice sat on a plinth in the middle of the room, surrounded by more doors. The magical tug pulled her to a new door. She was more than a dozen doors deep into the maze when she eventually opened a door to find a familiar object on display in the centre of the room.

The stone box that held the bloodstone stood on a pedestal in the middle of the room. It was closed, but nothing surrounded it, or nothing seemed to be there in any case.

She reached out for it.

“Hello Lori,” said a voice from behind her. “Or should that be Lorcan given the way you’re dressed?”

Chapter 14 – Out of the frying pan by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	I rewrote the end of the conversation between Lori and Neville in chapter 12. I’d already rewritten the encounter with McGonagall where she mentioned evidence of a house elf from outside Hogwarts being involved, but I didn’t do the same for the Longbottom conversation and it didn’t fit quite right.

-oOo-
Lori spun around, looking for the source of the voice. She’d checked every room on entering and she’d been certain this one had been as empty as the rest.

“You surprise me. I’d have thought you knew all about invisibility cloaks.” There was a shifting in the air and a man appeared. Dark hair, glasses, scar.

“Uncle Harry?” She forgot everything else and ran at him, throwing her arms around his middle. His arms settled around her and for a long moment they shared a much-needed embrace.

Much needed by Lori in any case. Who could say what Uncle Harry needed?

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“Never mind that,” he said. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“I’m not sure I can say.”

“Well, you’re going to have to say something. Professor McGonagall is going to want to know what one of her students is doing this far from Hogwarts.”

Lori pushed away from her uncle and said nothing.

“Lorcan…”

“Lori.”

“Lori then. You have to tell me something.”

Lori pulled out the note and read it. ‘If you tell anyone about what you’re doing...’ it said. Showing wasn’t the same as telling though, was it? She handed the lilac letter across.

Harry read it, turned it over, reread it.

“Okay, that answers most of my questions, but it raises a few more. You know you can’t give them the Bloodstone, don’t you? It’s too powerful.”

“But if I don’t I’ll never see Mum and Dad again.”

“You asked where everyone was, Lori, so let me tell you. Earlier today we started receiving reports of witches and wizards throughout the ministry falling asleep. Some slumping over their desks, others collapsing in the corridors, one or two fell into the fountain.”

“Were they from half-blood and non-wizarding families?”

“As it happens, they were. We didn’t ask that question immediately though; there are a lot of things that could have been the cause and we have procedures. Minister Shacklebolt called for an immediate evacuation, so most of the day was taken up with that, plus transporting the afflicted to St Mungo’s. They’re not really set up for such a sudden influx of patients, so it took quite a lot of organising to make sure they were all taken care of. Eventually one of the Healers wondered if there might be a link with what happened at Hogwarts and decided to try the cure they had developed for your friends. When it worked, giving us our first real clue as to the cause, I came back here with a small team of full-blood aurors to see what was going on.

“We examined the stone casket with the Bloodstone in it, and we found a few drops of blood on the stone as well as some grains of sand inside the lid. Not enough to be noticed unless you were looking for it, but just sufficient to allow a fine and all but invisible mist to escape.”

“How…?”

“We think It’s likely that at least one member of the Order of Purity — I think that’s what you called them wasn’t it? — works here in the ministry and managed to gain access to the stone.”

“But why…?”

“Our best guess is they planned to steal the stone back, so I instructed the rest of the team to leave so I could stay behind hidden under my cloak. You’re very much the last person I expect to be the thief, though this note goes a long way to explaining your actions.

“It does raise another question though. The Ministry’s in lock down, so how did you get in?”

“The phone box said dial zero for the operator, so I did.”

“And?”

“There was a voice. A woman. She asked me for my name, so I told her I was Lye. I mean they sent the letter to him, so it seemed…”

“Yes, that much makes sense, but dialling the operator shouldn’t have worked, not with the place evacuated. What did this woman sound like?”

“I don’t know. She was very quiet and all she said was, ‘Name.’ I told her and a few seconds later the floor started dropping.”

“That could only have been done from within the Ministry, which means there’s still someone here.”

“What do we do?”

Harry looked at the youngster in front of him. Even in Lysander’s clothes, Lori looked so different from either of the boys he remembered. There was a vulnerability about him? Her? He thought of Professor McGonagall’s reports, and had to admit she had a point, Lori was definitely more a girl than a boy. Harry was going to have to come to terms with the idea that he had a niece in Lori. Not a blood relation of course – he had no family ties with either Luna or Rolph – but he'd always considered the bonds of friendship to be far stronger than those of family.

“What do we do?” he mused. He couldn’t afford to leave his post, especially if there was a traitor in the Ministry, which seriously limited his options. Lori had been through so much already though, and it hardly seemed fair to ask more of her, no matter how intent she was to try. It was a struggle sometimes to remember that he’d been the same age when he’d first faced Voldemort. He hadn’t asked for the Dark Lord’s attention any more than Lori had asked for her parents to be kidnapped. However, once you were involved, you were involved, and age was no excuse for doing nothing. Besides, he’d been far from helpless back then, and the same was true of Lori right now.

What could he ask her to do though? The Bloodstone was too dangerous for him to let her have it, but at the same time he couldn’t send her back to Hogwarts empty handed.

“Hermione told me once, if you’re confronted with two unacceptable choices, the best thing you can do is look for a third option and choose that.”

“What do you mean a third option?”

“I don’t know yet. Do you have any idea where your brother is?”

“No, but I think I could find him.”

“Patronum invenire? Professor McGonagall mentioned how you’ve been dabbling with advanced magic. I have to tell you how impressed I am. I didn’t cast my first Patronus until my third year and I remember how hard it was to do then. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea though.”

“Why not?”

“The Professor also mentioned something about how your last spell affected you.”

“Yeah, but she only told me not to cast magic on myself.”

“After what happened in the forest, every spell you cast is going to have some unexpected results.”

“Are you telling me not to use magic at all then? This is my family we’re talking about.”

“I know, and no I’m not telling you not to do so. Just that you need to be aware how dangerous it is for you to use magic right now.”

“Would it have stopped you?”

“That’s different…”

“How?”

“Actually you’re right, it’s not. All right, how does this sound for a third option? You use your Patronus to find your brother and help him to free your parents.”

“But there’s no guarantees Lysander’s found Mum and Dad. All he’s done is follow the owl that brought him the message and there’s no way of knowing where it was going.”

“You could use your Patronus to find your parents directly.”

“Don’t you think their kidnapers would have thought about that? I mean aren’t there ways of hiding things so even a Patronus can’t find them?”

“I guess so. Fine, so what would your third option be?”

“What's Latin for cut?”

“Cut? What do you mean?”

“You know, like when you cut your finger?”

“Er, I don’t really know. Latin’s not my strong suit.”

“It’s lacerationis,” A voice said from the fireplace.

“Hermione! You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’m fine, Harry. You should listen to Lori. She’s really quite clever.”

“How long have you been listening?”

“Long enough. Harry it should be you casting the Patronus.”

It was too late though.

“Expecto patronum.” Lori waved her wand. “Arresto patronum.”

“Wow!” said Hermione’s flaming head.

“Yeah, wow!” Harry agreed.

Even Lori stood dumbstruck. The ghostly white shape of her Patronus had changed.

Still a unicorn, at least for the most part. It stood a good foot taller than the first time she’d cast it, so much so that if it hadn’t kept its head lowered, it would have been impossible to see the horn on its forehead. That wasn’t all though. The creature sported two massive, fiery wings — still spectral white like the rest of the apparition’s body, but with feathers of flame.

“How…?” she said. “That’s a combination of Lysander’s Patronus and mine. How can it be here when he isn’t?”

“I think you’ll find that’s your Patronus now, Lori,” Hermione said from the fireplace. “You’ve been through quite a lot recently; it doesn’t surprise me that it’s changed form.”

“Yeah, but why this form?”

“It’s like your uncle says. You have to be careful right now. Unpredictable things are going to happen whenever you cast a spell.”

“What, like this?” She took a stance and incanted, “Patronum invenire lacerationis.”

The great creature unfurled its wings and leapt almost straight up through the ceiling.

“How’s that going to help?” Harry asked.

“Who do you know might have recently cut their finger?” Hermione chipped in from the fireplace. “You know, maybe to drip blood on the Bloodstone?”

Harry said something unrepeatable and ran out of the room.

Leaving Lori with a window of opportunity. The Order weren’t going to settle for anything less than the Bloodstone and casket and they weren’t stupid enough to be fooled by any fake she could put together. She understood what Uncle Harry meant about it being too dangerous to let the Order have it, but that didn’t mean she should just leave her parents to their fate. There was a third option, and she was beginning to see it. She grabbed the casket and hurried from the room.

She couldn’t just leave though. She felt a compulsion to follow her Patronus and sensed where it was several floors above her. A few judicious squeezes of her pendant guided her through the rooms of the Department of Mysterious Artefacts and through the maze of corridors outside to the bank of lifts. She shut herself into one and pressed for the top floor.

Back out in the vastness of the atrium, she turned towards a collection of offices on the far side of the ruined fountain. She could hear sounds of duelling which ended with her uncle’s familiar cry of, “Expeliarmus!” She ran across and into a room where her Patronus stood patiently over a cowering witch, her wand lying broken on the floor out of her reach, one of her hands wrapped in a handkerchief. Harry stood panting slightly with a look of fierce gratification in his face. The Patronus faded as Lori arrived and Harry turned towards her.

“Lori, I’d like you to meet Pansy Parkinson. We were at school together. Unless I miss my guess, this is who let you into the Ministry.”

Lori turned to the witch who glowered back at her. “Where are my mum and dad?” she asked.

“Do what you’re supposed to and you’ll find out,” she replied.

“You’d better not have hurt them, or else…”

“Or else what? Just what do you think you can do?”

“Shut-up,” Harry shouted at his prisoner, then he looked across at Lori, rather pointedly resting his gaze on the prominent bulge under her cloak.

Lori lifted her chin defiantly. “Third option,” she said.

Harry looked uncertain for a moment then made up his mind. “I suppose you’d better be getting back to Hogwarts then. You don’t have much time.”

Lori’s defiant look melted into a smile.

Harry grinned wryly in return. “I’d tell you to be careful, but that’s not always the best way. Just don’t put me in a position of having to explain to your parents what happened to you.”

“Thanks Uncle Harry. I won’t.” She turned and ran for the elevator she’d used on arriving, retrieving her earring from the plant pot as she passed it.

The thestral stood patiently, turned its head towards her as she emerged from the telephone box.

“Thank you so much for waiting,” she said to it, still not entirely sure how much it understood. She climbed onto its back and settled herself. “I’m afraid I have something big to ask of you; I’m not even sure if it's possible. I need to be back at Hogwarts by midnight at the top of the astronomy toooowweeer…” The last word stretched out as the eerie creature leapt into the sky far more violently than before and turned northwards, streaking across the rooftops at breakneck speed even as it climbed.

The wind was stronger this time and bitter cold, growing colder still as they headed north. With the lights of London behind them and the Moon not yet risen, Lori found herself truly in the dark. She couldn’t judge distances, but it seemed the rare village and town they passed disappeared behind them far more rapidly. The thestral’s wing-strokes felt stronger, faster. Lori could only hope the increase in speed would be enough. She clung on tight, both to the creature’s neck and to her prize, nestled safely inside her cloak.

Some time later, but so much quicker than their outward journey, the familiar terrain around Hogwarts came into view. The hills, the lake, the forest, Hogsmeade, the ruin of the castle which, as they dived down towards it, shimmered and turned whole. The thestral wasn’t making for its forest home, but for the tallest spire ahead. Seconds later immense wings stretched out like parachutes, arresting their speed and bringing them in for a gentle landing in a clear space atop the tower.

Lori jumped down and gave the bony neck a hug — of gratitude this time. “You have been so amazing. Thank you, I shouldn’t ask anything more of you, but I have to. At midnight someone’s going to fly past on a broom and I’m going to have to give them this. I need to follow them, but you’ve done so much, I can’t ask any more.”

The thestral shook its head and stood back a step or two.

“Perhaps, when you go back to your clearing in the forest, you could ask one of your friends to come up and offer me a ride. It’s really important. If I don’t do this, the mist could come back, and I don’t like to think what might happen to my parents.”

The thestral shook its head once more and looked towards the clock tower, which gave a distinctive click and started to ring out the hour.

“Oh!” Lori exclaimed. She pulled out the casket and looked around her.

A shape moved in the darkness, black moving against black. She watched it as it grew and took the form of a witch on a broomstick. “Hold it up,” a voice called to her, and Lori complied.

The broom whizzed past. A hand reached out and grabbed the box. The shape disappeared into the dark.

“What about my parents?” Lori called after it, receiving little more than a cackle in response. “Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Lye was right not to trust you. Let’s see how much you trust me. Option three, here we go.” She turned to the thestral. “I need to ask you to carry me once more if you’d be so kind. I’ll totally understand if you’re too exhausted after that flight we just made, but if you could at least take me as far as your clearing so I can find another mount...”

The creature looked at her reproachfully and nudged her to mount. The moment Lori climbed up, it leapt into the air and turned in the direction the witch had gone, beating its powerful wings with renewed vigour. Lori took a moment to find her balance before squeezing her pendant. “Slow down a little,” she said into her mount’s ear. “She’s about a hundred yards ahead and we don’t want her to know we’re following. She just started a gentle turn to the right.”

The thestral responded to Lori’s directions and they settled down to follow. Whatever broom the witch was using, it was a fast one, yet no challenge for them to keep up, which was a relief on two accounts. In the first, she did not want her brave companion to overexert itself after having done so much for her already. In the second, she was already chilled to the bone from the night’s travel and the more sedate pace meant she wasn’t going to freeze quite so quickly.

Lori squeezed her pendant every few minutes, the finding charm in it giving her a sense of distance and direction to the one still hidden under the velvet cushion in the casket. When their quarry changed direction — which she did often — the young girl gave instructions to her mount and so they maintained a more or less constant distance. Their flight took them to the south and a little west and lasted a couple of hours, the night turning colder with each passing minute. Lori found herself glad of the days she’d spent confined to her bed. Tired as she was, the extended rest meant she had reserves she would not have possessed otherwise. Constantly checking and readjusting their course kept her mind sufficiently occupied to distract her from the fatigue and the chill.

About halfway through the flight, the Moon climbed into the sky. Half-moon tending to waning crescent, Professor Sinistra would have called it. From Lori’s point of view, it provided enough light for them to catch an occasional glimpse of the witch ahead of them. That of course meant that she might as easily spot them too, should she happen to glance back, so as a precaution, Lori asked her mount to drop lower and give her a little more of a lead. The finding charm on her earrings wasn’t noticeably affected by the increased distance, and the lower altitude placed their target above the horizon where she was more visible.

At long last, the broom ahead of them veered to the right and entered a gently descent. The thestral changed direction without needing to be told while Lori looked ahead of the witch’s new course to find a solitary light shining from the top of a hill. As they approached, it separated out into about a dozen or more lit windows.

The house stood out clearly in the moonlight and might once have been the family home to a minor lord or baron. The building was large and opulent with grounds extending for over a half mile in all directions. Lori indicated a stand of trees just beyond the near wall, and the thestral brought them in for a gentle landing just beside them, furling its large leathery wings the moment its feet were on the ground.

Lori dismounted, stumbling with the stiffness in her limbs, and squeezed her pendant, more for comfort than any real need. The magical response guided her eyes to follow the witch swooping down ahead of them and settling in front of the mansion. Between the distance and the dark it was hard to make out much detail until a slender shaft of light split the building three quarters of the way up to the eaves.

For a few brief seconds, the light from inside the house illuminated columns either side of two extravagantly tall doors. It showed broad steps leading up to the doorway and two figures — one, the tall, slender figure of the witch, the other far shorter, not quite human, slightly stooped. The witch stepped inside, the door closed and they were gone.

Lori dug in her pocket and pulled out the last few scraps of meat which she offered to her companion. “That’s all I have right now, I’m afraid,” she told it, “but I promise I’ll bring you more after we get back to Hogwarts. Will you be all right to wait here? I’ll come and find you as soon as I can.”

The vaguely horse shaped head bobbed in acknowledgement and Lori made her way cautiously across the grounds towards the building. Here again, her cunning plan began to look a little ragged around the edges. She’d figured out how to get here easily enough, but with that achieved, problems now assailed her from all sides. Had her brother made it here? Were her parents being held in the building or somewhere nearby, and how could she find them and set them free? By no means least, how could she steal the Bloodstone back from this band of psychopaths before they used it to bring more misery? Uncle Harry’s help would be invaluable right about now, but he probably had his hands full locking away that Pansy Parkinson.

She’d spent most of the journey trying to come up with a strategy or two and hadn’t made much progress. When you didn’t know what you were about to face it was hard to make plans. She’d counted the sum total of her assets as the jewellery her brother had given her, the spells she’d learned so far at Hogwarts, her capacity to produce a powerful Patronus — not insignificant, but not exactly a stealth move — and hopefully, assuming she could find them and free them, her parents. Her mother especially was no stranger to a fight, even if she hadn’t lifted a wand in anger since before Lori and her brother had been born.

Lori approached the house cautiously. The Moon cast deep shadows making it relatively easy to remain undetected, though what was true for her would inevitably be as true for any sentinels in the grounds. Close to, the place seemed considerably more formidable. The steps up to the front door put the level of the ground floor a good five or six feet above the surrounding gardens, which would mean an exposed climb to reach any window, should she wish to either look in or break in, and it was massive! She guessed it would take half an hour to skirt around the outside looking for some alternative to the front door, and she wasn’t sure if she had that much time now that the Bloodstone was here.

She was about to make a move up to the front door to see if it would reveal any clues when she sensed a presence behind her and spun around to find Lysander standing close behind with his finger to his lips. She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug, which he endured with good enough grace for a few seconds before pulling back. He pointed toward the right-hand corner of the house and led her through the shadows around to the side where a flight of steps hugged the wall, descending to a small door.

Which was locked, though a quick flourish of a wand and a whispered ‘alohomora’ solved that problem. Lori reached for the handle, but her brother held out a restraining hand.

“You know, I’ve often wondered why they teach us that spell in the first year,” he said.

“So we can better satisfy our curiosity?”

“You know what curiosity killed?”

“Never seen that many dead cats…”

“…but then they do have nine lives. Lori, that spell gets us past Muggle locks.”

“Yeah?”

“This is a wizard’s house.”

Lori stopped reaching for the door handle. “I guess there is a reason why you’re in Ravenclaw and I’m not. What do you think…?”

“House elves would be my guess. Their magic’s different from ours so it’s almost impossible to defend against.”

“I take it you haven’t been inside the house then?”

“I only just arrived.”

“What?”

“I, er, I lost sight of the owl. “

“...”

“Give me break. They’re kind of small when you’re following a hundred yards behind. I managed to keep it in sight while I had it silhouetted against the sky, but when we reached this area, it dived down and disappeared against the undergrowth. They are pretty well camouflaged.”

“I thought it was carrying a letter.”

“Yeah, a scrap of parchment in its beak. Didn’t stand out much.”

“So, what did you do?”

“Well, I circled for about half an hour before giving up, then I settled on the highest hill I could find. About a mile that way.” He pointed away from the house. “I figured that when the owl dived down, that must mean it was back in its territory, which meant I had to be close. Then the sun went down, and everything went dark. I pretty much lost hope at that point.”

“Couldn’t you see the lights from the house?”

“Not from that direction. No windows this side.” Lye pointed up at the blank wall to make his point.

“So, then what?”

“I thought about scouting around, but I was afraid I’d lose my vantage point in the dark, so I waited. Eventually the moon rose, and I decided to give it a bit of time to rise high enough to see by. I was still waiting when that witch turned up on her broomstick with you following close behind. I joined the line and followed, left my thestral with yours and came after you.

“So, what do you think we should do now?” He ended his tale.

“Well one of us needs to go for help. I vote you, since you’ve spent the last few hours resting while I’ve been freezing my buns off.”

“That seems… fair, but get help from where?”

“Well, Uncle Harry's at the Ministry in London.”

“Which has to be at least a couple of hours away. Isn’t there anywhere closer?”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

Lysander thought for a moment. “Where do you think we are?” he asked eventually.

“I don’t know. The Peak District maybe?”

“That’s what I figure, which means we’re surrounded by cities. Do you remember when we came here on holiday and Dad showed us that Muggle map?”

Lori shrugged.

“No, you probably wouldn’t. I seem to remember you having one of your sulky days. Look, if we are in the Peak District then we have Manchester to the Northwest,” he lined up with the Moon and pointed, “Nottingham and Derby to the South East, Sheffield to the East, Leeds to the North East…”

“Leeds?”

“That’s right! Your girlfriend comes from Leeds, doesn’t she?”

Lori let it slide. Besides, after Anneka’s visit to the infirmary her brother might well be right about the current state of her relationship with her dorm-mate.

“The trouble is finding them. I mean Leeds is a big place.”

“Anni said her family come from a place called Headingley. It’s a suburb to the Northwest of the city.”

“That narrows it down, but not by much.”

“They have sports fields in Headingley. Two stadiums side by side. One’s a rectangular, er…” Lori snapped her fingers trying to remember, “yeah, rugby pitch, and just to the North is a, er, critic pitch?”

“Cricket,” Lye corrected her.

“Okay Mr Muggle Sports Expert, I guess that means you’ll know a cryptic pitch when you see it. Just North of the sports fields is a church called Cornerstone something or other — it’ll be bigger than the surrounding houses. If you take the road that goes past the church until it bends to the left, you’ll find Ash Gardens on your right. You’re looking for a house with a freshly painted yellow door, and you remember what Anneka’s dad’s car looks like, don’t you?”

“You seem to know the way pretty well. Maybe you should go.”

“I’ve never been. Those are the directions Anni gave me, which means you now know how to find them about as well as me. In fact, you should be able to find it easier since I’ve no idea what a crick-tic pitch looks like…”

“A cricket pitch,” Lye emphasised the word his sister insisted on getting wrong, “looks a bit like a Quidditch pitch but without the hoops.”

“Okay, fine, but that still doesn’t mean I’ll be able to find it any quicker than you. You need to find Myrtle Peasbottom.’”

“Anneka’s mother? That’s… brilliant. She’s a witch, which means…”

“…even if she’s not on the floo network herself, she’s bound to know someone who is.”

“Which means I’ll be able to get through to the Ministry and tell Uncle Harry, then bring him back here.”

“With as many aurors as he can find. Make sure they’re pure blood so they’re immune to the mist.” She fished her earring out of a pocket an handed it over. “That’ll help you find your way back, but you may want to pick out a few landmarks for security. The Moon’s up so you should be able to see well enough to find your way.”

“What are you going to do while I’m away?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Lori fingered her necklace absent mindedly.

“No, Lori, that’s too dangerous. I’m not going to let you.”

“Too late.” She smiled at him a little sadly, closed her eyes and focused on an image. “My brother is most assuredly the best.”

A vague plan had formed while she’d been talking to Lysander. Her priority was to get into the house and try to free her parents. If she couldn’t do that without being seen, then her best chance was to look like someone who belonged. Given the limitations on the charm, that left her with only one choice. Her surroundings altered subtly as her form shifted.

“Why him?” Lysander asked, his face twisting with distaste.

“He’s the only person my size who I know is mixed up in this thing.” She was aware of a slight booming quality as she now spoke with Raphael’s voice. As with when she’d taken Morgana’s form, the voice wasn’t quite the same inside her head as outside.

“And exactly when did you see him in his PJs?”

“The evening of the day I spent as Morgana… Oh come on, you know it wasn’t like that! Euw! No, I hid outside Slytherin waiting for him to sneak out. McGonagall was there too and caught him. I guess he felt he could get away with anything with his new invisibility cloak.

“Look, we’re wasting time. Just one more thing, give me your wand.”

“Why?”

“Dad’s more likely to need it than you.”

“You’re right.” Lysander sighed and handed it over. “Just be careful. I don’t want to have to explain to Mum and Dad why I let you do this.”

“Uncle Harry said the same. I’ll do my best but be quick and you’re less likely to have to.”

Lysander turned and ran off into the night. Lori didn’t waste any more time and pushed her way through the door.

“Master Raphael?”

The voice came from a small figure in the far corner. It held notes of suspicion and confusion.

Lori moved towards it until she could make out the diminutive form, clad in an old sack cloth, luminous eyes looked up at her.

“My dad told me to check on the prisoners,” she commanded.

“Is master sure?”

“Does master seem sure?”

She tried for intimidating and must have managed it because the house elf flinched, then held up its hand and clicked its fingers.

Instantly they were somewhere else. A bowl-shaped depression with rising ground all around them. A faint mist surrounded them, turned luminous by the moonlight and thickening overhead into a bank of cloud that obscured the stars. Dark shapes loomed within the cloud, casting sinister silhouettes that drifted slowly about the depression. The place was damp and chilly and all the more dismal for the presence of the soul-sucking creatures in the dimness above her.

A rough circle of sturdy wooden posts had been driven into the ground, each separated from its neighbour by a gap of ten feet and fitted with a steel cap from which hung thick steel chains. Only two of the posts were occupied. Her mother sat awkwardly at the foot of hers, her arms pulled cruelly upwards. Her father remained on his feet but looked just as exhausted.

“What do you want?” Her father growled.

Lori winced inwardly at her parents’ condition, but she had to be strong. She strode over to him and poked him heavily in the stomach. She couldn’t afford to be gentle, but she was that much smaller than her father, even in Raph’s form, that slapping him would have been awkward.

“Shut-up!” she yelled at him. She didn’t want to rouse the suspicion of the elf behind her, and she wasn’t at all sure how sensitive those large, floppy ears might be. Keeping her back to the small creature, she pulled out Lye’s wand and showed it to her father then, making a show of examining his bindings, she slid it into his sleeve.

Next, she went to her mother, crouching to examine her. Luna turned an exhausted face towards her, looking confused as Lori pulled out her own wand and showed it to her. Comprehension dawned in her eyes while Lori stood to check her mother’s binding. As she had done with her dad, she tried to pass her wand across, but her mum had other ideas.

She lunged forward, causing Lori to take a step back. “You stay away from me, you pig!” she spat. Her face and her voice seethed with rage, but her eyes stared intently, and her head shook an almost imperceptible no.

Even if Lori hadn’t understood, the opportunity to do anything had slipped by. She slipped her wand back into the pocket of the dressing gown her illusory self was wearing and risked the faintest of smiles before turning back to the house elf. “Back to the house,” she snapped and the two of them vanished with a click of small, bony fingers.

“Does master believe that Cringe would not secure the prisoners well enough? Cringe would never…”

“Don’t question my dad, Cringe,” Lori interrupted. The small creature lived up to its name, and Lori couldn’t leave it there. “He said he needed to be sure they were secure.”

“But of course they were secure. Cringe would never…”

“Look, I’m just doing what my father told me. Now shut-up before I go looking for an old sock to give you.”

“No master, please.” Cringe fell to his knees.

Lori took the opportunity to squeeze her pendant and sensed from it the approximate location of the Bloodstone, upstairs and at the opposite end of the house. There was a doorway over on that side of the basement which she guessed had to go up into the house.

“Know your place, Cringe, if you want to keep it.” She didn’t wait for a response but strode across to the door. The poor creature was miserable enough and it made her sick to her stomach to show it any amount of cruelty. She had to get away from it.

Besides, she guessed she’d used up a good five minutes of her charm and needed to move if she was going to do anything else useful before the necklace’s magic ran out. She’d already achieved as much as she’d hoped but hadn’t expected her parents to be held prisoner outside the house. From stories her mother had told them about Dobby, a house elf could apparrate across immense distances with considerable ease, which meant her parents weren’t necessarily close to the house. They now had the means to escape, but chances were good they wouldn’t be able to help take back the stone and casket, which left it up to her and the few minutes remaining on the charm.

The door opened onto a narrow flight of stairs — as she’d hoped it would — that led up to an inconspicuous entrance in the corner of a large hallway, dominated by a wide, sweeping staircase on Lori’s right. To her left, she recognised the mansion’s tall, double front door.

Open double doorways on either side of the entrance hall led through to wide corridors giving access to the two wings of the house. Lori crossed to the opposite side, the sense of her earring’s location still clear in her mind. Behind the second door on the left. She listened for a moment then opened it quietly.

It was a large room, devoid of furniture apart from a small central table which held the stone casket and a lectern to the right of the door with a large, tattered tome sitting on it. The open page showed an insane jumble of sketches and scribbled notes.

“Raphael? What are you doing up?”

Lori spun on the spot to find a tall witch standing directly behind her. The voice was very much like the one she’d heard at the top of the astronomy tower, and there was something about her face that reminded her of Raphael. Her eyes perhaps? She was dressed very differently now in a long, elegant dress, her hair falling down past her shoulder in waves. Her body possessed the natural grace of an athlete, and her face the alabaster perfection of a marble statue. What she lacked was emotion.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Lori stuttered nervously. “I wanted to see…”

“Now’s not the time, sweetheart.” The witch smiled, but there was a coldness to her eyes which countered any comfort there might have been in the gesture, or the words. “No-one goes in now until The Order has assembled.”

“When…”

“It’ll be a few hours at least, dear, probably not till morning. I only just confirmed with everyone that we have reclaimed the Bloodstone, and your father has already indicated that he’s likely to be delayed. Now, back to bed with you and no more questions.” She grasped Lori’s arm lightly and led her back in the direction of the hallway and the stairs.

She could have resisted, but the witch seemed to expect compliance. Lori didn’t want to do anything to raise suspicions, so she allowed herself to be led up the stairs and down to the left to a room that stood more or less directly above where she had just been. As they approached it, it occurred to Lori just what was almost certainly waiting for them on the other side of the door. She swallowed down her panic and allowed her instincts to guide her.

“You don’t have to tuck me in, mother. I’m not a child anymore.”

“As you wish, darling.” There was that same shallow, emotionless smile. “But don’t let me catch you out of bed again until I call for you, or there will be… consequences.” She turned and sauntered back down the corridor without so much as a backward glance. Lori found herself feeling sorry for Raphael, if only very slightly.

She let herself into the room, which was dominated by a large four poster bed. As expected, it was occupied. Lori tip-toed over and, having satisfied herself that the occupant was indeed her would be nemesis, she drew her wand.

“Petrificus totalus,” she whispered with a brief flourish of her wand-hand.

Raphael’s eyes flew open and grew wide as he became aware of his predicament.

The immediate problem dealt with, Lori looked around at the rest of the room. The usual bedroom furniture lined the walls — largely antiques in immaculate condition. The top drawer of a chest of drawers provided her with a pair of socks and a large armoire next to it furnished her with a selection of belts and a silk cravat.

The rigidity of Raphael’s body made it difficult but not impossible for Lori to pry his mouth open and insert a sock, which she then tied in place with the cravat. She rolled his body over and eased his arms back until they were close enough together for her to secure with a belt. Legs similarly tied off at knee and ankle, he wouldn’t be going anywhere, even after her petrificus charm wore off.

Speaking of charms, she was certain the one on her necklace had just about run out of time. She didn’t particularly want it to, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. As Lye had said, it was a cheap charm and she’d been lucky it had lasted this long.

A fire crackled quietly in a small fireplace, dying by degrees and offering only a small amount of warmth. Lori moved near to it and settled onto a stool in front of a dressing table. It was an odd piece of furniture to find in a boy’s room, but she didn’t give it much thought. She gazed at her reflection, trying not to dislike the face that stared back. She made an effort to overcome the natural sneer that settled about the mouth and saw something of Raphael’s mother’s beauty staring back at her.

She sensed a change. So subtle she probably wouldn’t have noticed had she not been sitting quietly. It started off as a tautness in her skin, as though it had been stretched out of shape and was seeking to spring back. Then she felt a gentle trickle of power from somewhere deep inside her and the tautness eased.

On a whim, she removed her necklace and placed it on the dressing table. The face in the mirror remained unchanged, although her clothes reverted to Lysander’s uniform.

She wasn’t sure what it meant or how it had happened, but somehow she had a reprieve. She suspected whatever had brought it would also bring trouble enough into her future, but for now she could continue masquerading as Raphael.

She’d have to do something about the clothes though. There was nothing wrong with Lysander’s uniform, except that it wasn’t anything Raphael Maledicta would be caught dead wearing.

Raphael had started struggling as Lori’s spell faded. Still stiff limbed and constrained by his bonds, all he managed was to shuffle his position until he was facing her.

“Hey Raph,” Lori attempted to match the habitual contemptuous smirk of her adversary. “You don’t mind me borrowing your face for a while, do you?”

Raph’s expression was complex, but overall it seemed he did mind, very much.

“I’ll need to change these clothes though, won’t I? I hope you don’t mind. Shall we see what’s in here?”

She wandered over to the chest of drawers. She’d already raided the top drawer for the sock keeping her prisoner quiet. The second one down was filled with silken boxers in varying shades of grey and white.

“These must be comfy,” she comment, stroking the smooth material. “Not overly imaginative when it comes to colour though, are we?”

The third and bottom drawer held several pyjama sets — also silken and also in shades of grey, though darker.

“I guess I could make use of these,” she said lifting out a set that more or less matched the colour her imagination had conjured for her. Raph struggled against his bonds, his eyes intense with rage. “Maybe we should have a bit more of a look around before we make up our mind though. Let’s see, two wardrobes? Who needs two wardrobes?”

She pulled open the first where she’d found the belts and cravat. It wasn’t overly filled with clothes, but there was a decent selection. One half held mainly suits and shirts — quality stuff: Bespoke tailoring, no question there, and high-end materials. The other contained a good mix of designer jeans and sweatshirts, all of which she knew would look good on Maledicta’s body. It wasn’t her style though. The thought of putting on any of Raph’s clothing — even the silken pyjamas — brought on the same sense of a burden she’d carried around all her life as Lorcan. She didn’t remember feeling the same when she’d put on her brother’s uniform, but her mind had been occupied with other cares at the time.

“No invisibility cloak,” she mused. “Maybe your father doesn’t trust you to look after it after you lost it a couple of times.”

She closed the one wardrobe and turned to the other, which turned out to be locked.

“What does Raphy Waphy have locked away in here that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Lori’s face took on the supercilious sneer she’d seen Raphael use so often. Raph, meanwhile struggled more violently but just as ineffectually against his bonds.

“Alohomora,” Lori flourished her wand. The lock snicked and she pulled the doors open. Her eyes widened as she took in the contents.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” she said, reaching into the froth of frills and lace and pulling out the first hangar she came across. The dress that hung from it was girly in the extreme with short, puffed sleeves, a close-fitting bodice and a very full knee length skirt, belled out by several sewn in crinoline petticoats, all done in a fetching powder blue. Something seemed off though. The style of the dress suited a younger girl and yet…

“That doesn’t make sense though. This is a big house. If you had a sister, she’d have her own room and wouldn’t need to keep her clothes in here.” She held the dress against her. It looked like a perfect fit. She looked across at Raphael who had stopped struggling and instead was studiously avoiding Lori’s eyes, the flush spreading across his face just visible in the subdued light.

Lori turned back to the wardrobe. To the right-hand side, a stack of shelves held a selection of unnecessarily frilly underwear — again more childish than anything. Camisoles rather than bras and ruffled knickers. Lacy socks and stockings of varying lengths. The floor of the wardrobe held dozens of pairs of shoes — sandals decorated with flowers or sequins, t-bar patent leather flats, several court shoes with kitten heels and tiny buckles to hold them on. The ones to the left seemed much too small, but they increased in size towards the right. Lori lifted one of her feet and held it beside one of the larger shoes. It looked like a reasonable fit a first glance.

“You don’t have a sister, do you?” Lori asked. Raphael ignored her. “I think these are yours, or at least bought for you. Did your mother want a daughter or something? I mean by the looks of it she’s been doing this to you since you were a little kid.” The dresses over on the left were much smaller, the smallest seeming about the right size for a five-year-old. “Is that why you had such a problem with me? Because I chose to do something you’ve been forced to do all your life?”

Raphael seemed to shrink in on himself.

“Does your dad know about this?” The question came in a flash of insight and Raph’s look of sudden panic confirmed her suspicions. “That’s it, isn’t it? She uses this to control you. The locked wardrobe in your room is a constant threat of what she’ll do to you if you step out of line. What she said to me earlier, that I should stay in here until she calls for me or there would be consequences. This is what she meant, isn’t it? Your family is messed up, Raph.”

Lori stared at the dress for a while, trying to imagine what she’d look like wearing it. She sat in front of the dressing table mirror and held it up to herself. Raphael was no athlete, but his shoulders were broadening as his masculine physique began to establish itself. The habitual sneer hid much of his resemblance to his mother. Combine that with his boyish haircut and you had an appearance that clashed distinctly with the frills and flounces in his hands and in the wardrobe.

She could think of only one reason for such clothes — to humiliate the wearer. To fill him with such dread at ever being found out, especially by his father, that he would be cowed into obedience. Perhaps an obedience that became so habitual over time that it remained even when he was miles from home.

Once more she felt a brief surge of sympathy towards the boy trussed up on the bed. To just what degree had his words to her, when she’d disguised herself as Morgana, genuinely reflected his thoughts and feelings? To what degree had they been a reflection of his parents’ ideals?

She decided to try something. It probably counted as unnecessary cruelty towards Raphael, but it might help her understand him better. Besides, she’d had enough of pretending to be a boy. Whatever she ended up looking like, she felt the knots that had been tightening inside her since she’d put on Lysander’s uniform loosening at the thought of wearing the dress rather than just holding it.

She picked out everything she needed to go with the it, including some woollen stockings to help protect herself against the chill along with the best matching shoes she could find, then took refuge behind one of the wardrobe doors where her captive couldn’t see her change.

The clothes fitted as well as she expected. There was no doubt she looked like a very obvious boy in a little girl party dress. She wished she had Anneka’s hairbrush or anything that might soften the masculine appearance of her body. Oddly she didn’t find her appearance as ridiculous as she’s thought. Maybe it was in the way she stood, or something in her eyes, but somehow the girl inside her remained visible.

She felt her inner self emerge from that place where she’d spent so much of her life hiding and the weight of pretence lifted from her shoulders. She settled in front of the dressing room mirror and let out a sigh, part relief from feeling some of her normality return, part frustration at her appearance. She suspected it wouldn’t be so many months before her own body looked so evidently masculine.

She noticed Raphael in the mirror glaring at her with a mixture of fury and terror. She turned to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to understand me,” she said, “not after you’ve had all this done to you.” Her wave took in the clothes she was wearing and the wardrobe they’d come from. “In the same way, I won’t pretend I understand what you’ve been through, though at a guess there have to be some similarities.

“I imagine being forced to wear clothes like this against your will must feel horribly wrong to you, and scary because you’re being made to do something you feel is so embarrassing. When I wear clothes like those,” she pointed at her brother’s uniform which she’d folded neatly and place on the dresser, “I also feel wrong, and kind of trapped, because I’m being made to do something I don’t feel is right for me. Can you understand that?”

Raphael made an attempt to speak, but all that came out was a muffled grunt.

“I guess I could take that gag off so we could have a civilised conversation, but I‘m not sure what you’d do. You might be so afraid of your mum finding me looking like you and dressed like this when I don’t have to be that you’d keep quiet, or you might be too afraid of what she’ll do to you if she finds out you had an opportunity to warn her and did nothing.

“It’s also quite possible that you hate me enough to shout out a warning and not worry about the consequences. Either way, it seems safer to keep you quiet.”

Raph glowered and there was something in his expression that suggested Lori had guessed right.

“What do you think would happen if I were to wait for the Order to arrive, your dad included, and then go down to join them dressed like this?”

The glower remained, but behind it, fear seemed to have an upper hand over his hatred.

“That’s what I thought,” Lori continued. “It won’t be as bad as you think though. In fact, it’ll be for the best, you’ll see. The worst thing you can do with a secret like this is keep it hidden.”

“Gmph grgl rmph grmph.”

“Look, it’s not going to be you going out dressed like this is it? It’s going to be that weird kid from school who currently looks like you. Sure, there’ll be some confusion and misunderstanding at first, but when the dust settles, none of it will be your fault. And you’ll be able to tell your dad what your mum’s been forcing you to do. It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

“Grmph mmph fmph!” Anger making a comeback.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but this is my choice. Unless you can escape from your bonds and grab me before I petrify you again. You can’t expect me to feel too much sympathy after the way you’ve treated me this year. You know, I didn’t have a lot of choice when I kind of went public, but it’s turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. The people that love me most in my life have accepted this, and I’m sure the same will be true for you.

“Assuming you have any people in your life who love you.”

A sliver of moonlight peaked through the too casually drawn curtains. Lori slid through next to the window and gazed out over the silvery landscape, wondering where her brother might be now — her mother and father too, for all that.

She gazed around at the nearby peaks looking for any hint of where the bowl-shaped depression might be with its pool of white mist over the top. Chances were it would be a long way away though. Nothing nearby seemed as bleak as that place had been, and it made sense to keep something like that a long way from your back yard.

She hoped her parents had managed to escape, but she couldn’t raise her hopes high enough to expect their help. Most of that was on Lye.

She estimated he’d been gone nearly an hour now. The thestral’s were fast when they had to be, but the Peak DIstrict was pretty big too, and quite a long way from Leeds. Lori recalled the day their father had shown them the Muggle map. It’s true she’d not been in the best of moods, but she remembered it well enough. Depending on where they were in the region, Leeds could be anywhere between due North and due East and any distance between twenty and forty miles from where Anneka’s parents lived. Even assuming the best and Lye had found his bearings quickly, he had between ten and twenty minutes of flying at high speed to get to the right area, then maybe another ten or fifteen minutes of searching before he even found the right place. How long it would take to contact the ministry and arrange for a suitable response was anybody’s guess.

As she watched, a dark speck detached itself from the sky and swooped low, expanding into the form of a man on a broom. Hope blossomed and wilted almost in the same instant as the new arrival landed then walked up towards the front door and out of Lori’s sight. If this was the first of The Order to arrive, time was running out.

She considered her options. She could try using axio to summon either the stone or the casket — She remembered the Latin from her previous attempts — but the stone might already be anchored by some enchantment and simply trying might alert her adversaries to her presence. Besides, even if she was successful in calling the stone to her, that still left her upstairs in a strange house in the middle of nowhere with no easy way of escape. She thought she could just make out the shape of the thestral that had brought her here near the edge of the grounds, but it was several hundred yards away and it might not recognise her in Raphael’s form. Besides, it was too far to run with Maledicta’s mother and whoever else had just turned up chasing her. She did have the second earring, but five minutes of invisibility would barely get her to the door.

As she stared out into the night, she caught the sight of two more distant shapes moving across the stars. They grew into two more brooms and riders approaching in formation. They landed and approached the front door in the same way as the previous one. And then there were four.

Decision made. For all that she felt the need to act, her best course now was to wait and hope that her brother and her uncle didn’t take too long getting here.

The window was draughty and she shivered from the cold. Posh and expensive the house may have been, but it wasn’t modern which meant it didn’t have the advantages of modern technology. The windows were single glazed sash windows and didn’t do much to keep the heat in. The cold combined with everything else she’d experienced that night, and fatigue washed over her.

She walked back to the bed, checked Raphael’s bonds and pulled the bed covers over him before making her way round to the opposite side. It was large enough for four people to share comfortably, so she was able to keep a comfortable distance between herself and her captor.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she told him. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

Raphael’s muffled response was indecipherable but had a grumbling quality to it. She smiled as her imagination filled in the blanks and her head sank into the soft pillow.

Chapter 15 – And into the flames by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	There was quite a lot that didn’t read quite right in this chapter. I’ve fixed most of it, but may want to come back to it at some time. Please let me know if anything feels ‘off’ – even a little.

-oOo-
Lori woke with a start. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep — hadn’t thought she could — and now she had no idea how much time had passed with everything preying on her mind — but here she was. A regular susurration from beside her indicated Raphael had also succumbed to Morpheus’ enticement despite the discomfort of his bonds.

She climbed out of bed and shivered. Sometime during her slumber, the fire had died completely allowing the night’s chill to invade the bedroom. She cast lumos, cupping the tip of her wand in her other hand, and examined the fireplace, but there was no resurrecting the fire. She turned her attention to Raphael’s second wardrobe, where a short search revealed a woollen shawl and several pairs of thick tights.

The chill encouraged a swift change, after which she crept over to the door and listened. Once she’d satisfied herself there was no-one nearby, she opened the door a crack and listened again. A gentle buzz of conversation made its way up the stairs. She couldn’t make out individual voices, but estimated numbers at somewhere between one and two dozen. It didn’t help much. She had no idea how many people made up the Order of Purity, but suspected they were close to all being there. It sounded more like a party than any sort of serious undertaking, which suggested they were a way off doing anything she needed to worry about.

She walked over to the window and slipped between the curtains. The moon was definitely higher in the sky and shining from an entirely different direction, suggesting she’d slept for hours rather than minutes. Details of the grounds stood out in sharply contrasting areas of black and silvery grey. Nothing moved, which meant either Uncle Harry was taking his sweet time coming or he and his team of aurors were exceptionally good at hiding.

She settled onto the window ledge finding it comfortably wide enough for her. She drew her knees close to her chest and wrapped the shawl tightly around her. At least this way, with hard wood under her backside and the cold sheeting off the glass, she was less likely to fall back to sleep. Squinting, she could just make out her thestral waiting patiently for her return, but otherwise nothing moved.

She passed the time scanning the hilltops, looking once more for any indication of her parents’ prison. She figured it should stand out with the moonlight shining off the layer of mist, but there was nothing. She was just beginning to nod off again when she heard a light tapping beside her.

She focused on what appeared to be a bronze knut spinning gently on the other side of the window. As she watched, it moved forward and tapped against the window a second time. She scrambled off the window ledge and unlatched the window. It was stiff and took most of her strength to open even a crack. Fortunately, that was all the coin needed. The moment Lori had lifted the window half an inch, it swooped in and hovered in front of her. Heat started leaching out through the small gap the moment it appeared, so she pushed the window closed and latched it in place before grabbing the coin out of the air.

“Lori?” Uncle Harry’s whispered voice held a tinny quality. “What are you doing in there?”

“It’s a bit of a long story. How did you know it was me?”

“Your brother told me you made yourself look like Raphael, and I doubt he’d choose to wander around in a dress. Tell me what’s happened.”

“Where are you?”

“Look at the bush in front of your window.”

She complied and a patch of air wavered briefly before a disembodied hand emerged and waved at her.

“Okay. Is it just you? Only I think it’s going to take a bit more than just the two of us to…”

“Lori…” Harry bit back on his frustration. “Yes, I have a group of aurors with me. I’m the only one in the grounds right now, but they’re nearby. Now will you please tell me what’s happened!”

Lori recounted everything from the headlong race back to the school, to the more sedate chase to their current location, her reunion with Lye, her encounter with her parents, right the way through to being caught by Raphael’s mother and the odd sensation she’d felt when the charm on her necklace ran out.

“That we’ll have to figure out later,” Harry told her. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me how come you’re wearing a dress. I mean given that you currently still look like Raphael.”

“Just because I look like him doesn’t make me any less me. I found these clothes in a wardrobe and I felt I’d spent enough time this evening pretending to be something I’m not.

“Besides, how do you think they’ll react if I go downstairs looking like this?”

“You really don’t like Raphael much, do you?”

“Not much, no – he hasn’t given me any reason to. But this isn’t about payback; I’m not trying to humiliate him. That’d be too much like the way he’s treated me most of this year, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone — not even him. This is about creating a distraction. I didn’t know if you were going to get here in time, so I figured I needed a plan in case you didn’t.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, right now it sounds like they’re all just chatting downstairs, but I’m guessing sooner or later they’ll get down to something more serious. Raph’s mum said something that suggested they were waiting for his dad to turn up, so I was going to wait until then.

“If you hadn’t come by then, I’d have headed downstairs in my party frock and barged into the meeting. With a bit of luck, I’d have been able to get Raph’s mum and dad arguing. Then in the confusion I would have used incendio on Ekrisdis’ notebook, grabbed the Bloodstone and tried to get away before anyone figured out what was going on…”

“Not bad. Gutsy, even. It probably wouldn’t have worked, but as plans go, it’s worthy of any Gryffindor.”

“Why does it always have to be about house? I mean you don’t have to be a Gryffindor to be brave!”

“You’re right and I’m sorry. If I needed anyone to prove that point, I wouldn’t have to look much further than you. Most witches and wizards I know, when presented with a tight spot like this one, would go out of their way to avoid it. It takes someone really special – from any house – not to turn away from a situation that needs facing.

“Gryffindor may value courage above everything else, but they don’t have a monopoly on it. Your mum was a Ravenclaw who knew how to fight when it was necessary, and your great grandfather was a Hufflepuff who was much the same. I see both of them in you Lori.

“That being said, we are here and you’re not on your own, so what say we come up with a better plan?”

“Sure. Just tell me what to do.”

“Good girl. Heads up, it seems things are going to happen sooner than I thought. I’ve just received a report of another broom incoming, and it looks like Augustus Maledicta is riding it. I suspect they’ll get on with whatever they have planned soon after he arrives.”

“My aurors are hiding in the hills around here but it’ll take about five minutes for them all to fly in once we commit, so we could use your distraction. I don’t want you trying anything too dramatic, but if you can keep them occupied while we’re getting into position, we’ll have a much better chance of pulling this off successfully without anyone getting hurt. How do you feel about that?”

“Okay, I think I can manage that.”

“Great! Keep your eyes and ears open. As soon as it seems like they’re getting organised, let me know and get on with your distraction.”

“How do I let you know? I mean, I’m guessing the coin, but how does it work?”

“Give it a good squeeze. After a couple of seconds, it’ll sort of buzz in your fingers. Say my full name and it’ll make mine buzz too. I’ll be able to listen in on everything that’s going on with you.”

Lori slipped off the windowsill and watched from the shadows as one more broom and rider approached from the south and glided in for a landing in front of the house. The familiar form of Raphael’s father dismounted and climbed up to the front door.

She crept over to the bedroom door and opened it a crack. The sounds of chatting faded away to nothing, then when all was quiet, one voice rang out. Lori couldn’t make out the words but thought it did sound something like Mr Maledicta. Other voices followed, asking questions if the inflection in the voices was anything to go by.

A quick scan of the corridor satisfied her that she was alone. She slipped out of Raphael’s bedroom and crept towards the top of the large staircase. Glancing over the balcony, she saw it was empty, but decided not to go further just yet since she could now make out the words coming from beneath her.

“Enough!” Augustus Maledicta’s voice rose above the quiet murmur going on around him, killing it. “Pansy did her job,” he continued. “There was some risk and, unfortunately for her, she was caught. My own son put himself at considerably higher risk and managed to escape, albeit by the skin of his teeth. We all play our part and accept the risks that come with it.

“There’s nothing we can do for her right now. The Ministry has her and we don’t have the means to free her. The experiment with mors mundani worked at Hogwarts, or would have if it hadn’t been for that interfering Scamander child. We know the concept is good and that pure bloods aren’t affected by the mist. We also know that we need to keep the Bloodstone under our control so those meddlers in the Ministry don’t get hold of it again.

“My fellow order members, although we are down on numbers, we are ready to bring the gift of Ekrisdis to the world. Are you with me?”

The murmur of ascent more or less matched the degree of inspiration in the speech, but it was nonetheless ascent. The chanting began. Augustus called out a phrase in Latin and the gathered witches and wizards echoed it back. Lori understood an occasional word like lapis or sanguinum, but otherwise it was gibberish.

The time had come. She took a deep breath, trying to settle her suddenly fluttering heart, and squeezed the coin until it vibrated with a ticklish buzz. “Harry Potter,” she told it clearly, then set off down the stairs.

The dress had no pockets — one of the few things she found truly annoying about girl clothes — so she kept the coin cupped in the palm of her left hand. In her right she held her wand ready but folded back against her arm in an effort to hide it.

She reached the doorway and took another steadying breath. Time to make an entrance. She pushed the door open and looked around the room until she found Raphael’s mother. The other occupants had fallen silent in response to her abrupt entrance, which gave her the opportunity she wanted.

“Mummy,” she said in her best petulant voice. “You said you’d call me when it was time.”

Raphael’s mother recovered quickly. She made her way across the room and grabbed Lori by the arms. “What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed angrily, showing more emotion than she’d managed all evening.

“Ow! Mummy, you’re hurting me!” Lori whined just a little louder.

“Raphael?” Augustus Maledicta was perhaps the slowest in the room to show any signs of recovery. He stood behind the lectern with Ekrisdis’ tatty notebook open in front of him. “What…? What the…? What are you wearing?”

“Mummy likes me to dress like this when you’re not here. I don’t want to, but she makes me.”

“Raphael, this is neither the time nor the place,” Maledicta’s mother said through clenched teeth, her ordinarily beautiful face twisted into a rictus of rage.

“Why not, Mummy? Don’t you want to show off your pretty daughter to all your friends?” Lori dropped the whining voice in favour of Raphael’s signature sarcastic tone.

“Get back to your room!” Mrs Maledicta’s eyes blazed with a white-hot incandescence. She gripped Lori tightly enough to hurt and pushed her back through the open doorway. “We are going to have a very long conversation about this tomorrow.”

“Septima?” Augustus turned to his wife. “What’s the meaning of this? What… Why… Why is our son wearing a dress?”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Augustus. We’ve more important things to do right now.”

Lori felt the grip loosen slightly. Her diversion would be altogether too short if she didn’t do something about it. She spun around hard, twisting out of the older woman’s hold, and aimed her wand at the lectern.

“Incendio!” she shouted, releasing a tongue of flame from the tip of her wand. The room’s occupants dived to get out of its way, meaning it struck its target unhindered. The Regnum Caligo erupted in a miniature conflagration drawing every eye in the room. “Axio sanguinum lapis arca!” Lori yelled and the Bloodstone in its box leapt across the room into her arms.

Whether it had been tethered there with enchantments, she couldn’t tell. The casket was in sight and close enough that her own summoning charm overrode anything else. She turned and ran from the room.

“Oh no you don’t you little freak!” Raph’s mother seemed to have worked out who she was. “Crucio!”

Lori’s body exploded with the most intense pain she could imagine. She screamed and fell to the ground, several yards short of the great house’s entrance hall.

“You’re not my son!” Septima Maledicta snarled. “Finite!” she screamed and through her pain, Lori felt her face and body trying to rearrange itself, fighting against the magical leakage that held her disguise in place.

“You don’t get to ruin my plans, you little witch. Not when we’ve waited so long, not when we’re so close. Avada…”

“Avis!” Lori managed to get her limbs under control and cast the spell in time to interrupt her adversary. A loud bang sounded, and a stream of tiny birds leapt out of the end of her wand into the older witch’s face. She recoiled, swatting them out of the way, stood back and readied her wand.

“Expeliarmus!” a familiar voice shouted from the hallway and Septima’s wand flew out of her grasp. With a thunder of feet, a dozen bodies rushed past from the hallway and the air was filled with the zip and zing of duelling spells. The fight lasted barely seconds with most of the defenders still prone from Lori’s surprise attack.

“You could have waited, Lori,” Harry said reaching down to help her up. “We were about ready to come in. Oh!” At the last he noticed her face. He fought to hide his expression, but enough of his consternation slipped through.

“What is it?” Lori asked climbing to her feet. She felt oddly off balance.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, but we’d better get you back to Hogwarts as quickly as we can. Rowena,” he called into the scene of the recent battle. “Is everything under control?”

“Yes sir,” A severe looking young witch with jet black hair appeared in the doorway. “More or less anyway. We have them all in custody and Ekrisdis’ book is okay for all that it’s a bit crispy round the edges. Just looking for the er… Ah, there it is.” She retrieved the casket with the Bloodstone in it from where Lori had dropped it.

“Can I just…?” Lori asked reaching for the casket.

“What? Whoah!” the young witch recoiled from Lori.

“What? What is it?” Lori said, alarmed.

“It’s nothing,” Harry said, pushing his colleague gently away. “Nothing we can’t sort out once we get you back to school, anyway.”

“But what…?”

“Lori, please. Between Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey we’ll have you sorted before you know it. I had nastier things happen to me while I was at Hogwarts. It always looked worse than it actually was and, in most cases, it was fixed in a really short while.

“Let me apparate you to the school and we’ll get it sorted. There’s no need to upset yourself more than necessary.”

“Okay, but can I just get my earring back, please? It’s under the cushion in the casket.”

Rowena twitched a sceptical eyebrow then opened the stone box and felt about. The second eyebrow rose to join the first when she found and pulled out the missing earring.

“It has a finding charm on it,” Lori explained briefly. “I used it to follow Mrs Maledicta here with the box. I came by thestral. He’s in the grounds, over that way. He said he’d wait for me.

“Oh, and Raphael’s upstairs, in the room above here. I tied him up and gagged him, so he’ll need letting free.”

“Anything else?” Harry asked, bemused.

“Well, there’s also a house elf named Cringe down in the cellar who knows where my parents are being held, or maybe were being held. I managed to get Lysander’s wand to Dad. I don’t know if he’ been able to do anything with it.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Rowena said before turning back to the room full of prisoners. She had her voice raised even as Harry put his hand on Lori’s shoulder.

Lori felt as though she’d been jammed in a vice. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything in the sudden blackness. She wanted to scream but couldn’t make a sound. Just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. She found herself standing with her uncle outside Merlin’s gate.

“Mum’s gentler when she apparates,” she said.

“Sorry. Come on we should get you inside.”

She still found it awkward to move. Something felt wrong with her body and when she attempted to walk, she lost her balance. Fortunately, Harry still had his arm on her shoulder. He steadied her then scooped her up into his arms and walked into the castle.

-oOo-

“Oh, my stars!” Madame Pomfrey exclaimed upon seeing Lori’s face.

“What? Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

Harry deposited her on a nearby bed and settled into the chair beside it. Professor McGonagall appeared somewhat out of breath. She’d noticed Harry and Lori’s arrival and had rushed down immediately from her office. Her face fell the moment she saw Lori close up.

“Oh, my sweet child,” she moaned. “Why didn’t you listen?”

“What do you mean?” Lori felt her blood run cold.

“I told you not to cast magic, especially not on yourself.”

“But I didn’t. I used the charm on the necklace Lysander gave me for Christmas.”

“May I see?”

Lori handed the necklace over. “It goes with these earrings,” she said, showing her ears. “They have a finding charm on them so if you squeeze one it’ll tell you where the others are. It’s how I tracked the stone.”

“Smart,” Harry said.

“Perhaps so.” McGonagall examined the pendant closely. “But it doesn’t explain your current predicament.”

“Whoever sold them to Lye offered to add some one-shot charms for a few extra sickles. Each of the earrings would make you invisible for five minutes and the pendant would allow you to look like someone else of similar size for about half an hour. I used the charm on the pendant to look like Raphael.”

“And it didn’t wear off,” McGonagall finished.

“Well, no. I kind of felt it run out when I was in Raph’s room earlier. I kind of felt weird — like my skin sort of stretched out like a rubber band for a few seconds, then it eased. The illusion of his clothes disappeared then, but I still looked like him.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“I don’t know. A few hours, I think. I, er, sort of fell asleep.”

“But you still looked like Raphael when you woke up.”

“Yes. That’s how I managed to distract the Order. I kind of walked in on them dressed like this.”

“What happened then?”

“Well, Raph’s mum figured out who I was and cast finite on me, that’s when I felt myself change. Can I see, please? I need to know what has you so worried.”

“I can’t find any residue of the charm here.” McGonagall seemed not to have heard Lori’s request. “Do the earrings still have their magic?”

“Well, the finding charm still works. I did use the invisibility charm on this one to get away from the infirmary, but this one still hasn’t been used.” She took off the earring she’d hidden in the casket and handed it across. “Will you please let me see what I look like?”

“In a minute Lori. I want to see what we can do about it first, and time matters. Now let’s see…”

She studied the earring closely, waved her wand over it and muttered a few words. Her face turned grimmer as she worked. Eventually she turned her attention back to Lori.

“When the pendant charm ended, do you remember what you were thinking?”

“Er…” Lori thought hard. “Not really. I guess I was thinking it was a shame the spell was going to end. It would have been a whole lot harder to do anything to stop them if I looked like myself.”

McGonagall nodded to herself. “This sort of charm really ought to be outlawed,” she said. “It’s designed to draw the magic it needs from you. To store all the magic needed to cast and maintain the spell would have needed a lot more than a sickle’s worth of magic. Instead, there’s just enough here to draw what’s needed from you for the duration of the spell.

“I’ll need to consult with Professor Flitwick on the matter because he’s more of an expert on charms, but what I suspect happened is the disguise charm simply put up an illusion of the person you wanted to look like.”

“It fooled the house elf, Cringe.”

“Well, if it did that I have to wonder if he was looking that closely. One of the downsides of keeping a house elf scared is that it may be too distracted by its fear to notice little things.

“I have a feeling that your subconscious desire to keep the appearance of Raphael beyond the limits of the pendant’s charm acted on the part of you that’s leaking magic to make it a physical change in you. When the illusion dropped, the appearance of Raphael’s clothing went, but your desire to keep looking like him found the means to alter your appearance.

“Then when Septima — Mrs Maledicta — cast finite on you to end the magic, she did so against the same resistance I encountered undoing the felis sensorium, only she was a little less successful in reversing the effects.”

“What does that mean?”

McGonagall nodded at Madame Pomfrey who, at some stage in the proceedings, had withdrawn long enough to find a hand mirror. She passed it to the headmistress.

“I need you to prepare yourself for a bit of a shock, Lori. This won’t be easy.” She handed the mirror to the young girl who looked in it and gasped.

Her face was divided into two parts by a diagonal line that ran from the top of her head across the bridge of her nose and down through her right cheek. Beneath the line, she recognised herself, her chin, her mouth, her nose, her left eye, but above it she still retained Raphael’s appearance. His right eye, his high forehead, his short hair. His head was larger than Lori’s, so it gave something of the effect that she was wearing a mask of Raphael’s face, the bottom part of which had been torn away. Close examination of the division between the two parts showed them joined by an irregular ridge with no break in the skin.

“Am I stuck like this?” she asked. “Am I going to look like this for the rest of my life?” She looked down at her arms and legs, her right arm larger, hairier, more muscular than her left, her left leg longer than her right.

“I don’t know, Lori, but I think not. Whether we’ll be able to get you back to looking just as you were, that I can’t promise. At the very least, you’re due a growth spurt soon and that should even out your face and your body. Beyond that, there are a great many things we can try, both here and at St Mungo’s and, whilst I think that you’ll have to accept some degree of permanent change from your experience, you are at a flexible age which should make it easier to repair most of the harm done. It will take time though.”

“How long?”

“That is a very good question and one that I don’t feel able to answer with any degree of precision. If I were to guess — and it’s only a guess mind — I would say a matter of weeks or possibly months.”

“I wish my mum and dad were here.”

“We’re working on that, Lor,” Harry said. “Would your brother do in the meantime?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for him to see me looking like this.”

“You may not have a great deal of option there,” Harry risked a slight grin. “If I know Lysander, he’ll be breaking the door down to see you by the end of the day.”

“Besides,” Madame Pomfrey said as she prepared a bed for her young patient, “if you’re going to be weeks in the mending, I have no intention of having you hide in here for all that time. You are going to have to face your schoolmates sooner or later.”

“I suppose so. all right, but can you show him a picture of what I look like before he comes to see me. I don’t know if I could handle watching his first impression of my currentl appearance.”

“That can be arranged,” Professor McGonagall said, straightening her shoulders. “I shall ask Professor Spooner to bring down his daguerreotype.”

Harry stood and straightened his robes. “And I need to see what we’ve found out about your parents. I’ll send you news as soon as I have any.”

The two left together leaving Lori with Madame Pomfrey who helped the young girl out of Raphael’s dress and into a nightdress. She tried not to react at the sight of Lori’s transformed patchwork body, but it took all her years’ experience not to do so.

Lori may not have noticed in any case. The night’s events had caught up with her at last and she fell into a deep sleep the instant her head touched the pillow.

-oOo-

Lori woke to find her mother smiling down at her.

“There you are,” Luna said reaching down to brush Lori’s hair to one side. This took more imagination than effort for both of them since the top of Lori’s head mainly sported Raphael’s short haircut.

“Mum, you’re all right!” Lori exclaimed, launching herself forward to embrace her mother.

“We have you to thank for that, sweetheart,” Lori’s father said from the other side of the room.

“Dad!”

Rolf moved in to sit on the bed next to his wife. His face looked drawn, but his smile was strong and genuine. “You look like you’ve been through the wars a bit,” he said. “That’s a Muggle expression I picked up recently.”

Luna smiled at him and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Professor M has been telling us about your adventures, you and Lye,” she said. “It makes what we went through like a… what was that thing love?”

“A bit of a cakewalk,” Rolf supplied.

Lori didn’t have much of an idea what that was supposed to mean, but she wasn’t much bothered. “So, what did happen to you?” she asked.

“Well, er…” Luna began.

“Start at the beginning,” Lori interrupted. “From when you disappeared.”

“All right,” Rolf said, taking over. “We were in our room, waiting to hear when we could come visit you, when the door opened.”

“No-one came in,” Luna said. “Or at least we didn’t see anyone come in. This is Hogwarts though, so it might have been nargles.”

“It wasn’t though.” Rolf again took over. “It was that Maledicta boy. He had an invisibility cloak and something I couldn’t quite see in his hand. He shouted into it, ‘Now Cringe,’ and before either your mum or I could reach for our wands, a house elf appeared and clicked his fingers.”

“The next thing we knew,” Luna said, “we were up in that place where you found us. Raphael had his wand with him, so we had no way to fight him. The house elf put us in manacles and the two of them vanished.”

“We had no idea where we were,” Rolf picked up the tale, “just that we were in a that shallow bowl with a thick white cloud overhead. It was cold and damp and the chains kept us from getting any rest.

“When darkness came, so did the Dementors, at least that’s what I assume they were. We couldn’t see anything, but we could feel them flying above us, sucking all the hope out of the air. We couldn’t see how anyone would be able to find us.

“After the moon came up, we began to see them shifting about in the clouds. It looked like they were testing their boundaries, seeing If they might risk leaving the cloud to attack us.”

“That’s when you turned up,” Luna said. “I’d just about given in to despair. Your dad, of course, was doing whatever he could to keep them back…”

“I was shouting at them for what good it did.”

“Then I heard him shouting at someone else, then the next thing I was looking at you. You were wearing that boy’s skin, but I could see it was you inside.”

“You tried to attack me, Mum.”

“I couldn’t let you give me your wand.”

“You didn’t need to,” Lori’s dad said. “You’d already given me Lysander’s. After you disappeared, I was able to free your mother and myself, but then we were stuck. We tried getting through the mist, but the moment we entered it, the Dementors advanced on us. I cast my Patronus which kept us safe while we retreated, but we had no idea how thick the mist was. We couldn’t risk it.”

“So, we settled down to wait. Your dad’s Patronus discouraged them from attacking us and we figured we could hold out until sunrise. Dementors don’t much care for sunlight, and we figured we could escape then. Only we didn’t have to wait that long. A bunch of ministry aurors arrived with that house elf and apparated us out of there a few hours ago. We came straight here, but by then you were asleep.”

“We weren’t about to be kept away from you a second time though,” Rolf said.

“Your dad made a bit of a stink and eventually Poppy let us in so long as we promised to keep quiet. We’ve been here waiting for you to wake up since.”

“What about Lye?”

“He’s here too.” Luna pointed at the bed next to Lori’s where a small figure huddled beneath the blankets. “He had quite a night too. We thought it best to let you both sleep.”

It was still dark outside, which didn’t mean a great deal in the highlands in winter. Lori felt hungry, but mostly she still felt tired. She lay back.

“So, what happens now?”

“Now you get better.” Lori’s dad took a hold of her hand – the one that was most like her own. “I think your Uncle Harry may want a word with you later, but from what his aurors were saying, this mess seems to have been sorted. Mostly thanks to you if I understood half of what they were telling me. So now we do whatever it takes to put you back together.”

Lori was asleep before her father had finished, but she heard enough to feel comforted and hopeful.

-oOo-

When she awoke next it was to the feel of a gentle tug on her hair. She sat up and looked about her.

“Good, you’re awake,” Anneka’s cheerful voice said. “Now just keep sitting up like that and keep your back to me. It’ll be easier like this.”

“What are you doing here? I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Well, you don’t always get what you want, do you? Your mum said it would be okay if I came in and I figured you’d feel better if I sorted your hair out for you.”

Lori pulled away and turned to face her friend. She scanned her eyes for any hint of horror or sympathy and found it lurking in lines of concern her feigned good cheer couldn’t mask.

“Do you really think brushing my hair is going to make much of a difference to this?” She could hear the bitterness in her own voice but couldn’t help it.

Anneka looked away from the intensity in her friend’s eyes then dipped her head, hiding her own face behind her curtain of hair for a moment. Only a moment though. She raised her head and angrily wiped away the tears that had so rapidly flooded her eyes.

“No,” she said. “No, I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference, but it’s all I can think to do. And if it makes any difference at all, isn’t it worth doing? Look, what happened to you sucks big time, I get that, but in case you haven’t noticed, you’re surrounded by people who love and care for you, one in particular who is desperate to do something to help? Will you let me do that?”

“How can you love this?”

“I didn’t fall in love with your looks, you idiot. Don’t you remember what I said to you back then? Why I decided so quickly you were a friend and more than a friend?”

Lori’s eyes drifted away and focused on the space between them. She couldn’t find a retort.

“Everything you did from the first moment I met you was about putting other people first. Your brother, me, the rest of Hufflepuff House. You put your feelings aside and did whatever you could to make us feel better, even when it made you feel worse. That’s the Lori Scamander I fell in love with, and that’s the Lori Scamander I’m still in love with, regardless of what she looks like.”

Lori looked up at that, surprised.

“Just ‘cos you’re finding it hard to like yourself at the moment doesn’t mean that the rest of us have the same problem, so let us in. And let me finish brushing your hair. You look kind of stupid with it half done.”

Lori managed a smirk. “You’re calling me stupid?”

“Never. You’re as clever as they come, which is all the more reason why you should let me help you not look it. Now turn around.”

Lori did so, feeling the tension inside her ease, then ease even more as Anneka’s gentle caressing brush strokes worked their magic.

“Besides,” her friend said, “everything’s going to be all right.”

“Because of faith?”

“You remember?”

“When good things can happen, you find ways of making them happen, okay, we’ll try it your way.”

“I knew you’d come round.”

“It really doesn’t bother you that there’s bits of me look like Raph?”

Anneka stopped her ministrations and turned Lori to face her. “I don’t see him when I look at you,” she said. “You have none of his nastiness in your eyes. All I see are a few unfortunate consequences of my amazing friend putting herself at risk for the sake of the rest of us. I know you don’t care for it much, but you should wear it like a badge of courage.”

“No. That’s going too far.”

“Like you and your modesty.”

“Hey, you’ve brushed my hair enough. My turn.” Lori reached for the brush in Anneka’s hands.

“Not just yet.” She reached for the hand mirror Madame Pomfrey had left and held it up to show Lori.

For a brief, bright moment, Lori’s heart lifted. Under the ministrations of Anneka’s magic hairbrush, her hair had lengthened and increased in volume, taking on a golden, honey-blonde hue. It cascaded over her shoulders in shimmering waves, and a part of it had been brushed to fall over the right side of her face, obscuring the misshapen part that still resembled Raphael. For that fleeting instant she was herself again and all was well with the world.

Then reality crashed in. She lifted an oversized and somewhat hairy hand to touch the hair on her right side, brushed it aside just long enough to see what lay underneath. Dropping the mirror, she stared at her two mismatched hands.

“I hate this,” she said. “All the last two terms I’ve been dreading what would happen to me when I reached puberty, and now I can’t wait for it. I hate what it’ll make me, but at least I won’t be this freak.

Anneka took hold of both her hands. “There’s a thing my dad says that I didn’t really get till now. It’s ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think it means that whatever you do, whether good or bad, there are consequences, and no matter what you try to do, there’s a cost.”

“So, every bad deed gets punished as well?”

“Maybe, except bad deeds you do for yourself, so there’s usually a reward — for you at least — that outweighs the cost. Good deeds you do for other people, so you only really see the cost.”

“Sounds like a good enough reason to make you stop doing good things.”

“Unless you care more about other people than you do about yourself. I think it’s meant to be ironic though, that saying.”

“I don’t really get irony.”

“It’s kind of when you say one thing but mean the opposite, I think.”

“So good deeds aren’t punished?”

“Well, like I said, anything you do has its cost, it’s just that the benefit of doing good is hard to see sometimes, but when you find it, it’s worth more than anything you have to give to get it.”

“Like?”

“Like stopping whatever the Order of Purity were trying to do. If it was anything like what happened here, it would have been really nasty.”

“Except they wouldn’t have been able to do it if I hadn’t stolen the Bloodstone for them from the ministry.”

“Don’t you think they’d have found another way to get their hands on it without you? You may have taken the stone, but you also interrupted them using it and brought in all those aurors from the Ministry to get it back. I’d say that counts as stopping them.”

“I only did it to rescue my parents.”

“Which is also something you succeeded in doing. Lori, I love you, but there’s one thing about you that really frustrates me. You never let yourself see the amazing in you.”

Lori allowed herself a half-smile — on the left side, the one that still most resembled her. “By the way, where are my parents?”

“Oh, they went to lunch. They’re saving us a couple of seats.”

“Lunch! How long have I been asleep?”

“Well, given that you only went to bed in the early hours of the morning, no more than seven or eight hours. Your brother missed most of the morning too. He went to lunch with your parents about the time I got here. Come on, time to get up.”

“I can’t, Anni. I can’t let people see me like this.”

“Well, I don’t see how that’s going to work, because it’s the only way you’re going to get anything to eat today.”

“What?”

“Madame Pomfrey told me, what was it? ‘If she’s well enough to run out of here in the middle of the night, she’s well enough to go back to her normal school day.’ I’m pretty sure she plans to kick you out if you don’t go willingly. I brought you some clothes, but you’d better change quickly or there won’t be any food left.”

“Anni…”

“Nope.” She jumped off the bed and pulled the curtain across. “You have two minutes to get changed, then I’m dragging you out of here whether you’re decent or not, so get a move on.” With that she stepped out to give her friend some privacy.

Lori sighed. The underwear went on without a problem. Even the tights fit reasonably well despite one of her legs being an inch or two longer than the other. The skirt also helped there since she didn’t have to deal with having one trouser leg either too long or too short. The blouse was more problematic as her right arm was considerably too long, but she left the cuffs unbuttoned and rolled the sleeves back on either side as far as her elbows. For shoes, she had two pairs, one apparently from Raphael’s wardrobe and the other from hers. They were similar enough in style that wearing one of each didn’t look too out of place, and the larger heel on hers helped to even out the leg length to some degree.

She pulled the curtain back to be greeted by Anneka’s ever present smile.

“Here,” she said passing her a familiar cloak.

“Where…?”

Anneka passed him a note.

“Dearest Lori,

“This turned up in our search of the Maledicta Mansion. Professor McGonagall informs me that you are its rightful owner, so I’m returning it to you in the hope that, unlike my son, you will use it when you need to rather than when you want to.”

“That’s an odd thing to say,” Lori said, passing the note across.

“I think he’s telling you that you should only hide when you’re in danger, not just when you don’t want anyone to see you.” She dropped the note on a nearby bed and grabbed her friend’s hand, giving Lori no choice but to follow.

Despite the heel on her shoe, or maybe in part because of it, Lori found herself limping quite badly. She felt lumpy and hideously ugly, and the nearer they drew to the Great Hall, the more apprehensive she became. Anneka kept her moving to keep her distracted, but as they turned onto the staircase that led up to the entrance to the Great Hall, Lori dug her heels in.

“I can’t Anni,” she said.

“Yes, you can.” Anneka stopped in front of her friend and stared into her eyes. “Remember our first morning together? We share whatever happens, good or bad. Come on bestie, I’ve got your back.”

As before, Anneka’s mood won Lori over. Reluctant still and more resigned then willing, she hobbled up the last few steps and into the hall.

The place fell silent as every eye turned towards them. She felt panic grip her and would have run had Anneka not held tightly to her arm. Then one by one every person present stood to their feet.

It started with Gryffindor, with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw close behind. A few in Slytherin — Morgana Melrose among them — rose to their feet a little ahead of the professors, then, with some reluctance the rest of them followed suit.

It was difficult to say where the applause started. A few individuals from each house began it, but they were joined by their fellows building to a crescendo with the entire hall echoing with the sound of it.

It took a moment for Lori to realise this was for her, but as it sank in, her eyes welled up and streams of tears flooded her cheeks. How long it lasted, how long she stood there in the midst of it all, she couldn’t say, but eventually the sounds of appreciation dwindled away leaving her standing in silence.

She managed to bring her tears under control and gazed around the hall where everyone remained on their feet, looking at her expectantly. Professor McGonagall stepped forward.

“Good afternoon, Lori. I am so very pleased to see you back among us.” The elderly headmistress allowed herself one of her rare but genuine smiles. “As you no doubt can tell, the same goes for your schoolmates.”

Lori felt rooted to the spot, trapped under the gaze of so many attentive stares.

“Perhaps you’d like to join your parents up at the professor’s table?” McGonagall hinted.

Anneka gave Lori’s arm a tug and succeeded in getting her to move.

“How do they know?” Lori hissed. “I mean, it only happened last night.”

Anneka gave her friend a bemused look as they settled into the two seats offered them.

“This isn’t about last night,” she said. “Nobody’s seen you since your stunt in the forest, have they? That’s what this is for. Silly goose.”

“More like ugly duckling,” Lori’s father said, brushing her hair aside.

“That’s not very kind, Rolf,” Luna chided.

“Stage of the journey love. We should acknowledge it for what it is.”

Lori wasn’t ready to acknowledge any such thing and settled the curtain of hair back over the transformed part of her face.

“You’re not eating,” Anneka complained a minute later.

“Everybody’s looking at me.” Perhaps a slight exaggeration, though it wasn’t far off half of everybody.

“Get used to it.” Anneka started loading Lori’s plate. “You’re famous and the Saviour of Hogwarts is going to get a lot of attention.”

“I’m hideous is what I am,” Lori replied morosely, “and the Freak of Hogwarts doesn’t like people gawping at her.”

“Oh, for the love of Pete. Look, come with me.” Anneka grabbed her friend’s hand and dragged her away from the table. McGonagall looked up but held back on intervening. Most individuals in the crowded room turned back to their plates of food. Anneka made a beeline for the nearest who hadn’t. A small girl on the Hufflepuff table. “You know Allys, don’t you?” Anni asked her friend. “Allys Greenwood?”

“Er hi,” Allys said, blushing deeply. I guess I…” Tears washed her eyes. “I’m sorry for staring Lori, but I probably wouldn’t be alive if not for you. I’m Muggle born and I… Well, all I remember of this term is suddenly not being able to breathe on the train. Then I woke up a week ago with Madame Pomfrey telling me everything was going to be alright. I… Just thank you. It’s not enough, but…”

“Then there’s Gwendolyn Whisp.” Anneka pointed.

The last time Lori had seen her, she’d been gasping for breath, now she was equally dumbstruck, though the expression on her face spoke more eloquently than any words she might have spoken.

Anneka puled Lori across the Gryffindor table to a boy sitting in a group of third years. “This is Ainsley Miggins,” she announce.

He made a heroic swallow to clear his throat. “Half-blood,” he said. “Dad’s a wizard, Mum’s a midwife. I went to bed feeling unwell a few weeks ago. Woke up last week with the St Mungo’s Healer telling me I was lucky to be alive. I wish I had your guts Lori, but for now I’m just grateful to be alive. I wonder if you’d mind showing me and some of my friends how to cast a Patronus sometime.”

“Er, sure…”

But Anneka was already pulling her towards another Gryfindor, this one wearing a prefect’s badge. “Sheldon Landys,” Anneka announced.

Sheldon stood and offered Lori a hand. Self-conscious, because it meant putting forth her transformed right hand, Lori hesitated, but eventually took it.

“A pleasure and an honour,” he said with a winning smile. “Dad’s an auror. You kind of get used to the, er, the wear and tear shall we say? Mum’s a Muggle so it’s harder on her, but she understands why he does what he does. The mist got both me and my younger sister a few weeks ago. I hate to think how she’d have reacted if… Well, but we didn’t, thanks to you.”

Anneka moved on to the Ravenclaw table to a girl who was sitting apart from the rest of them. “Jeanine Lynch,” she said quietly.”

The girl looked up with red-rimmed eyes and tried to smile. “Marietta was my sister,” she said. “They told me when I woke up a week ago. I wish you could have done what you did just a little sooner.”

“I’m sorry,” Lori said.

Jeanine shook her head. “No. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m alive because of you. So many of us are. I couldn’t have done what you did. I just wish…” She broke into quiet sobs as Anneka led her away, this time towards the Slytherin table.

A slender witch with a long nose and sharp features stood as the approached. “I’m Elfina,” she said. “Do you mind?” She reached out a hand to the veil of hair covering the right side of Lori’s face. Lori stood still as she moved it to one side. Her expression remained unchanged as she took in what she found there, then she carefully let the hair back down. “There are some in Slytherin who aren’t that pleased about what you did, but I’m not one of them. I owe you. We owe you,” she indicated a small group of young witches and wizards behind her, all of whom nodded, “and we’re not about to forget it, okay?”

Lori nodded and let Anneka lead her back to her seat at the high table. “See what I mean?” she asked. “If they’re staring, it’s because of what you did, not what happened to you. Now stop being such an idiot and get some food in you. We’ve got potions and transfiguration this afternoon, so you’re going to need your strength.”

Lori’s appetite returned. Eating felt strange as the transformed side of her face stretched differently in response to her chewing, but she felt better. At the end of the meal, she kissed her mother and hugged her dad.

“We’ll be waiting when you’re done with your lessons,” Rolf said. “Come and find us in the guest wing, both of you,” he added, looking at Lysander. “Professor Longbottom has invited us all to dinner, so we’ll be heading to Diagon Alley.”

Lori looked at Anneka.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she laughed. “I’ll probably sick of your moaning by the end of the afternoon anyway. Besides, I have something I need to work on this evening.”

Lori’s limping gait slowed her enough to make her and Anneka a few minutes late for potions. Professor Mugglewump glowered at her but did little more than indicate a couple of free seats up near the front. He seemed somewhat subdued, nodding thoughtfully without passing comment at Lori’s attempt at making a forgetfulness potion.

Next came transfiguration, led by Professor McGonagall. She began the lesson by calling Lori to the front. Worried that she was going to be used as an example of what could go wrong, she approach apprehensively, but all the professor did was ask for her right shoe, which she then transfigured into a platform wedge, extending Lori’s shorter leg to match the other. She still limped back to her place but managed to move far more easily.

After an hour working on transforming a teapot into a toadstool, the lesson and the day finally reached its conclusion. Professor McGonagall asked Lori to stay back for a quiet word. Anneka inevitably remained too.

“I wanted to check how you were feeling at the end of your first afternoon back,” she said.

“Okay,” Lori responded. “I mean it was better than I thought it would be.” The whole afternoon, people she barely knew had approached her to thank her for what she’d done. None of them had seemed in the least bit phased by her appearance.

“That’s good. I also wanted to ask if you’ve finished with my spectacles yet.”

“Oh, I have those, professor,” Anneka interrupted.

“You do?” Lori asked.

“Yes. Remember, you said I could borrow them and Randolph’s journal when you’d finished with them. I kind of took them this morning while you were sleeping. Can I get them back to you tomorrow professor?”

“Next transfiguration class will be soon enough Miss Peasbottom, but please don’t forget.”

“I won’t, professor. Thank you.”

“Is that what you ‘need’ to do this evening?” Lori asked as they headed back to their dormitory.

“Mm hmm. I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

“I’ve been looking forward to getting my teeth into that journal all day.”

“Did you find my list?”

“Yes. I think that’ll help a lot.”

“Do you think so? Because I didn’t think I found all that much in there.”

“Well, let me give it a go and we’ll talk about it this evening. You know, two heads are better than one kind of thing.”

“Said the hydra to himself.”

They both broke down into giggles, surprising Lori who hadn’t thought she would ever laugh again.

-oOo-

The visit to the Longbottoms’ turned out far better than any of them had anticipated. Neville walked with the Scamanders to Merlin’s Gate where the group of them disapparated, reappearing outside the Leaky Cauldron at the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Hannah Longbottom, formerly Hannah Abbot during the time Luna had known her at Hogwarts, had closed the pub for the evening, much to the dismay of many of her regular customers, and had put together a veritable feast for them all. She invited Luna to help her set the table and struck up a conversation about their time at Hogwarts that had Lori’s mum laughing and reminiscing as though the two of them had been fast friends back in the day.

Rolf and Neville, meanwhile, set to talking about their own various interests. Neville’s deep fascination with all things floral matched neatly with Rolf’s love of fauna, and before long they were deep in discussion.

Lysander took Lori’s hand and led her towards the exit. “Mum, Dad? We’re just going for a walk,” he said.”

“Alright love,” Luna looked up briefly. “We’ll be eating in, what…?”

“Half an hour,” Hannah supplied.

“Half an hour, so be back by then.”

“Don’t go far,” Rolf called, “and certainly not anywhere near Knockturn Alley. I think we’ve all had quite enough adventures for the moment.”

“Okay,” the twins chorused and walked out to the back wall behind the pub. Lysander tapped out the sequence with his wand and the two slipped through to the quiet of the wizarding world’s most famous shopping precinct.

Lysander kept his pace slow, adapting to Lori’s limping stride.

“You can say it you know? ‘I told you so.’”

“No.” Lysander was emphatic. “Of all the things I was worried might happen to you, I could never have imagined this in a million years.

“I kind of feel responsible. I mean that charm…”

“Would have done me no harm at all if I hadn’t messed myself up with that Patronus maximus spell, and if Raph’s mum hadn’t tried to dispel it.”

“Still…”

“Lye, without your charm I’d never have found where Mum and Dad were being held. They’d probably have ended up feeding a bunch of Dementors before anyone got to them.”

“Don’t.”

“Well, it didn’t happen, did it? And it’s partly thanks to you. Anneka’s right. If this is the price for making them safe, then it’s worth it.”

“It shouldn’t be you who pays for it though. It’s not fair.”

“Hey, it’s not over yet. What Dad said at lunch. Ugly duckling for now, but I’ll get to be a beautiful swan before this is all over.” Lori smiled and it was genuine. Anneka was right about so many things. The people who mattered most in her life, who loved her most, still loved her. So what if she looked like something from a horror story.

“You’re taking it really well.”

“Well, it does mean you’re not going to have to deal with any more snide comments about having an identical twin sister, doesn’t it?”

Lysander laughed. “You are amazing, you know that?”

“Well, Anneka has mentioned it once or twice, and she’s been right about a lot of other stuff, so I guess I do.

“Hey, what do you think? Have I got a better chance than normal becoming an auror looking like this?”

“What made you think of that?”

“Something someone in Gryffindor said to me earlier today. Don’t worry, I don’t particularly want to be an auror. Knowing my luck, I’d end up standing guard outside the room of some reckless kid who got herself in too much trouble.”

“What do you want to be? I mean, you know, I told you what I want.”

“You did, Professor Scamander. For me… I don’t know. It hasn’t been all that long ago I found out what being me actually meant. I’m not copping out; I just really don’t know.”

“Well, you’ve tons of time yet.” They stood in front of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, staring at the display. “You’d do well in here. I mean walking advertisement for Disfigurement Doughnuts or what?”

Lori punched him with her right arm.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, I forget I’m a bit stronger on that side.”

“You know I didn’t mean it?”

“I always know, Lye. I’m lucky to have a brother like you.”

“Just like I’m lucky to have a sister like you. Do you think it’s been half an hour yet?”

“Am I boring you?”

“No, just not that great with all the lovey dovey girly stuff.”

Lori hugged him and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek by way of retaliation. They turned back towards the Leaky Cauldron and dinner.

-oOo-

Anneka was sitting up in bed waiting when Lori stepped through the door around eleven o’clock.

“No Hortensia?” Lori asked.

“Date with Morgana as usual,” came the sleepy reply.

“What did you find out?”

“Hmm? Oh, the journal?”

“Of course the journal! Come on spill.”

“Well, it’s like you said, it doesn’t look like it’s all here, but he seems to have left clues.”

“That bit at the end? I thought so too. That bit about not having enough spine. I don’t really get what he was saying, but he was suggesting the knowledge was there for someone with enough courage.”

“Is that what you think? I suppose it could mean something like that.”

“You don’t think so though?”

“I’m not sure. Let me think about it for a day or two.”

“What did you make of that bit about what can’t be said might be sung?”

“There’s a lot of nonsense nursery rhymes date back to that time. I wondered if she might have hidden the clues in something she sung to her children. Now I have some names, dates and a location, I thought I might try my friend from the library. You remember I wrote to you about him?”

“Was that the genealogy guy.”

“Yeah. With a few extra details he might be able to find something “

“You seem a bit distracted.”

“I’m just tired is all. How was your evening?”

So, Lori regaled her with the stories the Longbottom’s and her parents had shared until Hortensia finally made it back to their room about midnight. An awkward silence followed in which their roommate avoided looking at them. She changed and slipped into bed then, by unspoken agreement, they all doused their lamps and settled down to sleep.

Chapter 16 – The new normal by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	Apologies for the delay, but I ended up rewriting a lot of this. It’s about 5000 words longer than the original, but I think it works better.

-oOo-
Hortensia was gone when they woke the next morning. She wasn’t usually an early riser so her absence gave Lori and Anneka some cause for concern. She wasn’t in the Great Hall at Breakfast either which worried them more.

The Slytherin table seemed low on numbers — another oddity after the weeks in which it had been the only table not to be missing a significant number of its occupants. Those that remained turned hate-filled glares in Lori’s direction as she passed.

“What do you think that’s about?” She murmured to Anneka.

Ani shrugged and found a seat facing away from them. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,” she responded. “In the meantime, we don’t need to look at them.”

Lori sat beside her friend, but the continued glowering from behind her made her feel uncomfortable, so she rushed through breakfast and stood to leave as soon as she could. Anneka took a couple more quick mouthfuls of porridge and followed.

A group of Slytherins stood up and blocked their path. She recognised Efina from the previous day as well as a few of her friends. This time they looked less appreciative.

“Excuse me,” Lori said, “I need to get ready for class.”

Elfina stepped close, scowling into Lori’s face from close up — and winked.

It was the briefest movement — barely a twitch — but it was accompanied by the thin witch holding up a small envelope in the enclosed space between them. Lori took it and Elfina stepped back.

“Watch your back,” she hissed, making it sound more like a threat than a warning.

Lori and Anneka rushed back to the safety of their dorm where Lori opened the envelope.

“What are you doing?” Anneka tried to stop her, but she was too late.

The envelope rose up close to Lori’s ear and spoke in a whisper.

“Sorry about the act.” The paper spoke quietly with Elfina’s voice. “Quite a few of our housemates were taken out of school yesterday evening, in a lot of cases by Ministry officials. We’ve heard some of their parents were arrested and the rumour’s going around that you were involved. Really watch your back today,” this time the tone was concerned rather than aggressive, “I’ve heard a number of my housemates muttering about payback.”

The envelope drifted over to a wastebasket and quietly tore itself to shreds.

“Sorry,” Anneka said. “I thought it might be a howler or something worse.”

A spectral cat walked through the wall and jumped up on Lori’s bed. “Please come to my office,” it said in McGonagall’s voice.

Anneka’s eyes widened. “I’ve never heard of a Patronus being used to summon a student before,” she said. “You’d better go.”

Lori stood up, grabbing her book bag. “I suppose. You be careful as well. They might try to get at me through you.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Do you think this is one of those ‘no good deed goes unpunished’ situations?”

Anni managed a weak smile. “I think this might be a good time to use your cloak.”

-oOo-

Anneka had been right. The corridors were dotted with small groups of Slytherin students lounging about looking not the least bit innocent. Lori made her way past them without too much difficulty, though her mismatched legs made it hard to keep quiet. Even so, she reached the headmistress’s office without incident. She reversed her cloak and raised a hand to knock.

“Come!” the command came before she could complete the gesture. She opened the door and stepped in.

McGonagall stood at the window looking out at the comings and goings in the school. She had visitors — two men conversing quietly by the portraits of previous heads. One in green robes she didn’t recognise. The other…”

“Uncle Harry?”

McGonagall turned. “You left before announcements this morning Lori. I’d appreciate it if you’d wait around for them in future, especially since you seem to feature in so many of them.”

“I’m sorry professor.”

“This is Marcus Pawsey from St Mungo’s. He specialises in inadvertent magical seepage and will be working with you this morning with your current condition. Before he does so, your uncle would like to talk to you about last night in more detail.

“Gentlemen, my office is yours. I have a class to teach.” With that, she walked out.

“This won’t take long,” Harry said, talking as much to the healer as to Lori. He led his niece over to a leather sofa and sat her down before working through a list of questions relating to her recent adventure. All the while they were talking, a quill scratched away on a piece of parchment paper beside them. Lori eyed it nervously.

Harry noticed and smiled. At a gesture, the quill stopped writing. “Hermione gave it to me for Christmas this year. She knows how much I hate writing reports and she got the idea from Rita Skeeter’s Quick Quotes Quill. This one’s different in that it writes exactly what you say.”

He waved again and the interview continued. True to his word, the interview lasted no more than fifteen minutes, after which Harry stood and collected his quill and parchment.

“Uncle Harry?”

“Yes, Lori.”

“The people you arrested the other night? How many of them were parents of students here?”

“Quite a few, it turns out. You noticed some empty seats this morning?”

“Mainly Slytherins, yes, but I was wondering if I could have a look at the list.”

“I’m sorry Lori, that’s Ministry business…”

“Was there anyone named Skunk on the list?”

“Why do you ask?”

“One of my friends. Hortensia Skunk.”

“I probably shouldn’t say, but yes, there was a Grayson Skunk on the list.”

“Just one person with that name?”

“Your friend is with her mother right now.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Lori, it’s not your fault that your friend’s father was arrested. It was his choice to join the Order and become a part of this conspiracy.”

Lori smiled weakly.

“Okay. I’ll leave you in Marcus’s capable hands. Marcus.” With a nod to the other man, Harry left.

“So what do you think?” Lori asked. “Might you be able to do anything about this?” She indicated her face.

Marcus had been healer for long enough to have seen far worse. He had a practised easy smile. “Probably not immediately, but maybe in time. We have more urgent concerns for today.”

“Oh?” Lori felt a shiver of disquiet run down her spine.

“Imagine a dam, Lori. An enormous wall holding back immense quantities of water…”

“I know what a dam is.”

“Of course you do. Now, imagine a crack forming in the side of the dam so that a slow trickle of water starts coming through. What do you think might happen if it’s left alone?”

“It’ll get worse?”

“Yes, but not just that. With a dam, a small leak can seem almost harmless right up to the point where the whole structure collapses very suddenly.”

“That doesn’t sound very good.”

“It isn’t. Lori, do you know what an obscurus is?”

“No.” It didn’t sound very good either.

“It happens rarely — far more rarely these days in our more open-minded world — but occasionally a child with magical abilities will be forced to suppress his or her magic. It’s not something that can be sustained. In time the build-up of unreleased magic inside reaches a point where it bursts out in the form of an obscurus — an immense shadowy cloud with unimaginable power and utterly no control. An obscurus is one of the most powerfully destructive forces known in the wizarding world.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“An obscurus comes about as the result of the unfettered release of magical power. The circumstances are different in your case, Lori, but the weakening of the inner walls holding your magic in check could result in a collapse with very little provocation. The release isn’t likely to be as powerful as with an obscurus, but it will be just as wildly chaotic. It could cause a lot of harm, so the most important thing we need to do today is to stop that from happening.”

“How?”

“Well, ultimately we’ll need to repair the fracturing that the Patronus Maximus spell caused in you, but that’ll take time. In order to give us that time we need to find a way of allowing that trickle of magic of yours a safe release so that it won’t cause any more damage.”

“I was hoping we could plug it so we could stop what’s keeping me like this.”

“And we will try to do that in time. If we attempt it now before we’ve strengthened your barriers, it could cause enough of a build-up of magic to cause them to break down.

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with this partial transformation for now. In time — and to be realistic we’re talking years here — you should be able to strengthen your walls enough that we can look at capping the trickle, but we’ve a long way to go before we get there.

“First things first. This morning I’ll ask you to cast some very minor spells like Lumos. It’ll enable me to see the extent of the fracturing and poke a few holes through the weaker parts.”

“Won’t that make them weaker?”

“It does sound a little backwards, but the magic is currently forcing its way through cracks and causing them to grow. The holes let it flow more easily so the damage doesn’t increase.

“I’m not going to lie, what I have to do today will be unpleasant, but our future sessions won’t be anywhere near so gruelling.”

Under the healer’s direction, Lori removed her blouse and camisole. Despite there being nothing to show, she felt uncomfortably vulnerable with her torso exposed. For the rest of the morning, she cast various spells as directed while Marcus examined her through various instruments and made sheets of notes. Every now and again he’d pause and warn her of a little impending discomfort before pushing the tip of his wand slowly into her chest.

It didn’t hurt, but it felt extremely unpleasant, a bit like poking at the skin on rice pudding until it gave, except that she was the rice pudding. She could feel the wand moving around inside her until he withdrew it leaving her skin unblemished and the trickle of magic inside her flowing more easily. Eventually, after several hours he stepped back and smiled.

“I think that should do for today,” he said, much to Lori’s relief. “You’ve been extremely brave and I’m pleased to say that the worst is over. However, I’m afraid you’re not going to like what I’m going to say next.

“Lori, I need you to give me your wand.”

“What? Why?”

“It is absolutely imperative that you not cast any magic right now. It’s extremely dangerous for you in your present condition.”

“But I’ve cast quite a few spells recently. Professor McGonagall said it was alright as long as I didn’t cast them on myself.”

“Professor McGonagall doesn’t have my expertise in these matters. As for your casting spells, your uncle told me about the Patronus you produced a couple of days ago. I’m sure everyone’s told you how impressive that is, but what’s more of a wonder is that it didn’t cause a full rupture.”

“I didn’t feel any different to normal.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to. Remember the dam? Everything seems almost normal right up to the moment when it bursts.

“The stomata I’ve put in you today will stop things getting worse and they’ll prevent any build-up of magical power, but you can’t risk putting any strain on it.

“I’ll be back in a day or two when we’ll start on the long journey of repairing the damage, but until I say, no more magic.”

Very reluctantly Lori offered up her wand. She hadn’t been without it since her parent’s had bought it from Olivander’s before school had started. It left her feeling far more naked than her lack of blouse. Reflexively, she reached for them and dressed quickly.

“What about my invisibility cloak?” She asked as she picked it up.

The healer held out a hand and examined it closely.

“No problem,” he smiled handing it back. “This has its own magic so won’t draw on yours.

“Now, unless things have changed dramatically since my days here, I believe it’s about lunchtime.”

They headed for the Great Hall where Marcus joined the professors. He handed Lori’s wand to Professor McGonagall and spoke briefly into her ear. Lori found Anneka and slumped down next to her.

“That bad?”

“Worse. I’m not allowed to use magic. He took my wand.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know. We have another session later in the week. Maybe I’ll learn more then.”

“Well, you shouldn’t need it this afternoon; we have potions then history of magic.”

“Oh joy. My two favourite lessons.”

-oOo-

Potions was both better and worse than usual. Lori found her mismatched limbs a mixed blessing. Raphael’s greater strength in her right arm made crushing ingredients easier, but it felt awkward leaving her with the choice of doing the finesse tasks like stirring either with her non-dominant left hand or her clumsy right. She had to rely on Anneka to provide the small amount of magic needed, and by the end of the lesson the contents of her cauldron, whilst not being an unmitigated disaster, were decidedly not right.

Oddly, Professor Mugglewump offered up none of his usual scathing criticisms but instead nodded in a subdued manner. “Not quite, Lori,” he said. “Close though. A passable effort.”

“What was that?” she asked Anneka as they made their way to Professor Binns’ classroom, but her friend had no answer and just shook her head.

History of magic was no more stimulating than usual. Even reading the relevant chapter as the ghostly professor droned on didn’t seem to help and by the end Lori was in as much of a daze as her classmates.

“Scamander, a word if you please.”

Lori glanced across at Anneka who shrugged. In all their past experience, Binns had ended each of his lectures by drifting off through the wall. Lori walked up to the front of the class.

“Hmm, yes. Special research project for you,” the professor said. “Headmaster’s instructions. Something right up your alley — you are still interested in those magical creatures of yours aren’t you, Newton?”

“Lori sir. Yes sir.”

“See what you can find out about the history of house elves. Spend some time in the kitchens and talk to a few. Facts only though, Newton. No flights of fancy, eh?”

“Yes sir, and it’s Lori sir.”

“Alright, you can go now. Spend a few weeks on it, find out as much as you can.” Binns was halfway through the wall before he’d finished talking.

“So? What was that about do you think?” Anni asked.

“Extra homework. Something that doesn’t need me to use magic. It’s fine, I was planning on heading to the kitchens after dinner anyway. I have a promise to keep. You can come too if you want.”

“Sorry, I’ve an appointment with Mugglewump this evening.”

“How come? I thought you did okay in potions — certainly better than me and he didn’t have anything nasty to say about my efforts.”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s… it’s something else.”

They stopped at the dorm long enough to change. This was something Lori had looked forward to, but since her disfigurement she found no pleasure in her clothes. Some inherent magic caused them to adjust to her altered frame, but nothing could hide the freak that looked back from the mirror.

Dinner was wonderful as usual, but ordinary for all that. Lori prodded at the contents of her plate and mused about how it was possible to get used to pretty much anything whether good or bad. She didn’t want to get used to the way she was now though. She wanted to fix it — not that she could do much to help that along right now.

Anneka finished her plate, then rushed through a desert before jumping to her feet.

“I’ll see you later,” she said and headed out.

Lori shook her head, wondering what there was about an evening with Mugglewump that could have her friend so eager to go. She poked at her food for a while longer, but her mood had robbed her of her appetite. Eventually she pushed the plate away and stood up herself. Time to head for the kitchens.

-oOo-

“Master?” a quavering voice enquired. “Young master?”

She’d raised her head to find Cringe standing nearby. He looked cleaner in the Hogwarts house elf livery made from a school tea towel, but otherwise he seemed just as miserable.

“No, I’m sorry,” she replied. “I made myself look like him for a while and something went wrong with the spell, so I’m stuck like this. I said some mean things to you before, Cringe, and I'm sorry.”

“You tricked Cringe,” the house elves voice turned querulous. “You tricked Cringe into taking you to the prisoners and now master is angry with Cringe.”

“They were my parents, and their lives were in danger. I’m sorry I tricked you, but what your master made you do trapping them like that was wrong.”

“Cringe doesn’t care. Cringe doesn’t like you. Cringe doesn’t want to talk to you.” With that he scuttled away.

“Mistress must forgive Cringe” The voice came from a shelf above Lori’s head where a smaller than usual house elf lolled with a half-consumed bottle of butter beer held loosely in one hand. Unlike the other house elves, she wore a red dress that might once have belonged to a porcelain doll. Once pretty, it was now torn, stained and distinctly grubby.

Hello,” Lori said brightly. Here was a chance of a little research.

“Cringe is not long at Hogwarts,” the house elf continued, ignoring the greeting. “He is very sad because he is losing his job with his family. It is hard for house elves to lose their families, Winky knows this very well.”

“Is that your name then? Winky? I like your dress.”

The house elf burst into tears. “Mistress is very kind,” she sobbed, “but for Winky to wear clothes is a disgrace. Winky does not wish to wear clothes, but she is a free elf, so she must.”

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to be free. I mean, I know conditions here at Hogwarts are pretty good, but why would you choose to serve someone who is unkind to you?”

“My master is not being unkind!” Winky snapped. “My master is being the best master a house elf could wish for!”

“I didn’t mean you, Winky. I don’t know anything about your situation. I was thinking of Cringe. He worked for a very cruel family and I can’t think why he would want to keep doing so.

“They kidnapped my parents, you know, and left them chained on the top of a hill where they were going to feed them to Dementors. They were trying to conjure a mist that would have killed every non-pure-blood wizard in the world! That’s billions of people!”

“What humans is doing to each other is their business. A house elf’s duty is to serve his or her master.”

“That makes no sense. House elves know right from wrong, so you must know when your masters are evil.”

“House elves is being magically bound. House elves is having to obey their masters no matter what.”

“But that makes no sense either. If you’re being forced to do something you know is wrong and are then given a chance to be free, why wouldn’t you take it?”

“Mistress wouldn’t understand.” Winky took a long drink from her bottle. Nearby house elves variously directed looks of pity and disgust in her direction before turning back to their work.

“I’d like to try,” Lori said earnestly.

“Winky can’t say,” came the slurred reply. “Issa secret. All house elves is promising never to speak of it.”

“Oh.” For a moment Lori had felt she was getting somewhere, but she knew better than to try and force a house elf to act against a promise it had made. “Well, thank you for talking to me anyway, and please tell Cringe I’m sorry.” She turned, looking for the part of the vast kitchen where the meat was prepared.

“Winky is promising never to speak, but she isn’t promising not to show.”

Lori turned back to find herself almost eye to bloodshot eye with the tiny creature. A long bony finger reached out and touched her on the nose

The kitchen vanished and Lori found herself standing outside in an open field of long yellowed grass with the occasional shrub or tree. A range of mountains faded to blue almost encircled her. A circle of rough hewn stones stood nearby and everywhere the place was filled with house elves. They were different though. All of them wore some sort of tunic or dress, intricately embroidered and richly coloured. The eyes and ears were just as large, but here they were filled with a grim intensity of purpose.

In the centre of the circle of stones, on a raised platform stood a group of about a dozen elderly elves. One particularly wizened individual stood just ahead of the rest and lifted his arms.

“We is agreed,” he said, his mouth moving out of sync with the words. “Humans is becoming too dangerous and we is having to do something about it. They is not all having magic and it is not strong magic, but they is crafty and is already finding ways to make it stronger. They is also quarrelsome and the more they is making their magic strong, the more they is looking to fight.

“If we is leaving them, they is becoming more powerful which is not being good for all magical beings. We is not liking it, but we is having to fight!”

However little the leaders liked it, the crowd roared out their approval. Everywhere Lori looked she saw anger and determination in the expressions about her, far different from those of the house elves she knew.

The scene faded and changed into one of a vast battlefield. Hundreds of witches and wizards were retreating before an army of thousands of elves. The wizards fought valiantly, firing off spells at two or three times the rate of the elves around them, but they were being overrun by sheer weight of numbers. Elves would pop into existence in the midst of the retreating throng. Many would die before they could do anything else, but most would fire off one spell or another, burning, freezing, petrifying, bringing all manner of attacks before attempting to vanish as they had come. More elves were dying than humans, but still the human numbers dwindled and still the elves pressed their attack. Lori was horrified to experience death on such a scale and wished she could have been anywhere else.

Mercifully, the scene faded again, returning them to the stone circle on a different day. Many of the elves present bore wounds and other signs of battle, and their numbers were reduced by a half. The same dozen elders stood within the stone circle, the same eldest among them stood apart with his arms raised. This time a second group of elves stood behind him, younger, black robed.

Silence descended on the scene as the elder elf’s raised arms bid them listen. He waited until it was absolute.

“The war with humans is costing many lives,” he said, again his mouth forming different words than those spoken. He looked around at the depleted numbers surrounding him. “But it is nearly won. For every ten humans who is beginning this fight, there is only one who remains!”

The crowd of elves cheered, a great roaring sound of vindication for their immense loss. But the elder elf’s hands remained raised, his face grim.

“It is making what I is asking now much harder.”

Silence fell even more profound than before.

“We is being visited by the Seer of Everwinter,” the elder continued, “and she is having dreams of the future. She is dreaming what is happening if we defeats the humans.

“She is saying that for many years we is having peace, but there is coming a day when all the world is burning, and all life is turning to ash.”

“How is this happening?” The cry came from somewhere in the crowd.

“The humans is crafty. They is finding ways to destroy without magic. And they is quarrelsome enough to destroy themselves and all other things as well.”

“How is we stopping this?” It was a different voice but it asked the question they all wanted answered.

“The Seer of Everwinter is dreaming other dreams. If we is allowing the humans to win this war, they is becoming too powerful and they is enslaving all the magical world.

“She is dreaming many dreams and they is all ending bad. All except one.”

“What is this dream?” yet a third voice called out from the crowd.

“We is surrendering to the humans. We is saying to them we is losing to many lives and we is wanting peace. We is telling them to bind us with magic so we is being their servants.”

“How is this making things better?”

“This is being a good question, but we is not knowing the answer. All we is knowing is this is the only dream the seer is having that is not ending in either the enslavement of all or the ending of all life.

“We is thinking if they is binding us as servants, maybe they is not needing to make slaves of all things. Or if we is close to them and showing them how we is living, maybe they is learning to be better. But we is not knowing.”

“How long is we being their servants?”

“Maybe until we is understanding. Maybe until they is freeing us. Maybe both of these things.”

The questions continued, but the sound and scene faded. Lori found herself lying on the kitchen floor looking up into the concerned faces of several house elves. Winky lay passed out on her shelf, the empty butter beer bottle still grasped in her hand.

“Is mistress alright?”The largest of her onlookers asked. He seemed be the one in authority.

“I think so. What was that?”

“It is… history. It is not good for Winky to show you this, but she is not happy. Not since Master Crouch is sending her away. She is doing her best, but he is not understanding. She is feeling this is unfair.”

“It is unfair though. You shouldn’t have to be servants to people who don’t appreciate you.”

“This is what it means to be a house elf, mistress. We is happy to make the sacrifice because we is knowing what is being saved by it. It is a good thing to give what you have to be making things better for everyone. But it is a hard thing also, and hardest of all when you is doing what is good and you is being made to suffer for it.

“We is asking that you is not telling this to anyone. We is offering to give you a wish if you is agreeing.”

“I don’t suppose you could undo this could you?” Lori indicated her deformities.

“We is sorry, mistress. Elf magic is not like human magic. We is thinking we is making things worse if we try.”

“That’s alright. It was worth asking though. I think I understand why you don’t want people to know the truth. I have to write something though. What would you want me to write?”

“Mistress has to wish. It is binding the promise.”

“Is that what you did when you agreed to become our servants? Did you bind us so we couldn’t do the horrible things you were afraid we’d do?”

“We doesn’t know. It is possible, but we doesn’t understand why what we is doing is working.”

“Alright.” Lori thought carefully. She didn’t really want anything for herself other than to be made right. Since that wasn’t possible, she found her thoughts drifting to the misery she’d felt in both Winky and Cringe. She had an idea which seemed appropriate to the situation. “My wish is that you do whatever you can to make Cringe and Winky feel better about themselves and about being here. I know it’s not what they would choose, but this seems like a good place for a house elf to be.”

The house elves nodded. Their leader spoke once more as he held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Mistress is wise and kind. We is encouraged when we is finding humans like this. We is doing as you wish.

“If you is writing about house elves, you is saying what is being said in your vision, that we is surrendering because we is not wanting any more elves to die. We is binding ourselves to their service so we is not able to be fighting them still. It is truth, but not all truth.”

Lori thanked them. “I wonder if I could have some scraps of raw meat,” she said. “I owe a great deal to one of the thestrals in the forest.”

“Of course, mistress,” the head house elf said and went to fetch a bowl full, not of scraps but fine slices of tenderloin.

“Thank you. Won’t you get in trouble for giving me this though?”

“It is no trouble, mistress. We is in service to all here at Hogwarts. We is bound to be giving whatever is being asked for.”

“Is there a reason why Winky won’t wear the same things you’re all wearing? I mean I know she said something about being a free elf, but I didn’t understand.”

“A house elf is freed by being given clothes. This is what is happening to Winky and afterwards she is being bound to wear clothes to show she is a free elf.”

“Perhaps I could have one or two of your spare tea towels then.” Lori wasn’t sure if it would do any good, but she had an idea that she hoped might help. “Would you mind leaving them on my bed with my laundry?”

A few minutes later, she limped out of the kitchen with an odd sense of bemusement. The house elves had been utterly accommodating and she realised how easy it might be to take advantage of them. She resolved never to do so as she made her way towards the Forbidden Forest.

She’d been worrying about whether or not she’d be able to recognise her mount. Apart from size, the thestrals all seemed pretty much identical. It didn’t turn out to be a problem though. As she entered the clearing, one of the beasts tossed its head and trotted over to her.

“It is you , isn’t it?” She asked, stroking the top of its nose. It didn’t have the same felt-like feeling of the unicorns, but had more of a hard, scale-like quality . “I’m surprised you recognise me looking like this. I’m sorry I left you the other night, but things went a little bit out of control.”

She offered a piece of steak which the thestral downed with considerable relish. When she offered a second, it shook its head and indicated the rest of the herd, so Lori handed out what she had, surprised to find there was just enough for every creature to take a piece.

She turned back to her former mount. “I owe you so much,” she told it. “Without your efforts, I don’t know what would have happened to my parents. I’ll see you again, but for now I have some homework I need to be getting on with.”

The thestral bowed its head and turned made its way back into the throng. Lori tried to follow it, but before long she wasn’t sure she knew which was which. Homework awaited, so she turned back towards the castle.

She was nearing the edge of the forest when she heard a twig snap in the undergrowth. Her vision had adapted to the dark enough that she could make out the path from the trees, but beyond that she couldn’t see a great deal. She longed for her wand and the comfort of a simple lumos spell.

“Who’s there?” She called out.

A rustle of leaves and she could make out a shadowy, cloaked figure in front of her. More noise from around her and she was surrounded.

“Lumos.” The spell wasn’t quite as comforting as she’d thought it would be. By the newly formed light she found herself surrounded by perhaps a dozen figures, each wearing a green trimmed cloak. The shape in front of her was larger than the rest.

“Goyle?” It wasn’t hard to guess. There weren’t many students his size.

“It’s your fault,” he snarled.

“What?” It wasn’t much of a comeback, but she could feel the fear numbing her mind, weakening her knees.

“All our friends being taken out of school, their parents arrested.” This from a heavy-set witch to her right. It was her wand that currently lit up the path.

“You’re a freak, Scamander,” a young wizard with a long nose said from her left. “You have been since the moment you arrived, and never more so than now.”

“We’re going to make you wish you’d never been born.” Lori spun to face the fourth voice. It belonged to a handsome boy with bleach blond hair.

Lori recognised the faces, but apart from Goyle she couldn’t think of a single other name.

“Wands at the ready,” Goyle said.

Lori spun around, looking for an escape route, but they were too close to one another; she’d never make it through. She rounded on Goyle who was sneering at her.

“This is going to be so much fun,” he said.

Lori did the only thing she could think to do. She reversed her cloak and dropped to the ground underneath it.

“Oh no you don’t!” Goyle yelled. “Stupify!”

Jinxes and curses flew over Lori’s head, fizzing through the air. It lasted a few seconds then all was silence, apart from the odd whimper. She raised her head, still hidden under the cloak, and looked around her.

Most of her assailants lay sprawled around her. Several stood or sat moaning, sporting various magical disfigurements. Goyle bent over vomiting slugs. The heavy-set witch’s face was covered in suppurating boils.

Lori rearranged her cloak, pulling the hood over her face so she could see without being seen, and made her way as swiftly and silently as she could out of the circle and down the path, thanking whatever source of fortune had persuaded Goyle to surround himself with a gang of individuals as hard of thinking as he was.

“What’s going on ‘ere?” A voice sounded from ahead.

With a sob of relief, Lori ran towards it, throwing her arms around one of Hagrid’s enormous legs.

“Wha’?”

Lori pulled off her cloak.

“Lori? Wha’ yer doing out here? Wha’ was all tha’ noise?”

“I was visiting the thestrals,” she said. “I kind of got scared in the dark.”

“But I thought… Didn’t I hear the sounds of magic just now?”

“I’m not allowed to cast magic at the moment,” Lori said. “See? No wand.”

“Well, best you get back to th’ castle,” Hagrid said. “There’s things about in th’ forest you wouldn’t want to meet without having a wand handy.”

“You don’t have a wand.”

“Yeah, well, it’s different for me. They all know me in here. Come on, let’s get you back inside.”

“How are the fire crabs?”

“You heard about tha’, did you? They’re fine now. Maybe a bit yellower ‘n normal, and one of ‘em has this crest of yellow feathers I don’t think it’ll ever lose, but I reckon they’ll do alright.”

Lori wasn’t sure what had kept her from telling about her attackers. It wasn’t as if her reputation could get any worse, but maybe that was it. Maybe if it became known that she’d defeated a dozen Slytherins without her wand, it would make folks more wary of her. Her next encounter was likely to be with someone more competent, so any edge would help.

-oOo-

The dormitory was empty and she didn’t care for how vulnerable she felt. The tea towels she’d asked for lay on her bed and looked a good size for what she had planned. She dumped her book bag and headed back out into the common room where Professor Sprout sat by the fire with her needles clacking away beside her as usual.

“Professor Sprout?”

“Good evening dear. Not often we see you out here with the common folk.” As ever, her wrinkly smile blunted any barbs hidden in her words.

“ I was wondering…”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if you could teach me to sew.” She held up the tea towels and explained her idea.

As with potions, Lori found her right hand to be oversized and clumsy, but under Professor Sprouts patient tutelage, she found a technique that worked. The project she’d set herself wasn’t that hard, and she’d just about finished when she spotted Anneka coming in through the entrance. She finished off the hem she’d been sewing and held it up for the professor to examine.

“Good enough,” she nodded. “Not as good as it could be with a little more practice, but definitely fit for purpose. Would you like me to finish it off for you?”

Lori smiled her thanks and handed the piece of work across before following her friend into their dorm.

“So,” she said to Anneka’s back, “how was extra potions with Professor Mugglewump?”

“Surprisingly not awful actually.” Anneka glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “How was your evening?”

“Surprisingly educational. Do you want to talk about yours?”

“Not really.” Anneka collapsed back on her bed. “I’m kind of tired. Tell me about yours.”

So Lori described her experience with Winky, leaving out the parts the house elves had made her promise not to tell. She felt like she could if she wanted to, but she didn’t feel it would be right to break her word so soon after giving it, even with her best friend. She wondered if that in itself might be a part of the house elf magic, that it changed your desires subtly so that you wanted to do what was agreed rather than being blocked from not doing it.

They discussed the vision Winky had shared and where the house elves might have gathered. From Lori’s memory, there didn’t seem to be that much to go on, so she resolved to ask when she was next in the kitchens. After about half an hour, Anni yawned widely and stretched, then smiled apologetically.

“It is getting late,” Lori said and started changing for bed. “Maybe we should get our heads down. Have you heard anything more about Hortensia?”

“Nope, nothing.”

“I feel dreadful about that, you know? I mean, it’s kind of because of me that her dad was arrested. You know, I know it was her dad’s choice to join the Order, but even so…”

“And because of you there’s a world full of Muggles, Squibs, Muggle-borns and half-bloods like me who don’t have to be scared any time it’s a bit misty outside. I think on the whole you’re doing okay.”

“I suppose you’re right.” They doused their lamps and settled for the night.

-oOo-

The Slytherin table was even more sparsely populated the following morning. Lori was still on the receiving end of hostile stares form those who remained, though in many cases they were held in check by hints of begrudging respect. Even so, in light of her encounter the previous night Lori decided she should try not to be alone.

That was easier said than done though. The morning’s classes were due to be charms followed by transfiguration, neither of which she was required to attend as they would involve practising spells. Instead she headed off to the library to research house elves in greater detail.

In one of the books she found a number of beautifully painted images, including one that showed the meeting place Lori recognised from her vision, the grass swaying gently in the foreground. The caption below it read, “Meeting place of the elven tribes, Southern Georgia, near the border with Azerbaijan.”

She approached Madame Pince, who’s permanent scowl of disapproval softened slightly in her presence. She held up the image.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Lori started. “I’m not allowed to use magic at present and I was wondering if it would be possible somehow to make a copy of this picture. It’s for a report I’m writing on House Elves.”

The librarian took the offered book and looked at the indicated image. “Leave it with me, Miss Scamander. Do you need this book for anything else just at the moment?”

“No, I have others I can be reading.”

The morning passed slowly enough, but the research kept her going. Around break time, a couple of Slytherin girls slipped in quietly, noted her presence and slipped back out again. Nobody would dare confront her in here she knew, but she’d have to be careful when she left.

Madame Pince returned with the book and a piece of parchment that held a smaller and slightly cruder version of the image. Lori smiled her thanks, very much aware of Pince’s insistence on csilence most of the time, and continued her writing. By lunchtime she’d written up half her report. She transferred her work into her bag and left the books opened on the table where they were, intending to come back after lunch.

The library’s only occupants were herself and Madame Pince, and Lori was pretty sure there would be someone from Slytherin keeping an eye on the door for when she left. She reversed her cloak and settled by the door to wait.

She guessed all of Slytherin would know she had her invisibility cloak back by now, so seeing the library door open and close by itself would be too much of a give away. She figured that sooner or later someone would come into the library to work over lunch, or perhaps her those tailing her would poke there heads in to see if she was still there. Either way this called for patience.

Patience is its own reward, but few are satisfied with it. Lori decided she was entirely satisfied with her’s when five minutes later the library door opened and the same two Slytherin girls stepped inside and stopped less than three feet from her.

“She’s not here,” one of them whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, see for yourself.”

“Maybe she’s hiding under her cloak.”

“Yeah, right. Why would she do that in here?”

“What should we do?”

“We need to let the others know.”

“They won’t be happy.”

“Whatever. It’s not our fault. We’ve been standing outside since break, so she must have found some other way out.”

They hurried out leaving Lori barely enough space to step out with them before the door closed.

She followed them up to the fifth floor of the castle where they approached a small, nondescript door. Instinct held her back as they knocked lightly, which was just as well since when it opened a cloud of steam billowed out into the corridor.

Lori had to give them credit for ingenuity. It couldn’t have been pleasant in there, but as a counter measure against invisibility it was pretty effective.

Serendipity chose that moment to smile on Lori. She’d been about to head for the Great Hall and lunch when Mr Filch drifted through the wall beside her.

“Mr Filch,” she said quietly, still hidden under her cloak.

“Who’s there?” Filch looked around suspiciously.

“The Grey Lady,” Lori said. “That door opposite…”

“The prefect’s bathroom? Yeah, what about it?”

“I have observed quite a large group of students entering in the last few minutes. Perhaps you would be so good as to make sure they’re not up to some form of mischief.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Mr Filch! It would hardly be appropriate for a lady to step into a bathroom unannounced?”

“Oh, but it’s alright for someone like me is it?”

“I should say so sir. Is it not your place to maintain order in this castle?”

“Right. Er, yes. I suppose so. Prefect’s bathroom then. Let’s er, let’s have a look.”

He drifted away giving Lori just enough time to back up the corridor and into a sheltered spot beside one of the many statues before the door burst open and a stream of Slytherin students ran out into corridor, scattering in every direction with Filch in hot pursuit.

Lori headed for the Great Hall, turning visible shortly before entering. She noticed Filch’s ghost talking urgently to Professor McGonagall as she settled into the seat Anneka had kept for her on the Hufflepuff table. McGonagall gave her a knowing look as she sat and twitched an eyebrow in her direction. Lori offered up an apologetic grin in return.

“So how was your morning?” Anneka asked.

“Oh, mostly boring but with some highlights. How about yours?”

“Much the same I suppose, but we have defence against the dark arts after lunch, which is something to look forward to.”

“Yeah, if you’re allowed to cast magic,” Lori grumbled. “I’ll be working on my house elf project while you’re all casting spells at boggarts and stuff.”

“You’ll be joining us for herbology though, won’t you?”

“That’s the plan.”

They chatted over lunch, then Anneka walked Lori back to the library before heading off to her own class.

“Would you mind dropping by to pick me up on the way to herbology?” Lori asked.

“Sure. I’ll see you later.”

-oOo-

“It looks like you’re working hard.”

Lori jumped and turned to find Professor McGonagall peering over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry professor, I didn’t hear you.”

“One of the many advantages of being a cat animagus. I’m sorry I startled you.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve assigned some extra work to those members of Slytherin house who seem, by their actions, to have too much time on their hands.”

“That’s… a relief to know professor.”

“The Grey Lady, you should know, has a reputation for being seen but not heard rather than the other way around.”

“It was all I could think of at short notice.”

“Fortunately, Mr Filch continues to be unaware of this. Dare I ask if you were in any way involved in yesterdays little fracas in the forest?”

“It wasn’t my fault, professor. I just went to feed the thestrals.”

“You know you’re not supposed to be using magic.”

“And I didn’t. How could I? You have my wand. Besides, what that healer told me the other day really scared me.”

“As well that it should. Which brings me to the main reason for my visit, Lori. Mr Pawsey will be visiting the school again tomorrow morning in order to work with you, so I would be grateful if you would come directly to my office after breakfast.”

“Yes professor.”

“Carry on with the good work. At this rate, I shall have to find something a little more challenging for you to work on.”

“Yes professor. Professor?”

“Lori?”

“Is Hortensia alright?”

“To my knowledge, both she and her mother are coping as well as might be expected. You can ask her yourself when she returns this evening.”

“She’s coming back already?”

“There’s no reason why she shouldn’t. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, thank you professor.”

“Very well. Have a good afternoon, Miss Scamander.”

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. Anneka turned up as promised to accompany Lori to herbology, which turned out to be one of Professor Longbottom’s more interesting classes, exploring the properties of a cactus-like plant called mimbulus mimbletonia. He warned them not to be too violent with the plants, then demonstrated how the more mature specimens made a crooning noise when stroked gently. They then spent most of the lesson attempting to get them to sing in tune with one another — unsuccessfully, but it was a lot of fun.

The lesson overran slightly and at the end he told them to pack up and stand by the door where a group of Slytherin first and second years were already lining up. Lori recognised some of them from her forest encounter the previous evening. None of them looked particularly happy.

“Alright, class,” Professor Longbottom addressed them. While they’d been lining up, he’d put on his full set of protective clothing. “Earlier, I warned you not to be too vigorous with these beauties. Before you go I’d like to show you why.”

In one hand he held a wide necked flask and in the other an ordinary stick, with which he poked the nearest specimen. It wasn’t a hard prod but the plant responded by squirting a foul-smelling green liquid at him, most of which he caught in the flask.

Over noises of disgust from those nearest, the professor explained about the plant’s defence mechanism then added that the sap possessed medicinal properties which made it well worth collecting. He dismissed the class and invited the Slytherins to join him, their disgruntled expressions turning to looks of dismay as it dawned on them just what they’d be doing in their detention.

Anneka and Lori were still laughing and talking about the lesson as they entered the Great Hall. They spotted Hortensia at the Hufflepuff table, already half-way through her meal.

“Hi H,” Lori began as they approached. “I’m really sorry about your dad.”

“Yeah, well, it is what it is.”

“You know, if there’s anything I can do…”

“Sure. Just leave me alone, will you?”

Hortensia abandoned the remains of her dinner and strode out of the hall, Morgana close on her heels.

“You can’t fix things for everyone, Lori,” Anneka said.

“I know, but she’s my friend and I feel kind of responsible.”

“Well, that’s because you are, dear,” Professor Sprout’s quiet voice in her ear made Lori jump. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a start. I saw you come in and thought you’d like this.” She handed across a small package. “It’s that sewing project of yours. I finished it off this morning.”

“Thank you professor. Is Hortensia…?”

“You might want to give her some space for now. She is quite understandably working through some issues. She asked to move back to her original dormitory. I’ve checked with her former room mates and they’ve agreed, under the circumstances.”

“What do you mean, under the circumstances?”

“That you currently look like a mixture of the two people she associates most with what happened to her father — Raphael, whose family invited him into the Order, and you who orchestrated his arrest.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t take it personally. She’s feeling rather than thinking at the moment. Give her time; she’ll most likely come around.”

Sprout returned to the professor’s table.

“Mmm. Toad in the hole.” Anneka said from beside her. She began loading up two plates.

“I’m not that hungry,” Lori replied, sitting beside her.

Anneka chose to ignore her friend, placing two overfilled plates in front of each of them. “Do you ever wonder, given where we are, if they might make this with real toad?”

Lori smiled bravely and picked up her knife and fork. After the first bite, she realised she was quite hungry after all.

After they’d eaten, Lori persuaded Anneka to accompany her to the kitchens. Anni said she only had a few minutes to spare as she was due for another session with Mugglewump.

“What is it with that guy?” Lori asked. “I mean why can’t he leave us alone?”

“It’s okay Lor. I’m actually learning stuff.”

“Maybe I should come along as well.”

“You probably wouldn’t get much out of it, not having your wand and everything.”

“Fine, but don’t let him bully you.”

“I won’t, I promise. Anyway, what’s this about?”

They’d arrived at the kitchens where Lori was looking about. “We’re looking for a house elf in a grubby red dress.”

“What?”

“Over there.” Lori had spotted Winky slumped in a dark corner with bottle of butter beer in one hand. She headed over with her friend close behind.

“Hello Winky.”

The elf looked up through miserable, bloodshot eyes.

“I brought you something.” Lori handed over the package.

“Mistress is giving Winky a present.”

“It’s not much. I just thought you must feel different from everyone else here because you’re not dressed the same.”

“Winky is not being able to wear the Hogwarts tea towel because she is a free elf and she is having to wear clothes.”

“I know, which is why I made you a dress out of a couple of Hogwarts tea towels. It’s still clothes, but…”

Winky tore open the package and held up the dress. It was rather shapeless, reflecting Lori’s sewing skills, but the size looked good. The elf stared at the garment, her small mouth hanging open.

“I hope it’s alright. I’m not very good at sewing, but…”

Winky turned shining eyes towards Lori, then abruptly vanished, leaving the half finished bottle of butter beer and the torn wrapping.

“Well, that was a thing.” Anneka said.

“Yeah, not quite the response I was looking for. Another disaster for Team Lori.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re trying, and that’s what matters.”

“I’m messing things up, and that’s what matters.” Lori was about to turn and leave when Winky reappeared with a loud crack. She was wearing the new dress and her entire face was shining with joy.

“Mistress, oh mistress! This is being the happiest day of Winky’s life.” The small creature threw her arms around Lori’s left leg, rooting her to the spot.

Lori disentangled herself from the small creature and crouched down next to her.

“Can I ask you to try something, Winky?”

“Oh, anything mistress! Anything at all!”

“I’d like you to try and join in with the other house elves working here. No more butter beer, no more sulking in the corner.”

“Winky is a free elf. She doesn’t have to work.”

“She doesn’t… I mean you don’t have to not work either. Being free means you have a choice, not that you have to do the opposite of what you were doing. You may find that if you choose to be a part of something, you’ll end up feeling better about yourself. Please, just try. For me.”

“Winky is not being able to say no. She is so happy.”

“Well, try and fit in.” The larger elf Lori had spoken to the previous time stood quietly to one side, a look of approval on his face. “Do what… I’m sorry,” Lori said to the newcomer, “I didn’t ask your name last time.”

“I is called Mani, mistress.”

“Thank you Mani. Winky, try doing what Mani asks you to do. I know being free means you don’t have to do what you’re told, but choosing to do something worthwhile brings a whole lot more happiness than you’ll find in a bottle.”

“Winky will try mistress. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I have to go,” Anneka said. “Thanks for bringing me down here though. It was fun watching Team Lori’s latest disaster.”

Lori gave her friend a dirty look, but Anneka had already turned her back.

-oOo-

The rest of the term settled into something of a routine. With the threat from the Slytherin students neutralised — none of them wanted to risk another evening collecting stinksap — Lori felt safer wandering around the castle by herself. There were still rare occasions when she felt the need to disappear under her cloak, the most notable when the remainder of the Slytherin students returned, but apart from a renewal of the angry glares at mealtimes, there was no resurgence of the threat.

Anneka continued with her evening sessions with Mugglewump, disappearing after dinner almost daily and refusing to say anything more about them. Hortensia remained aloof. Lori bumped into her from time to time, usually with Morgan or some of her dorm mates, with whom she now seemed good friends. Lori would usually smile and say hi, following which there would be a few seconds’ awkward silence before they went their separate ways.

In the absence of her two closest friends, Lori became something of a recluse. To almost every other student in Hogwarts she was a hero or — in the case of most Slytherins — a villain, and she didn’t feel ready to fight her way through either opinion in search of a new friend who’d be normal with her. She continued her visits to the forest, usually on her own but sometimes accompanied by either Lysander or Hagrid. Mostly she spent time with the thestrals, whose clearing was nearby, but she hadn’t forgotten the debt she owed to the unicorns. The unicorns’ home was too deep into the forest for her to visit though, so all she could do was wait for them to approach her.

Twice a week Marcus Pawsey would come from St Mungo's and work with her on repairing the damage inside her. As he’d promised, it wasn’t anywhere near as unpleasant as their first session, but it was hard work and frustratingly slow in producing any results.

She still wasn’t allowed to use magic either during or outside of the sessions, but instead was given projects to investigate the theory behind the different magical disciplines. Binns had been uncharacteristically enthusiastic about her report on house elves and gave her a number of additional topics to look into, including one on Ekrisdis and Azkaban, which she particularly enjoyed as it allowed her to include the information she’d gleaned from both Randolph’s journal and her experiences with the Order of Purity. Binns was particularly taken with this and suggested to Professor McGonagall that it should be sent to the publishers of the History of Magic for inclusion as an addendum in future editions.

The other professors gave her topics to investigate as well, starting off with easy topics but making them more challenging as she proved to be quite a capable researcher. It meant she ended up spending more time in the Library then even her brother, and on rare occasions was even granted limited, supervised access to the restricted section.

It was a lonely time though. She’d spent most of her life in solitude, or rather he had when he’d be Lorcan. This was familiar in some ways, but not so sad. Before, when she’d been alone, her life had consisted of enduring the weight of the wrongness in her life. This time she missed her friends, continued to hate her mismatched body, but somehow still found a degree of contentment in the way she was. Ugly, patchwork monster perhaps, but still a girl.

More time passed. Lori’s continued sessions with the Healer from St Mungo’s began to show fruit, and he finally pronounced her ready to start practising magic once more, if only gently to start with. Under his observation, she cast lumos and felt a new strength within herself surrounding the part where the magic flowed. He likened her to a storm-damaged tree seeping sap from its wounds until it covered the weakened parts and hardened. She could sense the increased strength within herself and realised for the first time how fragile she had been before.

The leak that maintained her disfigurement remained, and Marcus expressed his regret but felt it unwise to cap it just yet. Likely she would have to live with it for many years to come and possibly even the rest of her days. In time she might be able to learn how to redirect the constant flow, but for now it still acted as a safety valve, preventing pressure from building and threatening the structure they continued to reinforce.

It was a blow, but one she’d been preparing herself for. In the long weeks she’d grown accustomed to her new shape. Most of her schoolmates stood more than ready to offer her a helping hand any time she needed. They weren’t phased by her appearance, and if they weren’t then she had no reason to be.

Towards the end of the term, Anneka, Hortensia and a whole lot of her girl friends suddenly shot up several inches, dealing one more blow to the differences between her and her friends.

“Girls tend to grow earlier then boys,” Anneka had told her. “I mean er, if you’re physically a girl, sort of. Sorry that came out all wrong.”

“It’s alright,” Lori said, looking for all the world as though it really wasn’t. “I mean tell it how it is.”

“I will then. You’re a girl where it matters, and if your body hasn’t figured that out, it still doesn’t change what matters.”

It brought her conversation with the house elves to mind. You couldn’t afford to ignore the everyday influences around you, but at the heart of the matter, it was what was inside you that defined who you were. There were some bits inside that you could change, but there still remained an immutable core at the heart of how you defined yourself, not just to yourself, but to other people too.

It didn’t help much. In a couple of weeks the Easter Holidays would be on them and Lori had to choose between going home looking as she did or remaining at the school for two weeks without Anneka or Lysander for company.

She had spell casting practice to catch up on which wizarding law wouldn’t permit her to do at home. Her parents would probably be disappointed, but it felt like the right thing to do. It seemed the professors were conspiring to fill up the holiday with homework anyway, so it wouldn’t make that much difference where she stayed. Chances were she’d be spending most days slaving over a piece of parchment.

“I could ask Mum and Dad if you could come stay with us,” Anneka offered as the last week plodded towards the end.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure it would be any better wandering around your neighbourhood looking like this than it would mine. There’ll still be a few people around the school, and I’m kind of used to being on my own anyway. Not that I’m likely to have much free time, but I was thinking of having another crack at Randolph’s journal if you still have it.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I took it home with me. Like I said, I have a friend in the local library who’s into genealogy. I thought we might use some of the later entries to see if we could find out a bit about Randolph’s, or rather Arabella’s family tree.”

“I guess all I’d do is stare at the pages and wonder what he meant. At least you have a plan.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“No. I have a bunch of spells I need to practise anyway. With that and this mountain of homework we’ve got, I doubt I’d have time anyway.”

“At least we’ll be able to send owls this time.”

“Too right, and I want to hear about everything you find out the moment you do.”

Lysander also made an offer. “Easter won’t be the same without you, sis. It’ll be weird with just Mum, Dad and me. Why don’t I stay up here as well? Then the ‘rents can come visit us as often as they want.”

Lori smiled. “It’s a great offer Lye, and thank you. We don’t see much of each other during term though. You have your Ravenclaw friends and I have my Hufflepuffs. What makes you think things’ll be different if you stay up. Besides, you have mates back home. This is the only chance you’re going to get to play footing the ball.”

“Football, Lori. Honestly, I think you do it on purpose.”

“What if I do?”

Lysander gave his sister an appraising look for a moment. “I’m worried, Lori. It feels like we’re losing you all over again.”

Lori managed a weary smile. “I don’t think so, Lye, but thanks for worrying. This is… it’s a bit the same ‘cos I’m kind of stuck being different from how I want to be, but at the same time it’s not as bad, ‘cos the me inside is still getting out. In some ways I don’t know if it’s easier being so much of a freak on the outside, because it kind of hides the bit of me that’s a freak on the inside.”

“Lori, no-one thinks you’re a freak.”

“Maybe not here, what about back at home? What would those kids call me if they saw me coming down the street looking like this? ‘Oh look, here comes Bride of Frankenstein.’ Not much different from just calling me Frankenstein if I wore trousers instead of a skirt.”

“I didn’t realise you knew anything about Frankenstein.”

“I do listen to Dad sometimes, you know. But you do understand, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” Lysander sighed, “and I guess you’re right. It’s not going to be the same without you though.”

-oOo-

End of term came and most of the students left. Lori found it oddly unsettling waking up to an empty dormitory. It gave her a sense of isolation that drove her into herself so that, despite the assurances she’d given her brother, she found herself withdrawing deeper and deeper.

Aside from practising her spell casting, which she did under the tutelage of any available professor, she wandered the castle and grounds aimlessly. Well almost so. Several times a day, her lumpen stride would carry her up to a certain seventh story corridor, where she would walk back and forth until a member of staff would come by and suggest she needed some fresh air.

As fresh as the air might have been, it occupied a space beneath leaden skies and, more often than not, shared it with some form of precipitation. Lori still braved the miserable weather on a daily basis in order to continue visiting the herd of thestrals, and the one in particular who’d acted as her mount.

She was on her way back to the castle one day early on in the break. A steady drizzle had been falling all morning. The canopy of leaves provided some protection, but at the same time combined the fine drops into large ones which conspired to aim down the back of her dress. She’d been trying to dodge them when she noticed a light off to one side of the path. A slight diversion to find its source revealed a unicorn mare standing amidst the trees.

She approached it and bowed as Hagrid had shown her the first time. When the gentle beast had acknowledged her, she picked up a handful of grass and set about grooming. It took her about an hour, and when she’d done, the beast nodded its thanks and turned back into the forest.

The next day the same thing happened, though with a different unicorn. Once she’d finished her ministrations, she passed by Hagrid’s hut to tell him what had happened and to ask if she could borrow a curry comb or grooming brush, or both, in case it happened again.

As the week progressed, she settled into a routine. Breakfast then a laborious climb up to the seventh floor corridor where nothing continued to happen. Mid-morning, she’d head down to the kitchens and pick up a basket full of raw meat from the house elves. This she’d take to the thestrals and share among them. On her way back, she’d always find a unicorn and sometimes two, and would pause long enough to give them a good rub down before heading back to the castle in time for lunch. The afternoon she’d spend with one professor or another, practising the magic she’d not been permitted to use during most of the previous term, then in the evening, once she’d toiled though some of her homework, she’d find a comfortable spot in the Hufflepuff common room with Professor Sprout where they would knit and talk into the night, or on occasions when Lori wasn’t feeling very vocal, just knit. Using magic was tricky, but potentially easier than doing it manually when one of her hands was half as big again as the other.

She’d written to Anneka in the first days of the holidays, but as she settled into her routine, there seemed to be less and less to report. Anneka’s replies were short and not very informative, and by the end of the first week, their commitment to write daily faded and the letters became less and less regular.

On the Friday afternoon, she practised casting more advanced spells with Professor Longbottom. Her Patronus remained as the fiery winged unicorn she’d conjured since her time in the forest, and she found she could conjure it easily enough even without feeling particularly happy. Hope was a choice, she told herself and chose to be hopeful.

At the end of their session together, Neville invited her to lunch on Easter Sunday, the Sunday in the middle of the holiday. “We’re having a few friends over, including your parents and your brother, so don’t say no.”

Lori managed a genuine smile. “Thank you, I’d love to come.”

“Good. We’ll leave after breakfast if that’s alright with you? Hannah will appreciate a little help getting things ready, assuming you don’t mind lending a hand?”

“Of course not.”

Saturday she didn’t have any magical training scheduled so, once she’d completed her rounds of the seventh floor corridor, the thestrals’ clearing and the inevitable unicorn grooming, she settled at her desk in the dorm and wrote Anneka a long overdue letter.

Hey you, she wrote, I haven’t heard anything in a while, but not sure who’s turn it is? I know I haven’t written as much as I said I would, and I’m sorry, but there hasn’t been that much going on. Still visiting the thestrals in the morning. Still finding unicorns to groom on the way back. Still practising magic in the afternoon. Still knitting in the evening. It’s peaceful and relaxing and probably just what I need right now, but I can already feel a bit of an itch to get on a do something different.

How are you? I hope you’re well and enjoying whatever you’re getting up to this break. I miss you and am looking forward to term starting again, even if we’re going to be spending most of it working towards end of year exams. The school seems kind of empty without you in it.

Oh yeah, one piece of news. Professor Longbottom’s invited me to lunch tomorrow. Mum and Dad will be there, so I won’t be on my own on Easter. Would love to hear your news.

All my love,

Lori.

She read it through, folded it into an envelope and headed down to the owlery to send it. On her way back, her feet took her one more time up the long staircase to the seventh floor corridor where, in a fit of petulance, she shouted at the wall.

“A lot of good you are,” she yelled, surprising herself with the with the intensity of her own feelings. “You’re supposed to be the Room of Requirement. You’re supposed to give me what I need. You did it before, so why don’t you do it now?”

The bricks moved. It was as thought they’d been waiting for her to ask, or maybe they’d just been waiting and responded because she asked. The familiar blue door appeared with the familiar sign above it. Tentatively she reached for the door and tugged. It opened.

Inside was a vast empty room. Bare stone walls, high vaulted ceilings and nothing else. Or no, there was something. A regular ticking. She turned and found above the door, a grandmother clock attached to the wall. The pendulum swung slowly back and forth, ticking gently at the furthest reach of its swing. The clock face seemed to show the correct time, but other than that there was nothing special about it.

“So what’s this supposed to mean?” she yelled. “You’ve given up helping me have you? You wait until I’m stuck looking like something out of a horror story, then nothing?”

“Lori?” A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Lori took a deep breath and pulled herself together. Wiping away the angry tears that streaked her face, she pushed her way through the door.

“Are you alright?” Professor McGonagall asked, her eyes soft with concern.

Lori felt her resolve crumble away. She burst into tears and collapsed on the floor.

With a sigh, McGonagall lowered herself down beside her young charge. Her old bones protested at the abuse, but this wasn’t a time to listen to their complaints. She reached comforting arms around the young girl and waited for the flood waters to ebb.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said in a gently petulant tone.

“What?” Lori snivelled.

“You’ve been through such a lot, Lori. You had your parents kidnapped, you were nearly killed in the forest, and if those weren’t enough, you’ve had to come to terms with this… unfortunate alteration of your appearance. There isn’t a soul alive could go through all that unscathed.

“Lori, you’ve been incredibly brave through the past few weeks, but it was bound to catch up with you sooner or later.”

“But.. It’s not… It’s the Room of Requirements.” She waved at the wall behind her, now once more concealing the door. “It’s…”

“It’s what, Lori?”

“It’s what started all this. It gave me what I needed to begin this journey and it’s given me what I’ve needed at different stages along the way. Since I’ve been like this, though, it just hasn’t been there. Not until now, and then there was nothing in it! Just a big empty room!”

“Completely empty?”

“Well, there was a clock over the door, but…”

The professor arched an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“The room always contains only exactly what the person who called it requires. I should hope a clever girl like you won’t need this particular message spelled out for you.”

“Nothing but time,” Lori mumbled.

“Quite so. Well, if we’re done for now, perhaps you wouldn’t mind helping me back onto my feet. These stones are a bit chilly.”

Lori stood and held out her hand. Helping the elderly professor proved to be considerably easier than she’d anticipated. She must have been a lot lighter than she seemed, unless…”

“Stand straight for a moment, would you?” McGonagall asked.

Lori did so, finding she was holding her shorter, right leg bent a little.

“Let me adjust that heel a little.”

The professor waved her wand briefly and Lori felt her legs adjusting to match. She looked down at her right shoe which had now considerably reduced in size.

“It appears you are catching up with yourself, and doing so quite nicely. Perhaps it could still do with a helping hand, so if you’ve nothing pressing on your schedule for the moment, perhaps you’d follow me.” She strode of down the corridor leaving the young girl to follow with a somewhat reduced limp.

-oOo-

“Professor Longbottom’s here, dear,” Professor Sprout’s head appeared around the door to Lori’s dormitory.

Lori, who had been standing in front of her wardrobe repeating a spell over and over, smiled her thanks. She couldn’t see any difference in her appearance since earlier, but McGonagall had told her not to expect instant results.

After a considerable amount of deliberation, she’d settled on the first dress she’d worn off the rack for the party. The many buttons had presented a problem until she’d thought to go find Professor Sprout, but it had proved to be the right choice. The full sleeves went a long way to hiding the difference in her arms, a difference which had diminished somewhat in the same way as her legs, which in their turn were well enough matched under a pair of thick, white tights.

She moved aside the curtain of hair and examined her face. The part that still resembled Raphael seemed a little less at odds, but not enough. She let the curtain fall and gave herself an appraising look. Certainly not hideous. Either she hadn’t grown much or the clothes the Room of Requirements had provided her had enough magic in them to adapt to her changing form.

She decided she’d do and headed for the door.

“I always wondered what it was like in here.” Professor Longbottom stood in the middle of the Hufflepuff common room staring at all the plants. “I think I would have liked being in Hufflepuff.”

“Well, you know there’s nothing to stop professors from coming into the different common rooms,” Professor Sprout said, “and you’d be welcome here any time. You never know. When I retire, you could take over as head of Hufflepuff.”

“Really? Wouldn’t there be some objection?”

“About a Gryffindor being head of Hufflepuff? There’s no hard and fast rule as far as I’m aware, and I can easily see you fitting in.”

“Well, something to consider I suppose. But we should be going, Lori. Hannah won’t be pleased if I end up holding things up.”

They made their way to Merlin’s gate, Lori walking almost without a limp. Outside the castle’s protective spells, Neville took Lori’s hand and she went through the same squeezing and pulling feeling that had accompanied her uncle Harry’s apparating her back to the school. She decided it wasn’t her favourite method of travel.

They appeared behind the bar at the Leaky Cauldron. The saloon was already half filled with people, including…

“Mum! Dad!” Lori cried. She found the gap in the bar and ran across to them, finding it oddly disconcerting to run without nearly matching legs, and throwing herself into her father’s embrace.

He held her for a while then pulled her back to arms length. Pushing the hair to one side he took in her full features, his eyes turning stony as he did so. He directed his anger over Lori’s shoulder. Lori twisted out of her father’s grip to look and found her uncle looking sheepish and uncomfortable.

“It’s not Uncle Harry’s fault, Dad,” she said quietly.

“He let you take that cursed stone out of the Ministry, didn’t he?” Her father’s tone was grim and unforgiving.

“Yes he did. And what would have happened if he hadn’t?” Lori found herself unable to stop her voice rising. “How long would it have been before anyone found you and Mum? Do you think you’d have lasted out against those Dementors? And where would that have left Lye and me?”

The last words came out almost as a shout. The room had fallen silent and every pair of eyes turned on Lori and her father. Rolf had the good grace to look a little ashamed.

“Okay everyone,” Neville stepped into the middle of the tension, an affable smile on his face. “We’re here to celebrate the Spring, the season of new life, of new beginnings. Whatever’s happened in the recent past, can’t we focus on the future for tonight? On the future?

“We’ll start.” He looked over at his wife, handing out drinks from behind the bar. “Hannah’s decided to become a Healer. There’s a training post come up at St Mungo’s, and we’re hoping in a few years, when she’s completed her training, she’ll be able to take over from Madame Pomfrey as Hogwarts’ nurse.”

It was enough to distract the crowd. Hannah and Neville disappeared under a flurry of congratulations, leaving Harry and Rolf a patch of relative quiet to approach one another.

“Lori’s right,” Rolf began. “If she hadn’t been able to get to us with Lysander’s wand, we wouldn’t have survived those Dementors. I should really be thanking you.”

“No,” Harry said. “You should be thanking your daughter, and you have every right to feel angry about what happened to her. I’ve felt awful about it. Lori, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright Uncle Harry. I mean I’m still mostly me.” It surprised Lori how easily she was able to smile. “Besides, I’m beginning to grow into the changes and Professor McGonagall’s given me a spell that will help me even everything out eventually. I don’t look that bad, do I?”

“You look stunning. You know you don’t need to hide your face, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I like it better this way. I don’t really want everyone staring at me.”

Harry laughed. “I get that.” He touched his own slightly longer than tidy fringe covering the scar over his eye. “You might want to try not shouting though, if you don’t want people staring.”

He stood up and turned his attention back to Lori’s father, who held out a hand. They shook and at least one thing was better.

Lysander appeared and took hold of Lori’s hand. It turned out they weren’t the only children there and the younger contingent had their own party going on in a different room. James Potter was playing a game of gobstones with Hugo Weasley while the rest of the group looked on. Lori recognised Lily and Albus Potter standing behind their brother while Rose Weasley’s red hair marked her out from everyone else. It was Hugo’s turn and he played a superb shot, knocking three stones out of the circle and spraying a healthy squirt of liquid towards James, who might have avoided most of it had Lily not ‘accidentally’ tripped and nudged him directly into its path.

“Yuck! Lil, some of that went in my mouth!”

“Oops, sorry,” Lily said with a quite grin. “I was distracted, thinking about all that butterbeer me and Hugo had to make.”

Hugo’s next shot cleared two more stone and sent a squirt of liquid into James’s eye. “Yeah,” he said. “I think this stuff actually smells better, don’t you think, Lil?”

“Alright!” shouted James, as he wiped the foul goo off his face with the corner of his robe. “Look, I’m sorry about the witch’s statue, but I thought everyone knew about that.”

“Yeah, right!” Lily said.

“You owe me one more game,” Hugo said, gathering the gobstones together.

“Or,” James said loudly, then more quietly, “or I could show you the map.”

“I knew you nicked it,” Lily said.

“Don’t tell Dad. He thinks it’s still in his desk.”

“Why would we tell anyone?” Hugo asked. “I mean as long as you share it with us all, it’s in our best interests to keep it a secret, isn’t it?”

James let out a resigned sigh and pulled a piece of parchment out of his robes. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” he said as he touched the parchment with his wand. It unfolded and for the next half hour, he showed everyone the remaining undiscovered secret ways in and out of Hogwarts Castle.

Nobody paid Lori much attention, which suited her well. She scanned the map for the seventh floor corridor, but it looked like all the others.

“We’ll be eating in ten minutes,” Hannah announced from behind them, making a good number of them jump. She turned suspicious. “What are you up to?”

“Just planning a mass breakout from Hogwarts next term,” Lori said casually, earning herself a few sharp looks from her peers.

“Best not to get caught then,” Hannah laughed. “Which you’ll manage better if you don’t look so guilty. Go on, wash up and come join us in the main saloon.”

The meal rivalled a Hogwarts feast and was only slightly marred by the adults insisting on asking their kids what they thought they might want to do when they left school. There were a lot of I don’t knows. Lysander’s announcement that he intended to become a teacher met with considerable approval and was followed by a range of vaguely biased advice on what subject he might choose. James inevitably declared his intention of following in his father’s footsteps and becoming an auror, and then it was Lori’s turn.

“What about you, Lori?” Harry asked. “You’ve the making of a fine auror yourself.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m all that ready to pay the price.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I met someone recently. Sheldon Landys. He said his father’s an auror and he’s, er… He’s lost a few limbs over the years.”

“Well, it’s true it can be dangerous, but you’re not guaranteed to lose bits. I’m still intact.”

“Because he knows what I’d do with him if he came home missing any parts,” Ginny said, prompting a round of polite laughter.

“How about teaching?” Neville asked. “You were at least as good at your brother when you were showing everyone how to produce a Patronus.”

“I don’t think I was. I mean I probably managed to teach about as many people, maybe, but I’m not as enthusiastic about it as Lye, and that’s what inspires people to learn.”

“Maybe follow your great grandfather then,” Lori’s dad suggested. “You have an easy way with animals.”

“I don’t know. I was thinking, but I’m not even sure if it’s a thing.”

“What?”

“I was thinking about maybe working with house elves. See if I can find out a bit more about them, sort of thing.”

The room fell silent for a while. A sort of uncomfortable silence that suggested an uncomfortable subject had been raised, one that most people were choosing to ignore. Only Hermione, Hugo and Rose’s mother, showed any amount of interest.

“Well, if you still feel the same way when you graduate from Hogwarts, you should make an appointment to see me,” she said. “I actually have an announcement to make as well. After the mist incidents at Hogwarts and the ministry, Kingsley Shacklebolt has decided to step down as Minister for Magic. I only heard today, but they’ve offered me the post.”

It prompted a round of congratulations, drawing the attention away from Lori, for which she was grateful. In the midst of it all, she shared a long and highly communicative look with the newest Minister for Magic. She was serious about having that talk with Lori, it seemed.

The meal ended with a magnificent array of cakes and sweets, after which the children sat back with overfilled stomachs and watched a series of spells make short work of the cleaning up. When all was done, the different families started disapparating back to their homes.

Neville, of course, was home, so it was down to Luna and Rolf to look after their children. It was late, so they decided to divide and conquer. Rolf took Lysander back to their home leaving Lori and her mother to head back to Scotland.

Somehow Luna managed to make apparating gentler than either Lori’s uncle or her herbology professor. They appeared, as they had when Luna first brought them, just beyond the covered bridge, close to the forbidden forest.

“Do you mind being different?” Luna asked her daughter.

“Not really,” Lori answered after giving it some thought. “You get more people staring at you, which I could happily do without, but overall I think I’m happiest just being me, even if it does draw people’s attention.”

Luna removed her shoes and stockings and wiggled her toes in the grass. She smiled at her child. “You should try this some time. I don’t know if it’ll do the same for you, but it makes me feel more connected, to the world.”

“Maybe I will, when my legs are closer to being the same.”

The smile turned sad. “I’m sorry that happened to you, love.”

“Me too, but I’d do it again, Mum.”

“I know you would, though I wish there had been another way.”

“I love you, Mum.” Lori threw her arms around her mother’s neck.

“I love you too, but it’s late, so maybe you’d better be getting to bed.”

High in her office, Minerva smiled down at the two small figures, watching as they parted, one to limp — if only very slightly — across the covered bridge, the other to disappear into the tangled mess that was apparition.

It was getting late and she could hear her old bones calling her to bed. Her inbox was closwer to empty than it had been in a while, but it would fill again tomorrow. There was always something calling for her attention. The trick was knowing when to stop listening for a while.

-oOo-

Morning came. Lori arrived early for breakfast and had nearly finished eating when an owl swooped down and landed on the table next to her. It dropped an envelope next to her plate.

Lori absent-mindedly picked up a rasher of bacon she’d decided not to eat and offered it to the bird. She recognised Anneka’s writing and tore the envelope open.

Hey Bestie,

Thanks for your letter. I know what you mean about not much to write about though. My days seem to be filled with reading and homework. I am going shopping with Mum next week though, so if you need me to get you anything from Diagon Alley, do let me know before Thursday.

If the weather forecast is right for once, I think we’re having better weather than you, but not by much. The sun did come out for a bit yesterday, but mainly it’s been grey and drizzly, so no real incentive to go outside.

My mum's been pestering me to start my revision. I tell her it’s only first year exams and they’re months away, but she keeps saying I should start as I mean to go on. She wants to know what you’re doing, and I suppose with all the spell practise you’re getting that probably counts as early revision, but it still feels too early to start.

Maybe when I get back we can talk about putting together a revision plan between us. Maybe even persuade H to join us, though i suspect the only way that’ll happen will be if MM comes too, and then I doubt they’ll end up doing much revision.

Anyway, reading and homework awaits, so I’d better finish this and go find our owl. I miss you I’m counting the days.

All my love,

Ani.

Lori gave the owl a gentle tickle under the beak by way of saying thank you and set off about her morning routine. She didn’t bother passing by the seventh floor any more. The Room of Requirement had made it quite plain how much help it was prepared to offer, and it wasn’t worth chasing after more. Instead, she picked up her curry comb and grooming brush and headed down to the kitchen for her daily scraps of meat for the thestrals. As usual, they gathered to her as soon as she arrived. As usual, they patiently waited their turn as she handed out the meat. They certainly didn’t need to eat every day, but they were equally as happy to do so. Besides, it amused Lori who kept looking for any signs of any of them fattening up a little. They remained as emaciated as ever.

With feeding time over, she spent a little special time with the one that had carried her. It didn’t have any distinguishing marks as such, but she’d learned to recognised it from the way it carried itself.

When she was done, she made her way back out of the forest, looking for and finding the expected unicorn. She doubted she’d ever tire of grooming them. They were such magnificent beasts, and she owed them so very much. That being said it was pleasure at least as much as gratitude that prompted her actions.

Her morning routine done, she watched as the brilliantly glowing unicorn trotted off back into the forest. On a whim, she removed her shoes and socks and pressed her feet into the soft soil. Her feet were distinctly different in both size and appearance still, so she wiggled them back and forth until they were covered by all the detritus that makes up the forest floor. She closed her eyes and reached beyond her feet with her mind. As her mother had suggested, she felt a connection. Perhaps it was imagination, but she was sure she felt the presence of the herd of thestrals behind her, of the unicorn making its leisurely way to its home deep in the forest, of the trees and plants around her. She chanted her way through the spell McGonagall had taught her and allowed the peace of her surroundings suffuse her.

After lunch, she practised some of the incantations necessary in the production of potions with Professor Mugglewump. He pushed her hard, but he praised her fairly when she performed well enough to merit it. As a last task for the session, he had her prepare a beautification potion using the recipe in the first year book of potions.

He took a small sample from her cauldron, and instructed her on the correct amount of ginger and ground boomslang skin to add. He pronounced the small vial of sparking golden liquid fit for use and invited Lori to drink it.

“How long will it last?” she asked.

“A small amount like this? Perhaps three days. Certainly no more than four.”

“Won’t it make me look like a boy?”

“It is likely to enhance your masculine traits more than your, er, feminine ones, yes. What it will also do is even out the length and appearance of your limbs and merge the different influences in your face. Whatever else its effects, it’ll make you look a little less unusual than you do now.

“Combined with the growth you’re currently going through and the spell Professor McGonagall taught you, it’s likely to end up with you looking a lot more like you brother than you do now. I know it’s not really what you want, but it is what was going to happen to you anyway, and it is an improvement on your current predicament, I hope you’ll agree.”

Lori brushed her hair away from the hidden part of her face. She had to admit, looking like her brother would be better. She unstoppered the vial, raised it to her lips and paused.

“Do you have a mirror?” she asked.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” He rummaged around in his office for a while before returning with a hand mirror. “I use it to check for breath in someone who’s taken a draught of living death,” he said as though he felt need to explain why he possessed one.

“Thank you,” Lori said without further comment and drank the potion.

It tasted unsurprisingly of ginger with very slight floral hint to it. It made her skin tingle all over and she could feel herself change. Her right shoe began to pinch so she kicked it off gently. She reached for the mirror and pulled her hair aside so she could watch her face altering. The part she still had from Raphael blended into the whole until she once more looked like herself, although a recognisably older and less delicate version of herself. The only evidence that remained of Raphael was a green tint in her right eye, which was markedly different from the silver blue she had inherited from her mother.

Her arms and legs were the same length and her left foot now felt a little small for the shoe she’d been given from Raphael’s wardrobe. She tried holding the mirror at arms length, but it didn’t give her enough of a view of the overall effect. She was worried it left her looking even more like a boy in a dress than her mixed up appearance had, but she couldn’t tell. She turned to look at Mugglewump, searching his face for any trace of humour or malice. She didn’t find them.

He nodded. “Not what you would prefer, I’m quite sure, but an improvement nonetheless. You should continue chanting Professor McGonagall’s spell, but I have hopes that this will be an improvement you can live with more easily.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a number of influences working in your body right now, Lori. You are naturally growing into your adult self, something which would have happened regardless, I hope you realise this. You have that… I prefer not to think of it as a leak, but rather an alternative channel that provides a constant flow of magic to you. Formerly you directed it, however unwittingly, to maintain the likeness of Raphael, something which his mother only partially undid. This channel is malleable to a degree while you undergo your current changes, and Professor McGonagall’s spell is intended to focus your subconscious to influence it and hopefully change it to maintain an alteration more to your liking, and now you have this, the effects of the beautification potion. Professor McGonagall and I discussed how it might influence your changes. We both agree that they should have a more positive influence than otherwise, but to be sure, we decided it would be best to try a small amount to begin with and review the effects once it has worn off. Once it has done so, please come and find either Professor McGonagall or myself, and we’ll decide what is the best course of action to take from there.

“In the meantime, you are to be commended on your capacity for brewing a beautification potion. Should you perform as well in your end of year exams, I will have no choice but to award you a mark of outstanding.”

“Thank you, Professor Mugglewump, but I’m a little bit confused. I didn’t think you liked me very much.”

He remained still for a while, holding an impassive expression on his face. Once he felt able to maintain it, he responded. “Miss Scamander, this has nothing to do with my feelings towards you. I hope that I would extend what help I could to any student under my care who had endured the sort of disfigurement forced upon you. As for your potion making, I could not fault it even if I wished to.

“Remember, once the effects of the potion wear off, come and find me or Professor McGonagall immediately. You may find you don’t revert entirely to your former appearance, but you will see some change. Now, good day to you.”

He took the hand mirror back and turned towards his office.

Lori removed her other shoe and made her way through mercifully empty corridors back to her dormitory. Her reflection in the full length mirror in her wardrobe informed her that there was something of a boy in a dress to her appearance — broader shoulders, less delicacy about her face, more hair everywhere — but it wasn’t so bad. A little makeup would go some way to keeping her looking feminine, though there were certain of her clothes that wouldn’t look right any more. She tried a few outfits and confirmed that they did seem to be adjusting size to match her body. She tried a pair of shoes and was relieved to find they fit without pinching.

With a considerable amount of time before dinner, she set off for the headmaster’s tower and McGonagall’s office where she found the professor bent over a piece of parchment. She looked up as Lori entered.

“Well, it seems that has worked quite nicely. I hope you showed your appreciation.”

“I did, and thank you as well.”

“You understand this is not a permanent solution, but hopefully a step towards one.”

“Professor Mugglewump did explain things, yes.”

“So what is it I can do for you, Miss Scamander?”

“I was hoping you might be able to suggest a way to get rid of all this extra hair.” She pulled back a sleeve. “My legs are the same and my body as well.”

McGonagall fought to hide a smile. “I’m sorry Lori, this isn’t a problem that has concerned me either in the past or the present. Perhaps you might ask your friend. I believe her mother is a hair witch, is she not?”

“Er, yes, but I was hoping to have a solution a little sooner than that.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you. On the plus side, I believe the weather we are due to face for the remainder of this week is conducive to long sleeves and thick leggings, so you shouldn’t have to worry about displaying your hairy self to others.”

“Oh. Well, er, thank you.”

“Good. Now, is that all, or are you perhaps at a loss for something to do. I’d be quite happy to give you an essay to research and write.”

“No, that’s alright professor. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“You shall indeed.”

Lori high-tailed it down to the library, where she sat to write a letter.

Hi Ani,

Thanks for your letter. I think putting a revision plan together when you get back is a good idea. I’m not sure Hortensia has forgiven me yet though, so maybe just the two of us.

I had a fun Easter. Professor Longbottom invited all of Dumbledore’s army for a meal at the leaky cauldron along with their kids, so I got to spend it with Mum and Dad and Lye. I wish you could have been there too, but I’m not sure it would have worked. I found out that Hermione Granger-Weasley is being made the new Minister for Magic and that Hannah Longbottom is going to train as nurse so she can take over from Madam Pomfrey in a few years. Apart from that it was just food and games.

Anyway, there was something I was hoping to ask your mum. I’m kind of starting to change — you know puberty and stuff? I kind of have lots more hair growing all over my body, arms, legs, chest, back, everywhere. It’s kind of gross and I was hoping your mum might know something I could do about it. If it means picking something up from Diagon Alley, then maybe you could do that and maybe send it by owl?

McGonagall’s given me this spell to chant to try and encourage my body to change into something a little less patchwork, and Mugglewump had me brewing a beautification potion from the book. He got me to try some, so I have a few days of being, well kind of good looking in a manly sort of way. It should wear off before you come back and whether they get me to take more depends on the effect it has on the change, so you won’t get to see it. Sorry about that. I’ll ask Professor Spooner if he has any camera equipment — Muggle or magical — so I can have a picture to show you.

Anyway, got to go. I want to get this to an owl before dinner. So looking forward to being back together.

Love

Lori

The last bit wasn’t entirely true as she had loads of time to send it. She folded it into an envelope and wandered across to the owlery where she gave it to a willing bird. That done, she stepped out onto the grass and took of her shoes. In the middle distance it looked like students from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were playing a friendly Quidditch match, not that she was particularly bothered. She’d never been able to get excited about sport — any sport, even Quidditch left her cold and uninterested.

As she made her way around the grounds, she sensed what felt like a heartbeat coming up through the ground. It turned out to be nothing of the sort though. As she rounded the north tower, she found the womping willow, apparently bored without something to womp, beating out a very slow rhythm into the ground. Lori gave it a wide berth and re-entered the castle via the greenhouses. She caught sight of Professor Longbottom in greenhouse one and, on a whim, dropped in to say hello.

“Hello Lori,” Neville smiled at her. “You’re looking a bit back to your old self, I’m glad to see. I like the eyes. Something of a unique look.”

“Thanks. This is only temporary, I think, but I did wonder if you might have something to help get rid of body hair, only I have rather a lot of it and it feels kind of uncomfortable in these clothes.”

“Nothing springs to mind I’m afraid, but I’ll give it a think. If you have some time to spare, I could use a hand. We went through almost my entire supply of mandrake when we were dealing with the effects of the mist, so I’m having to grow a whole new batch. They’re not at all dangerous at this stage, and actually kind of cute. You just have to grab hold of the leaves like this and pull very gently.”

He demonstrated and a tiny face appeared above the soil. It started crying the moment it broke the surface, but Neville was ready with a tiny pipette which he placed into its mouth and squeezed a couple of drops of liquid into the mouth. The plant started sucking at it immediately, all but finishing it several seconds later, at which point, the Herbology master very gently eased the root back underground.

“As you can see, it’s rather delicate and very time consuming. I would be really grateful for some help if you could spare the time.”

Lori could, and she felt her own gratitude towards the young professor, so she took a seat, accepted a little extra instruction and set about a task that kept them both going until dinner time. Neville kept the conversation going, telling Lori all the stories he remembered about his time as a student, especially the ones that involved her mother.

-oOo-

The Peasbottom owl swooped down on Lori ash she was eating her breakfast again the following morning. Tied to its leg was a moderately sized — in proportion to the owl — cardboard box and a letter.

Mum says we don’t have anything half so good as the Muggles use. She says to be careful and try it on a small patch of skin first, ‘cos it can cause a rash. If it doesn’t you’re okay to go. Next time you take a shower, you need to wipe this all over the parts of your body where you want to get rid of the hair. It stinks really bad and you have to leave it on for about ten minutes — no more or you’ll probably get a rash anyway — then stand under the shower and wash it all off. Hope this helps and looking forward to the pics.

Love,

Ani

She had time, so she headed back to the dorm for a second shower. The place was deserted so the smell of the stuff didn’t raise any complaints, and it worked. She felt so much better with the hair gone. Her skin was more sensitive and felt better in her clothes.

The rest of the week passed quickly enough. She continued to help Neville in the greenhouses. She didn’t mind the work, but she really liked the stories the young professor told. He was such easy company, she could see how her mother might have developed a soft spot for him.

Friday morning, she sensed a change in her appearance. She opened her wardrobe door and looked in the mirror. Raphael was back, or at least the parts of his borrowed appearance she’d been unable to get rid of. Her face had gone back to looking misshapen and her arms and legs no longer matched. Lengthwise they were now pretty much like one another, but otherwise they were quite different. Skin colour, muscle tone, even the hair which had regrown on the Maledicta-like limbs.

She didn’t feel much like making the climb up to the headmaster’s office, so washed quickly and headed for the dining hall instead. She’d be able to catch both the head and the potions master there, if she was lucky.

“Ah yes,” Mugglewump said as she limped up to the top table. “I was expecting a visit from you today. Professor McGonagall, perhaps we could spare a few minutes?”

Professor M looked across and nodded, leading them all into a side room where Lori was poked and prodded and asked a barrage of question, most of which seemed to have little relevance.

“It’s definitely helped,” Mugglewump said.

“Has it though,” McGonagall replied. “Do we have any idea how much the two parts would have merged without the potion?”

“But if you look here,” Mugglewump said indicating a place on Lori’s body, “and here and here, you’ll see evidence that the channel is supporting the structure introduced by the potion rather than the original spell.”

“Oh, I agree, but those are parts which would look very much the same in Lori the girl and Lori the boy. The, er, channel as you call it responds to Lori’s subconscious, so when the change is in her favour, when it works towards what she feels she needs, then the change occurs, otherwise it reverts to the default partway stage imposed by Septima’s partially effective spell.”

“Mm. I see what you mean.”

“I don’t.”

“One minute, Lori,” McGonagall said.

“On second thoughts, I believe you’re right,” Mugglewump said. “It’s a shame, because superficially the potion did a good job.”

“Sadly, Lori’s subconscious disagrees.”

“Please, will someone tell me what’s going on here?”

“I’m sorry, Lori. The professor and I have been trying a few things which unfortunately haven’t worked out quite as we hoped. It’s probably not a good idea to tell you much more than that because your conscious mind can influence your subconscious in unpredictable ways. For now, I’m afraid you’re back to looking like this.”

It was a disappointment, but she’d dealt with those before. It did affect her mood though and she remained withdrawn for the rest of the day.

Chapter 17 – Redefining normal by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021
	I planned to post this earlier, but I came down with some sort of food poisoning or irritable bowel thing and my body insisted I sleep most of the day. Feeling better now, but the last posting – the epilogue – needs a bit of work. I hope to get it done today, but it’ll be late

-oOo-
Saturday was better. Breakfast brought news that Anneka had managed to pester her parents into bringing her back a day early. Lori made use of what remained of the cream Anneka’s mother had sent to make herself well and truly hairless. Her overall shape had improved considerably over the two week break. Unfortunately more masculine, but decidedly less unbalanced. While she didn’t have any control over her shape, she chose to do what she could with what she could alter.

Back in loose fitting clothes to hide most of the oddness about herself, with the curtain of hair hiding the part of her face that didn’t work, she set about her holiday routine one last time. Once she’d fed the thestrals, her special friend among them nudged her away from the clearing. She wasn’t sure why, but it was evidently encouraging her to leave.

She did and found herself drawn to another nearby clearing where a unicorn stallion stood waiting for her. She reached for her brushes, but the great creature shook its head and stooped to its knees.

Accepting the invitation, she climbed onto its back. No sooner had she seated herself than the powerful animal leapt into motion, carrying her at breathtaking speed into the depths of the forest.

Their first stop was a clearing Lori knew better than she wished. Her previous time here, it had been swarming with Dementors with the bloodstone lying to one side.

Lori dismounted and headed straight for the place where the last unicorn she had ridden had given his life for her. All that remained was a soft patch of earth and a few scattered bones. She fell to her knees and burst into tears.

Her present companion followed her over and touched his horn lightly to her shoulder, pointing at the patch where her tears fell, where tiny shoots pushed upwards and burst open into blossoms that spread across the area covered by the remains. It was quite beautiful enough to make Lori laugh, even through her memories of the anguish she’d experienced there.

The unicorn stepped towards the new carpet of flowers, dipped its horn in and separated the horn from the remains. This hw prodded towards Lori.

“I couldn’t,” she said. “It’s… I couldn’t.”

The unicorn insisted, rolling the recovered horn until it touched Lori’s knee. She picked it up and the unicorn nodded its approval.

“I suppose, if it’s your custom. I shall treasure it.”

The unicorn led her away from the clearing and after just a few hundred yards, into another. Yet again Lori was familiar with it. All around her, unicorns of all ages raised their heads and looked at her.

The young stallion led her still further, into the centre of the clearing where he reached with his horn into the earth, rummaging around until he had unearthed a stone. Nothing special, except that it was similar in size to the Bloodstone. It reached forward to touch the horn Lori carried, then eased it onto the stone it had unearthed.

It took Lori a few repetitions to get what was being said. “You want me to take this horn and touch it to the Bloodstone, the stone that was over there?” She gestured and pointed as she spoke, and the great beast nodded its head. “That, I’m sure I can do,” Lori said. “Now will you permit me to groom you.”

The great head nodded just once more and then he stood still while Loris set about her task.

-oOo-

It was one of the mares who brought Lori back to the castle. The return journey had been at a far more sedate pace, and she felt she had a reasonable chance of finding her way back to the unicorn clearing without a guide. Whether she could do so safely was another matter. It was late morning by the time she said goodbye to her mount and made her way back across to the castle and her dormitory.

“Where have you been?” Anneka scolded as she walked into the room. Her friend had continued to grow over the holiday and despite Lori’s own growth spurt, she now stood half a head taller. Lori decided she liked being the shorter one as her friend threw her arms around her.

“With the unicorns,” Lori said matter of factly as she disengaged from her friend and start teasing the stallion’s main and tail hairs out of the curry comb’s stiff bristles. She’d been collecting the unicorn hairs for the whole two weeks since she’d started encountering them in the forest, but these were special. Most of her spoils she’d folded into one of the silk scarves that the Room of Requirement had provided as part of the rack of clothes. The stallion’s hairs went into a fresh scarf along with the horn.

“Is that a…?”

“Unicorn horn. Yes. The new head of the herd insisted I take it. He wants me to touch the Bloodstone with it.”

“And just how are you going to do that?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I about promised I would, so I’m going to have to find a way.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve had a much more interesting break than me, so spill. What’s been happening.”

Lori went into as much detail as she could recall of her last two weeks. It felt so good to have her friend back, and just to talk. She wanted to hear Anneka’s news too, but when her friend’s turn came, she became evasive and said how it had been boring for the most part. When Lori pressed, she talked a little about Thursday’s trip to the Diagon Alley and showed off some of the things her mum had bought her. Lori didn’t particularly like the sense she had that her friend was keeping something from her, but she’d learned to trust her, so let it go.

Sunday, Lori took her along to see the thestrals, but apparently being unconscious when news of miss Mitchell’s death and that of her fellow students had been announced didn’t qualify her as having witnessed death, so she was unable to see them. What’s more, the unicorns seemed to have concluded their business with Lori, so there were none waiting for them after the visit to the thestral clearing.

Anneka tried to mask her disappointment, but Lori could feel that it bothered her not being able to share even the least part of the experience. For the first time since she’d known her, she felt the smallest hint of a wedge sliding between herself and her friend.

They decided to fetch a picnic from the kitchens and head down to the edge of the lake. The moment Lori appeared, one the house elves approached and bowed.

“What is miss wanting, miss?”

Between Anneka and herself, Lori was able to give a comprehensive list of all the things they would want.

“I is preparing it straight away miss. If you please, Mani is asking if he can be speaking with miss.”

“Of course.”

“I is fetching him.”

He scuttled off and a short while later the larger elf made his way over to them.

“Perhaps miss would follow,” he said. “We is having some difficulty with Winky.”

Lori did so with Anneka in tow. They found Winky lounging on a top shelf with a bottle of butterbeer in her hand. She still had on her Hogwarts tea towel dress, but it was grubby and stained.

“We is trying, miss. Mani is giving her instructions the same as the other elves, but Winky is not liking to be told.”

“Hello mistress,” Winky grinned down on them and reached out a finger. “Is mistress wanting to learn more about elf history?”

“Winky must not be telling these things,” Mani growled.

“Winky is not telling. Winky is showing.”

“I think I learned enough last time Winky. I came to see how you were. I’m so sorry to see you looking like this. What happened?”

“Winky is not liking to be told. Winky is a free elf and is not being told what to do. Winky is not liking it, so she is not doing it.”

“We is trying, miss,” Mani said. We is trying, but Winky is not wanting to try. We is sorry, miss.”

“It’s alright Mani. I’m sorry too.”

Their picnic chose that moment to arrive. Anneka took it and waited for whatever Lori still felt she had to do.

“We is keeping on trying, miss. You is wishing for this, so we is keeping on trying. We is wanting you to know though.”

“Thank you Mani. I’ll try and think of something too.”

She took Anneka’s hand and led her out of the kitchen. Her friend wanted to know what the whole thing had been about, and Lori was forced to limit her response to a half-truth. Anni sensed she was holding something back and the wedge between them pushed in just a little further.

The weather wasn’t great, being cold and grey, though mercifully not raining. Even so, the chill set in rapidly, driving them indoors before they — Lori in particular — had their fill of one another’s embrace.

They decided to plan out their revision and more or less had it sorted with a calendar hung on the wall displaying what they would study and when well before dinner.

An awkward silence descended on the two of them. With nothing to focus their minds, it felt like they hadn’t much to say. It was Lori who eventually broke it.

“Anni, are we okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s felt like you’ve been a bit distant all day.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you.”

“I don’t mean to be. It’s just… Look, can we take this somewhere there aren’t any wards?”

“Where would we go? I mean the common room’s busy, so’s the library and the Great Hall. The only place we’re guaranteed any privacy outside of this is outside the castle, and it’s too cold.”

“Anni, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Nor me you. Look, it’s not going to happen. We’ve had an off day and we’ll get over it.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“I do say so. Hey, I got something for you.” She reached into her trunk and pulled out a large parcel.

“What’s this?”

“I was going to save it for the day, but we need something to turn today around. Happy Birthday!”

“What? How did you…?”

“I asked Lysander. It’s Tuesday isn’t it?”

“Anni! I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, open it then. You might have figured it out be then.”

“But it’s not my birthday yet.”

“And by Tuesday we’ll be getting back into the grind of school work and homework. I mean why do they even call it homework when we never get to go home? Come on, open it. You’ll have other gifts on Tuesday.”

So Lori tore the paper off what turned out to be quite a posh wizard chess set.

“You can set the level of violence,” Anneka said, “so it’s not so brutal if you prefer. Apparently the top levels are seriously unpleasant, but you’ll have to wait till you’re older to unlock those. Do you fancy a game?”

It turned out to be the right thing to do. It didn’t settle Lori’s disquiet, but it did distract her from it. And the game brought them back together. At it’s lowest level, the pieces played tag and chased each other round the board, wandering off to sulk when then they were caught. Lori and Anneka laughed so hard they almost forgot how to play, and when Anneka managed to take Lori’s queen, something Lori set up just because she wanted to see the queen captured, it threw such a tantrum before storming off the board, the two of them couldn’t bring themselves back to the board for a full five minutes.

-oOo-

Monday came round and they were back to lessons and working. They made a pact to keep ahead of their homework and revision, and stuck with it for the whole first day. Tuesday breakfast saw both Lori and Lysander inundated by a constant stream of owls. Lye’s big present from their parents was a new broom. He’d been hoping to trial for a position on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and this would either help his chances or give him something to cover his disappointment. For Lori there was a note and a small package.

My Dearest Lori,

This doesn’t feel like much of a gift, but your mother and I are very much aware how difficult things must be for you right now, so we’re saving up most of your gift this year for Christmas in the hope and expectation that things will have improved by then. In the meantime, this is how we see you. This is how we will always see you.

Fondest love,

Mum and Dad

The package contained a locket, and in the locket was the image Lori had seen in the Mirror of Erised, smiling and waving. Beside it Luna and Rolf stood arm in arm, beaming out of their own picture.

“How did they…?”

“Your father requested it,” Professor McGonagall said, leaning over the table with a broad smile. “He asked to see the mirror at a time when his fondest desire was to see his daughter as she should be. He took a photograph of it, which no-one has done before, and surprisingly the photo developed to show what he had seen in the mirror. The Ministry has asked to borrow it to investigate further and see whether there might be some uses.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, magical maladies for instance. Say you have a patient who’s unable to communicate for some reason. Putting them in front of the mirror and photographing it might give you clues about what they’re thinking.”

“Are you going to let them have it?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a valuable artefact, and it’s been here at Hogwarts for a great many years.”

“Perhaps you might consider it in return for a favour.”

“And what favour would that be?”

“I was hoping to see the Bloodstone one more time.”

“And why would you want that?”

“Call it a Birthday Wish. I made a promise of sorts, and I’ll need to see the Bloodstone in order to keep that promise.”

“You are being highly mysterious today, Lori. I think we need to have a wee chat. Would you come to my office after your last lesson today please? You’re not in trouble, but I’d like to talk to more about this. There will be cake.”

“Alright.”

The day dragged by after that. In potions they practised making forgetfulness potion, with only Lori’s working out as expected and Anneka’s a close second. In herbology, the repotted mandrakes, which was painful on the ears and required the use of protective gear. In charms they worked on the fire-making charm in which Lori benefited from her twin link and managed it early on, spending the remainder of the lesson helping others. She hoped Lysander was getting the same benefit from her potions work. Lastly, in astronomy, they studied the movement of the sun through the year, focusing on the phases of the moon and their mystic effects.

With classes over, Lori followed Anneka back to the dorm where she picked up the silk scarf that contained the unicorn horn and stallions hairs. “Wish me luck,” she said to her friend, then pointing at the wizard chess board, “We’re playing on level two later.”

Up in McGonagall’s office she was asked to wait a while, which she did fidgeting nervously. Eventually she was invited into McGonagall’s inner sanctum where two pieces of chocolate cake awaited them.

“I did promise,” McGonagall said passing one plate across. “Now shall we eat first, or can you tell me what this is about between mouthfuls?”

“Perhaps you could tell me what’s going to happen to the Bloodstone first.”

“Well, that’s up to the Ministry to decide. As I understand it, they’ve been studying Ekrisdis’ notes.”

“Ekrisdis was mad. If they try to follow anything he says it’ll turn out badly, possibly for all of us.”

“What makes you say Ekrisdis was mad? A genius perhaps, evil definitely, but mad?”

“He appears in the journal of Randolph the Rash. Ekrisdis was the second person Randolph experimented on when he was trying to recreate the original beautification potion. The first one he used on a Muggle who ended up with a name like… what was it? Oh yes, Vlad the Impaler, who stuck the bodies of a thousand warriors he’d defeated on long spears and left them on the battlefield as a warning to his enemies. Randolph learned the hard way that when you get that potion wrong it has horrible effects. He said that Ekrisdis was a gentle, unambitious man before he took the potion, then he turned into the monster who built Azkaban.”

“The new alpha stallion from the unicorn herd approached me on Saturday. I’ve been meeting unicorns almost daily during the holidays and grooming them, but Saturday was different. He took me to the place where his predecessor fell and gave me this.” She unfolded the silk carefully so as not to dislodge the hairs and removed the horn.

“Lori, where did you get that?”

“It’s like I said, the new leader of the unicorn herd took me to the clearing where the Bloodstone was — did you know it was only a couple of hundred yards from the unicorns’ home clearing? He gave me the horn and told me to touch it to the Bloodstone. I said I would.”

“What do you think will happen when you do as you’ve promised?”

“I don’t really know, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they were trying to destroy it.”

“Are you aware that most powerful dark magic items possess a curse that is released when they are destroyed?”

“I think I’ve heard something like that, yes, but the unicorns have been around for a while too. Surely they know about that sort of thing.”

“Has it not occurred to you that perhaps they are asking you to do it so the curse falls on you?”

“I’m the reason their herd leader is dead. Perhaps I’m the one to take on this curse.”

“Lori, it may not feel like it now, but you have an awful lot more to lose than you already have. Are you really prepared to take on more?”

“Actually, what I’m prepared to do is trust the unicorns. They helped me stop the mist the first time and their leader chose to give up his life for mine. I believe they are noble creatures and yes, I am ready and willing to put my life or whatever on the line and trust that they wouldn’t ask me to do something that was wrong.

“I agree with them, or at least what I think they believe. The Bloodstone has to be destroyed, and if there’s a cost to be paid, then I’m prepared to pay it, because this has to be done.”

“That was very well said,” came a voice from the fireplace. Lori looked across to see Hermione Granger-Weasley’s head sitting in the embers. “For all that you’re very young still, I suspect we think very much alike, Lori. I’m inclined to agree with you over my advisers here at the ministry. Would you trust me to do what’s right with the horn?”

“I would, but I’m not sure I’d feel I’d fulfilled my promise unless it was actually me that did it. For all that I do trust you, I think this is something I have to see through myself.”

“Very well. Minerva, would you bring Lori to Merlin’s Gate, please? I’ll apparate in to collect her myself.”

“You’re absolutely sure about this Lori? No, don’t bother answering, I can see that you are. Alright Hermione, we’ll be with you shortly.”

They made their way down to the front of the school where the head of the Ministry of Magic stood waiting. She took Lori’s hand. “Hold tight,” she said. “I don’t much like this form of travel, but it is quick at least.”

It was a rougher ride than with her mum, but smoother than with Harry or Neville. It ended up with them in the alley next to the phone box that was the Ministry’s front entrance.

“I had the code changed,” Hermione said. “It’s been the same for too long and this is supposed to be a secure entrance.” Lori watched as she typed in seven-six-seven -two-three-seven-nine. “It’s not much better.” The lift began to move. “It spells out sorcery now instead of magic. I suppose it’ll do for the next couple of decades. I just hope no Muggle thinks to type that particular sequence of numbers into a broken telephone just to see what happens.”

Lori followed the minister down into the bowels of the Ministry, to the Department of Mysterious Artefacts. Following the maze was harder without the earring to follow, but eventually they stood in the same room with the same stone sitting in its box.

“You could give me the horn and watch while I do the deed,” Hermione offered, but Lori had already stepped forward. She held the horn like a dagger, pointed edge down and reached forward to touch the stone with its tip.

For a moment nothing happened, then the horn pulled itself out of Lori’s grip, jerking downwards and impaling the Bloodstone. Lori stepped back as an inky blackness began emerging from the stone. The horn flared a brilliant white, consuming the darkness. She stepped back again, outside of the range of the battle progressing in front of her. Light and dark fought silently for minutes with neither gaining the upper hand until, with a suddenly flare of both light and dark, it all ended. Inside the casket lay a fine, grey dust and nothing more.

“Would you allow me to show this to the unicorn who gave me the horn? It will show that I have done as he asked.”

“Where to?”

“Can you take me to the clearing where the Bloodstone was first used in the forbidden forest?”

“Yes, I’ve been there quite a few times, but we’ll have to be in the atrium at least before we can apparate. You take the box, and we’ll go.”

They retraced their steps and disapparated across to the clearing in the forest.

“I should probably go alone from here. They’ve showed me their home, but I’m not sure they’d appreciate me showing it to someone else.”

“Fair enough. I shall wait for you here, but don’t be too long. More than half an hour and I’ll come looking.”

Lori nodded and walked the short distance to the unicorn’s home. The stallion turned its head towards her the moment she arrived, then approached, trotting gently. She held up the box and opened it. The stallion stared at it for a moment, then lowered its horn to touch the dust, just briefly. It snorted and bowed. Lori responded with a low curtsey. Formalities ended, the stallion turned back to his herd and Lori turned back to where Hermione was waiting.

“All done,” she said, handing across the box. “I’d advise you destroy that book as well. I don’t know if it’ll tell you anything useful without the stone, but it won’t tell you anything good.”

“Again I’m inclined to agree with you, but for now, let’s get you back where you belong.” They might have preferred to walk rather than disapparate, but the middle of the forbidden forest was no place for even such an experienced witch as Hermione to wander about. The magic took them back to the front door where McGonagall was still waiting.

“You waited,” Hermione said.

“I had a feeling it wouldn’t take long. Either you’d succeed or you’d be back with some bad news. I’m glad to see that it was the former.”

“Well, Happy Birthday Lori, and do get in touch sometime. I’d love to have a conversation with you about house elves.” With that she was gone leaving McGonagall to guide her young charge back into the castle.

-oOo-

“So that’s it now?” Anneka asked, staring at the chess board. “No more Bloodstone?” There was a hint of peevishness about her regarding Lori’s latest adventure.

“No more Bloodstone. The unicorn horn destroyed it and seemed to negate any curse in it.”

“Good, ‘cos you’ve had me worried.” She waved her wand and advanced a pawn.

“Worried?” Lori had been considering her options, but hadn’t expected the pawn move. She leaned forward to study the board.

“First you charge off into the forest on your own to stop the mist, although to be honest that was a good thing for all the lives you saved.

“But then you chase of to London to steal the stone and give it back to the bad guys…”

“Because my parents had been kidnapped.” Anneka had left a knight unguarded and in the sights of a bishop, but was there a down side to moving the bishop?

“Then you chase after the kidnappers and things get dangerous again.”

“I couldn’t let them have the Bloodstone any more than I could trust them to let my parents go.” She waved her wand to direct the bishop and watched it carefully. “Flipendo,” she said on observing the movement.

“Spongefy,” Anneka responded. Her knight made the appropriate movement with its wand, even as it flew backwards. It landed on a square where, instead of shattering into pieces as previous pieced had, it bounced and landed unharmed before leaving the field of battle.

Level two of the game, they’d discovered, had all the pieces taking out tiny wands and casting spells at each other. It hadn’t been anywhere near as much fun until Anneka had recognised a wand movement.

“I know that spell,” she’d said. “It’s diffindo.”

The moment she’d said it, the piece had repeated the movement with a flourish and the piece it had been attacking split diagonally in two, the top half sliding slowly off before the bits of the defeated piece dragged themselves off to the side.

Anneka had taken the next piece too, calling out ‘lumos’ the moment she’d recognised the wand movement. The unfortunate pawn had started to blister and crack under the light, so on a whim, Lori had called out ‘nox’, saving the pawn from destruction if not disgrace.

They’d experimented after that. There were obvious matches: lumos and nox, alohomora — which opened a hidden door in a piece, allowing gears and springs to fly out — was countered by coloportus, diffindo by reparo and flipendo by spongify. It hadn’t come up yet, but they guessed there had to be a link between incendio and wingardium leviosa. For now they were content to add in the spells as they saw them coming.

“Lastly,” Anneka completed her complaint, “You go off trying to destroy a cursed object. It’s like you have a death wish or something.”

“Not a death wish, no, but you remember the head of the unicorn herd, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Ani was taking her time over her next move.

“He gave his life to save mine, then his successor asked me to take his horn and touch it to the stone. What would you have done?”

Annika waved her wand bringing her other knight forward to the place vacated by her pawn and forking Lori’s bishop and a rook.

“I suppose.”

“It’s all done now, though. The Order of Purity are all behind bars, the Bloodstone is destroyed and that book they were using is useless without it.”

“Good, ‘cos I don’t want to lose you.”

“Not going anywhere.” Lori moved her rook to cover the bishop. “So, tell me what you found out over the hols.”

“Not as much as I’d hoped. I left my friend from the library doing the genealogy research. You remember I said he should be able to get somewhere now we have names, dates and locations?”

Again Lori had a sense that her friend was holding something back. “Why do we need Arabella’s family tree?”

“You remember that bit at the end of the journal? All the bits that started with, ‘my vow compels me.’ There was that one about a nonsense rhyme being sung to children. I’m hoping if we know who their children were, we may find a clue to that.” Anneka moved her knight without really thinking.

“Seems a bit far fetched to me,” Lori said, bringing her queen forward. “And that’s ch… Oh, wingardium leviosa. Check.” Anneka’s king floated a short way off the board.

“Shall we see what check mate looks like?”

“We could, or we could wait until one of us wins.”

“I can’t really concentrate tonight. Let’s end this for now.” She moved her king out of check and onto a square that left Lori open to bring in her rook.

“Check mate. Incendio. Oh! That’s funny!”

The king started running around the board with flames coming from his rear end. Every time he passed one of the remaining pieces on his side, they tried to blow it out but only made the flames bigger. Eventually he ran off the board and found some relief.

“Level three tomorrow, and I promise you a better game. Right now I’m ready for bed.”

Which gave her an excuse not to answer any more of Lori’s questions.

-oOo-

Term went by slowly. There wasn’t much to look forward to except the prospect of the end of year exams being over in June. Lori continued to grow, and by continuing to use the spell professor McGonagall had taught her, her body continued to even out. Every day she looked in the mirror to find her arms and legs more evenly proportioned in diameter as well as length, and her face, though decidedly asymmetrical, no longer looked like a mixture of two people. She didn’t look much like her brother any more, especially since her eyes were no longer the same colour, but she looked good enough that she no longer felt the need to hide part of her face.

That and the cloak were all that was left to remind Lori of Raphael Maledicta. A couple of weeks into the new term, she had been required to travel to London to give evidence in the trial against the Order of Purity, an ordeal that had lasted most of a week. When directed to give evidence against her former school mate, she had asked for a closed session with a minimum number of people present, which turned out to be the full Wizengamot, the councils for defence and prosecution and one stenographer, in addition to Lori and Raphael.

She’d told the court about the locked wardrobe in Raphael’s bedroom and its contents. Raph had turned beetroot red at the revelation, but Lori had pressed on, describing what she had said and done, and how he had responded. When she tried to speculate about what she thought it meant, the prosecutor had objected, at which point Lori had responded that she knew far better than most how wearing a dress might affect a boy. She was able to press on long enough to suggest that the court might look into how years of being forced to do something he found so utterly humiliating might have affected him before being silenced.

There were more questions, mainly relating to the adult members of the Order. She was able to identify Pansy Parkinson easily enough, and could even pick out Septima’s cackle from a dozen others. She spoken at length about what she had overheard Augustus saying on the various occasions she’d been in his presence, and then again with respect to her encounters with Septima, the botched attempt to do away with her disguise, the attempted use of the killing curse, for what other spell began with the word ‘avada’?

She was glad when it was all over and headed back to Hogwarts where she found Anneka had redesigned their revision timetable so they could work together to catch Lori up. It didn’t leave much room for personal time, but she was grateful to her friend for her thoughtfulness and put in all the extra hours needed without complaint.

Some days later, Professor Sprout showed her an article in the Daily Prophet. A photograph of Raphael under a hooded cloak being rushed through a crowd of reporters and a short report stating that the court had found him to be acting under the coercion of his parents, particularly his mother, and as such had released him on probation. He had been adopted by an uncle on his mother’s side, at least until the outcome of the trial was known, and had been offered a place at Durmstrang.

It was a good result, Lori thought. She was glad for Raphael, except Durmstrang was hardly likely to help him with his pure blood supremacy ideas. She didn’t expect him to write and wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t. At least he was gone.

The exams themselves proved to be something of an anti-climax. Ani and Lori sailed through each and every exam, until the last.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen,” Professor Mugglewump said from the front of the class. “You have been each been provided with a selection of ingredients from which you should almost be able to to make a potion you have learned this year. Do not attempt to copy what your neighbours are doing as their ingredients and the potion they will be preparing will be different from yours. One ingredient will be missing. It is up to you to identify it and collect it from the stores. You will also have some additional ingredient with instructions on what to do with them. They are to be added to your potion in the manner described.

“This examination is intended to test your memory, your ability perform tasks which by now should be familiar, and your capacity for following new instructions. If brewed correctly, none of these potions will have any adverse effects on you. Should you feel the mark I award at the end of the test is too low, you may choose to drink your potion, your final mark then being decided on the effect it has on you.

“You have one hour. You may begin.”

Lori looked through the ingredients on her table. A sprig of small yellow flowers, a bowl containing what looked like insect wings, a tiny vial of transparent liquid and a rose sitting in a crystal vase. In addition there was a foot long green branch, a few ears of wheat and a plate containing a rolled piece of bark the length of her little finger, three small, black seeds and a piece of fibrous root the size of her thumb nail.

So, she had everything she needed to make a beautification potion except for… It was exam nerves, she knew. This should be so easy. “Let it go.” She heard her mother’s voice all over again and let her mind wander. Unicorn hair! Well she didn’t need Mugglewump’s supplies for that. She reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a silk scarf. It was the same one in which she’d carried the unicorn horn, in which she had some of the new herd leader’s main and tail hairs.

She read through the instructions for what to do with the new ingredients. “Cut a full hand’s measure of cane of sugar and leave it to steep in a bowl of steaming water for a half hour. Take three black peppercorns, a finger’s length of cinnamon and piece of ginger root no larger than the nail of your thumb and grind them together. Grind separately seven ears of wheat retrieved from the pattern of a mooncalf’s dance. Add to your potion the solution from the cane of sugar, the ground spices and the ground corn and complete your potion in the usual manner.”

Good thing she’d read through first. Her cauldron had already been prepared with the base solution, so she set it to heating and placed a kettle of water to one side of the flame. While the water heated, she counted out twelve of the insect like wings. Close examination confirmed them to be fairy’s wings, after which it was a moment’s work to crush them. The small vial had to contain dew. The yellow flower looked very much like the lady’s mantle she’d used on previous occasions. She set it to one side since it would be best added immediately after being chopped. She placed as much hair as constituted what she felt was a lock to one side and turned to the new ingredients.

A full hand’s measure meant spreading her hand as wide as it would go. It was tough to cut through, but she allowed herself a little taste of the cut edge from the part she was discarding, and it was indeed sweet. The kettle had boiled so she filled a handy bowl and immersed the sugar cane in it, turning a half hour glass as she did so. Pestle and mortar soon saw the peppercorns, cinnamon and ginger ground to as best she could manage, then in a separate mortar she counted out seven ears from the pile of wheat and ground it to a fine flour.

With the glass two thirds emptied and the cauldron simmering, she started adding ingredients. Ground fairy wings and stir slowly, morning dew and stir vigorously over the heat, seven petals from the rose — she chose the best — also added, then the lady’s mantle chopped and added. Lastly the unicorn hair and another vigorous stir.

She checked the glass just as the last of the sands fell through. She took the bowl of sugar cane and carefully added the water from it to the potion, keeping the cane back. Then the spices and the wheat — with these she dipped the mortar into the cauldron to wash the ingredients out thoroughly. Potion making was all about precision and could be unforgiving of even the slightest variation. She heated the mix one last time and waved her wand over it. The liquid turned a satisfying golden colour.

She took a flask and filled it, placing it on her desk with ten minutes to spare. Mugglewump wandered over to her and gave the flask a thorough examination. “Acceptable, I suppose.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Unless you believe otherwise?”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink potions like this any more,” she replied trying to keep her frustration from showing. “I thought they were likely to cause more harm than good.”

“Well, as I said at the beginning of the exam, none of these potions is much like the ones you’ve been preparing. You have my permission to drink this one, as long as you thing it’s good enough.”

Lori took the flask back and examined it. She couldn’t fault its appearance or its slightly floral, slightly tangy scent. Defiance overrode caution. She put the flask to her lips and drank it all down.

The world expanded around her and her clothes loosened. She looked up at Mugglewump from about a foot lower usual. Her hands had disappeared into her sleeves and she felt different in so many ways.

“What…?” she asked.

A ghost of a smile played about Mugglewump’s face as he leaned in close to examine her face. He nodded and said, “Outstanding then,” before moving on to the next student.

Lori looked around the room until he found Anneka. Her face was split with a delighted smile and she could barely stand still for excitement. Mugglewump made his way over to her and raised her flask of silvery, opalescent liquid up to give it a closer look.

“Acceptable,” he said, returning the flask to the desk.

Anneka’s smile slipped a little. “I don’t care,” she lied. “I’m not about to drink a forgetfulness potion now. I want to remember this moment forever.”

“Do I need to remind everybody?” the professor’s voice rose. “These potions are not the same as the ones you have been practising this year. This is not only an examination but also a lesson, to demonstrate that deviating from a set of ingredients even a small amount can result in dramatic changes to a potion’s effects. Mostly they are overwhelmingly bad, but on rare occasions,” he turned to look at Lori, “they can be good. If you have brewed this potion correctly, miss Peasbottom, you need have no fear of memory loss.”

Anneka also felt defiant enough to drink down the potion. From her expression it wasn’t quite as palatable as Lori’s had been.

Mugglewump nodded absent-mindedly. “Another outstanding, I suppose.” He moved on. “miss Mulrose. Poor, and I’m being generous. May I suggest you don’t try yours. miss Skunk, the same on both counts.”

He carried on around the room, allowing some students to try theirs and suggesting other not. Maddy Pentwhistle refused to accept that her variation of boil-cure potion was, as Mugglewump insisted, dreadful, so drank it down, sprouting feathers all over her body as a result and receiving a modified grade of poor, since the feathers had at least been brightly coloured.

At long last the seemingly interminable process of grading the exam reached its end and the students were given their liberty. Anneka ran over to Lori and caught her up in an exuberant hug. “It worked!” she said. “It worked!” Tears were streaming down her face. “Oh, Lori, I hoped it would, but I couldn’t be sure, I couldn’t get your hopes up in case I was wrong.”

“What are you going on about? What’s happened to me?”

Anneka let go of her friend and rummaged in the depths of her bag, resurfacing a moment later with a compact. She opened it and turned the mirror to Lori. The image was magnified and distorted somewhat, but it belonged to the young girl Lori had seen in the Mirror of Erised. She tried moving at around to get a clearer view until she was interrupted by the sound of something heavy being placed on the table beside her.

“Perhaps this will serve you better,” Mugglewump said.

Lori picked up the hand mirror, thanking the professor as she did so and took a long, hungry look at the face she had hoped to own all year. She touched her cheeks and watched her image do the same. It felt real, but…

“How?”

“Your friend has the details,” Mugglewump said. “Perhaps you’d like to discuss them elsewhere. I have some clearing up to supervise.” With the exception of Maddy Pentwhistle, who had been led off to the infirmary, anyone who’d been awarded poor or lower had been instructed to remain behind and clear up the aftermath of the examination.

“You need to thank Professor Mugglewump though, Lori. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without him.”

“Sir?” Lori turned towards the potions professor.

“Consider it a debt settled, miss Scamander. Gwendolyn Whisp is my niece. I am told she would have died had it not been for your intervention in the dormitory when you visited your friend, and your subsequent actions in the forest.”

“Yes sir. Well, thank you all the same.”

Mugglewump gave her the first genuine smile she’d seen on his face. “You’re welcome. And congratulations to you both on your potion making skills. Do bear in mind that you will only maintain those grades if you continue to work as hard as you have this term.”

“Yes sir.” Lori took her friend’s hand and dragged her out of the dungeon and back to their dormitory. They were free of exams and study at last and the capricious June weather had turned in their favour. Back in the dorm, Lori stepped into the bathroom and stripped out of her oversized uniform. Whatever charm her clothes had on them to alter their size, they weren’t able to do so while she was wearing them.

She gave herself a quick once over. Her body shape was decidedly different, resembling that of a girl far more than a boy. She had budding breasts which itched and the part of her between her legs that she didn’t want had shrunk to be almost unnoticeable. She slipped on a new set of underwear and carried her things back out into their room.

“Oh… my… days!” Anneka exclaimed. “You look gorgeous. Are you…?”

“Nearly but not quite,” Lori said admiring her new figure in the mirror. This called for something to show off a little skin. She picked off a summer dress she been longing to try since finding it on the rack. She had worn it briefly when she and Anneka had gone through everything on that first day, but between the wintry weather and her altered form, she hadn’t dared even look at it until now. Spaghetti straps and a short, mid-thigh skirt hid very little, but for the first time Lori felt she had very little to hide.

She turned to her friend. “Right. Now you’re going to tell me everything.”

Anneka licked her lips and gazed longingly at Lori’s wardrobe.

“Fine! Pick something, then tell me.”

Anneka rummaged through the selection until she found another summer dress that was almost as revealing. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time,” she said, stripping off her own uniform and climbing into the dress. “Here,” she passed across Randolph’s journal. “Open the book and look in the spine.”

Lori was stunned. Why hadn’t she thought of that? ‘I find I have not sufficient spine to reveal any more, and yet perhaps that which may not be found within may yet exist without.’ There was a small slip of parchment stuck in there which she managed to extract. The words on it were very faint and reversed. She held the paper up to the mirror and read.

The shells of three snails, gathered from a thrush’s anvil and ground fine.
Three black pepper corns, a finger’s length of cinnamon and a piece of ginger root no larger than your thumb.
Cuttings of heather, gorse and thistle all gathered under the dark of the Moon.
Three Tiger moth caterpillars.
The syrup formed when one full hand span of sugar’s cane be steeped in steaming water for a full half hour.
Seven ears of barley or wheat that be flattened into a pattern by the dance of a mooncalf during the full Moon.

“What is this?”

“Mugglewump figured that out. Back in Randolph’s day they used to sprinkle a substance called pounce — a fine powder made from ground cuttlefish — over their writing to blot up any excess. If they closed a book on a freshly treated page, some of the pounce would transfer to the opposite page. It looks like someone sprinkle some ash on it to make it stand out.”

“That which has not been written but might still be read. These are the missing ingredients?”

“Yep, and ‘that which has been hidden has not been shown, though it may still be found’ we think refers to that bit of parchment.”

“So how did you figure out which ingredients went with which potion?”

“That was thanks to my friend back home. He came through with Arabella’s family tree and it turns out one of her descendants was a man named Robert Southey.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t really know either, but I Googled it.”

“Whatled it?”

“Oh right, non-Muggle, I keep forgetting. How to explain the Internet to a non-Muggle? Actually, can I leave it for another time? Google is a part of the Internet that allows you to search through an amazing amount of information. Imagine having a library with thousands of times as many books as we have here and a really expert librarian who’s read all of them. Google’s a bit like that. Ask a question about just about anything and it’ll give you an answer.

“Robert Southey was an English poet who lived about two hundred years ago. He’s supposed to have written a poem that goes like this:

“What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips & snails & puppy dogs tails
And such are little boys made of.

“What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar & spice & all things nice
And such are little girls made of.”

“Well that makes some sense. I can see where most things fit, but what are snips? And where are the puppy dog’s tails and the all things nice from Randolph’s list?”

“You have Mugglewump to thank for those pieces of the puzzle too. It seems being a potion master means reading a lot of old parchments, which means you have to understand how the language has changed over time too.

“Snips are easy, they’re cuttings, in this case of heather, gorse and thistle…”

“The rhyme doesn’t mention anything about gathering them at the dark of the Moon.”

“The rhyme’s only meant to help you sort which of the ingredient is meant for which potion. As long as it points you to the right thing.”

“So, puppy dogs’ tails?”

“Apparently an eighteenth century colloquialism from the Bristol area. Tiger moth caterpillars are kind of long, thin and hairy and used to be called pups’ tails.”

“That makes sense, so, now convince me that grain from a crop circle is ‘all things nice.’”

“Back in the thirteenth century, nice meant silly or foolish, then in the fourteenth century it changed to dainty or delicate, then finally in the seventeen hundreds it changed yet again to agreeable or delightful. There’s definitely a silly element to the Mooncalf dance, and the crop circles they form are both delicate and delightful. All things nice — all definitions of nice, even the one that wouldn’t have been around when Arabella presumably sung the rhyme to her children.”

“That seems a bit of a stretch.”

“Mugglewump didn’t think so. He made up batches of both potions and did all sorts of different tests on them. Don’t ask, he didn’t tell me anything other than he was one hundred percent sure this was the right one for you, only I saw the batch he made up and yours was tons better.”

“Probably the quality of unicorn hair. So what does this mean? How long am I going to be like this?”

“That’s a very good question. Oh my!” McGonagall chose that moment to appear in their doorway, but rather undermined the effect with her response to Lori’s appearance.

“Professor!” Lori smiled and twirled. “What do you think.”

“I think you’ll be better off showing a little less skin if you don’t want the attention of every boy in school.” She couldn’t keep a straight face though and broke into a genuine smile. “I can see why you were so keen for this to work out.

“To answer your question as best I may, we do know from Randolph’s journal, the the different potions were meant to be drunk by the individuals of the correct gender, meaning the correct physical gender, since he experienced the same adverse reaction as his king. We know that the potion is longer lasting when drunk by the opposite sex, and the flask you brewed in your exam seems to be of a similar size to that used by the Laramys, so at the very least I should say you’ll be like this for the coming year.”

“A whole year?”

“Indeed, and possibly longer. Would I be correct in assuming that the change is not quite complete? That it has affected you down there, but not as much as you would like?”

Lori dipped her head and blushed a little.

“That’s to be expected, although we shall see how things progress from here.”

“What do you mean, professor?”

“We’re dealing with a complex combination of powerful magic, Lori. This potion you’ve taken is far more potent than anything we’re used to, so there’s no way of knowing what will happen. We only have Randolph’s writings to give us any clues as to the nature of the effect of misuse, although it does seem from his later writings that he never quite completed his own transformation. Or perhaps I should say she and her since the person who wrote that book was always more Arabella than Randolph.

“Combine that with the unusual change that we’ve noticed in you as a result of your casting Patronus Maxima, which I’ll be the first to admit I don’t fully understand, there is a high likelihood of additional complications.”

“What sort of complications?”

“We’ve noticed that this additional channel within you reacts to your subconscious. It first extended the effects of the spell you used to disguise yourself as Raphael Maledicta, though it did so in a way that made it a physical change rather than simply an illusory one. It maintained some parts of that spell through Septima’s attempt to dispel it and through the past months, despite your evident desires to see it undone, which suggests that the channel needs to direct a flow of magic constantly. While you were under the influences of the less effective modern version of the potion, it made some alterations, though it seemed only those that matched with your deeply felt desires…”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“There were a few changes it maintained after the effects of the potion wore off, Lori, but none that altered you to look more, er, masculine I think we should say.

“Now that you have this potion working for you, and the changes are very much to your liking, it wouldn’t surprise me if your extra magical channel will work towards making these changes permanent, and, depending on how much you really want it, complete.”

“Really?”

“I’m promising nothing. We shan’t know anything for certain until this time next year at least, and then, if the final outcome isn’t as you’d wish it, you at least know how to brew more of the potion.” She turned her eyes towards Anneka, looking deep into her. “You’ve worked really hard to make this happen, miss Peasbottom, and I’m proud of you for the selfless support you have given, very much in the tradition of your house. Enjoy the fruits of your success, because you’ve earned them, but be honest about your feelings. It’ll save heartache in the long run.”

Anneka nodded and McGonagall turned and left.

“What was that about?” Lori asked.

“Can we go somewhere? I don’t want to do this here, and I could do with a little bit of a walk to clear my head.”

They headed out of the Hufflepuff dormitories and down to the boat house. The last time Lori had been down there was when she’d been heading into the mist. She barely recognised the place as they walked along the lakeside in the early summer sunshine. There was enough of a breeze to keep them cool and cover the surface of the lake with tiny ripples. At one point a giant tentacle emerged, glided across across the surface and submerged back under the water.

They walked until they’d crossed the gorge by the covered bridge and climbed up to where their two families had shared breakfast. All the while Anneka seemed lost in her thoughts. Lori left her to them, trusting her friend to talk when she was ready. The sat on the grass and Lori reached for a hand, only to be brushed off.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” Anneka said. “I’m surprised McGonagall noticed it so soon, even before I knew it was there.”

Lori felt a chill pass through her, despite the warmth of the sunshine. She kept her peace and waited.

“I’ve loved you since the moment we met, I hope you know that. I’ve loved the way you always put others first. I loved that you were a boy who wanted to be a girl. It made it so much easier to like you with you being into the same sorts of things as me, and I thought you looked really cute in a dress. You still do, of course, but it’s like something’s changed.”

Lori continued to wait, feeling the chill growing inside.

“It’s like… It’s like you’ve got what you want, and that’s great, that’s amazing. I wouldn’t have it any other way, because all I’ve wanted to do since I met you is help you become who you want to be. It’s just…”

“I’m too much of a girl now?” Lori tried.

“I’m sorry,” Anneka said. “I didn’t expect this. You’re the same person you were when we woke up this morning, but somehow you’re not. You know, I wish I could be someone who wants you in that way, but.”

“You seemed so happy when the potion worked.”

“I was. It’s like I say, I know how much you’ve wanted this, and I’ve wanted it for you just as much. It was so cool taking you through all the things I’ve figured out — I’m really sorry for keeping them from you by the way. I really didn’t want to get your hopes up until I was sure.”

“No, I get that. It was kind of hard though. I mean it felt like you were drifting away from me at a time when I really needed you.”

“Maybe I was. Maybe somewhere deep down I realised what it would mean if this all worked. Maybe my subconscious was working on me too. You’re not mad are you?”

“I could never be mad with you, Anni. This was why we held off on becoming an item, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but there was what I told you in the infirmary after the thing in the mist. I mean it’s me that’s giving mixed messages.”

“Those were unusual circumstances, don’t you think? I’d nearly lost you, you’d nearly lost me, we were both kind of acting on impulse. Besides, I was still a work in progress then.”

“Is that what you think of me? That I’m a sucker for damaged goods?”

“That’s not what I said, Anni, and it’s definitely not what I meant. Sure, I think part of why you were attracted to me was because I was messed up and trying to figure out how to become me, but that was more because you could see I was trying than because I was messed up. You’ve helped me get to this, even though part of you had a sense it would get in the way of the feelings we have for each other, and to me that’s proof of how much you love me. You did what was right for me no matter what it was likely to cost you. It makes us kind of a bit alike, you know?”

“Well don’t you dare try to undo this.” Tears ran down Anneka’s cheeks.

“I’m not sure I’d know where to start.” Lori felt her eyes prickling as well. “I mean, not that I would even if I could. It’s too precious a gift, and you don’t say thank you for someone’s sacrifice by rejecting what they give you.”

“So how do we go on from here?”

“I don’t intend to lose my best friend over something like this.”

“It’s going to seem weird sharing a bedroom though. I mean so many memories from this year.”

“We’ll figure it out. Do you want a bit of space?”

“I want my best friend.”

“Me too.” Lori lay down and placed her head in Anneka’s lap. “This is just a thing friends do, right?”

Anneka laughed through her tears and stroked her friend’s hair. After all, that was also something friends did, wasn’t it?

Chapter 18 – Epilogue by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021

And here’s the last chapter. Whether or not I write another with Lori, I haven’t decided. As I may already have mentioned, I’ve found it really hard writing in someone else’s world. Besides, I want to get some of my own stuff out there. I have a few of my old stories up on Amazon: Lifeswap Tales of All Hallows Eve With one other, “Flip”, due to go up later this week. Once I’ve worked my way through the intricacies, I’ll make them available as print copies too. I also have an all-new story with the working title of “Glitch” or maybe “Fzzzt” which will be going up on Amazon sometime hopefully before Christmas. In the meantime, thanks to those of you who’ve stayed with me to this point. I hope you’ve enjoyed the story, and please remember to tip your writer (by which I mean comments or private messages. This is a derivative work and is posted free for your pleasure.)

-oOo-
Summer had come and gone. Lori could hardly think where the time had disappeared.

The last weeks of the summer term had been so relaxed. A lot of the school played Quidditch, which didn’t interest her much, but since her brother had succeeded in try outs for the Ravenclaw team and was due to join as a chaser in the new year, she’d resigned herself to going along to support him, and decided she ought to start early. She surprised herself with how much she’d enjoyed the game and drew a few odd looks from Ravenclaw fans wondering why this Hufflepuff girl none of them recognised was cheering for their team.

They’d been allowed to choose a research topic to investigate in those last weeks, and Lori had decided to dig deeper into the history of house elves. Anneka had opted to write up all she’d learned about Randolph the Rash, which might have been a fun thing to share, except Anneka had done most of the work. All Lori had done was find the manuscript then read it first. Anni had deciphered the clues, she had done all the extra research with her Muggle friend to discover Randolph’s descendants and the all-important poem. It was Anni’s success, not hers, and sharing the project would have widened the growing gap between them rather than narrowed it.

They’d continued talking whenever they had a free moment, sharing their respective progress, but they were both aware that something had changed. Lori desperately wanted to do something about it, but there was nothing to be done, so they continued on their separated paths, more or less agreeing to give each other space until they found a new balance.

Lori contacted the ministry and arranged a meeting with the new Minister of Magic. Hermione had apparated to the school and taken Lori to Hogsmeade, a rare and unusual treat for any first year, where they’d chatted over tea and cakes in Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop. Hermione told Lori all about S.P.E.W. and her attempts at improving the lot of the school house elves. She spoke of Dobby, his peculiarities, his love of freedom, his attempts to persuade the other house elves to try it. She spoke of his loyalty and bravery and his ultimate sacrifice.

She asked of Lori’s own interests, so Lori told her of her own encounter with Winky in the kitchens, without going into any details of the visions the elf had shown her. She didn’t need to say much in any case because Hermione took over once she realised it was the same Winky who had worked for the Crouch family and gave Lori a lot of additional background on the derelict creature.

By the last week of term, she’d read everything she could find in the library relating to house elves and she’d written a lot, based largely on what she’d learned from Hermione and what she already knew from her encounters with the elves in the kitchens. When she was done, she headed there with a long roll of parchment in her hand and if not a plan then at least a purpose.

Mani caught sight of her as she entered and walked across to intercept her.

“Er, I’m not sure if you recognise me,” she said, “I’m…”

“You are miss who is wanting to help Winky and Cringe.”

“I’d like to speak with her if I may, but first I have something to ask you.”

“What is Miss wishing of Mani?”

“I’ve written a more in-depth report on the history of house elves. I’m not sure how the agreement works between us, if I’m capable of writing something that’s too revealing, but I want to keep my part of the agreement, so would you read through this and let me know if it contains anything that might concern you?”

“Mani will do this. Winky is over there,” he waved a hand in the general direction of some shelves.

Lori, following his direction, found Winky sitting on a high shelf, her Hogwarts tea towel dress filthy and stained and a bottle of butterbeer in her hand.

“Little Miss,” Winky called. “You was mistress who tried to help Winky and now you is Little Miss. It is good to be seeing you looking more like your true self.”

“Hello Winky,” Lori replied. “It’s good to see you.”

“Is Miss come back for more tales of elvish past?”

“Perhaps another time. I actually came to talk to you. Is there somewhere private we could talk?”

Winky snapped her fingers and Lori found herself sitting on the high shelf next to the diminutive creature. It wasn’t as precarious as it might once have been now that she was so much smaller and lighter, but it wasn’t pleasant, especially given the way Winky smelt.

“Well, I suppose this works. Winky, will you tell me how I can help you?”

“Winky doesn’t need any help. Winky is a free elf, and free elves helps thereselves.”

“But you’re not happy.”

“Master is freeing Winky. Winky isn’t wanting to be a free elf, but master isn’t wanting Winky back, so he is giving Winky clothes, and Winky isn’t being happy since.”

“You seemed happy when I gave you that dress.”

“Winy was so happy. Winky though she would become a Hogwarts elf. Winky tried to do what Little Miss asked her to do, but Mani is telling her, ‘Do this’ and ‘Do that’ and Winky is wanting to know why. Mani is not liking to be questioned and he is huffing and saying, “I is not having time to explain. You is just doing what I is saying.’”

“But isn’t that what being a Hogwarts elf means? Mani is in charge. He is told what needs to be done and he passes the instructions to all the elves under his charge.”

“This is working for normal elves. They is having to obey orders and they is knowing that orders from Mani is orders from the teachers. Winky is a free elf. She is not having to do what she is told, so she is wanting to know why.”

“Can’t you just accept having the school as a new master?”

“How is Winky getting a new master? If Winky is free, how is she becoming a servant again?”

One of the school house elves walked past beneath them, recognisable by his tea towel, which was clean, if a little threadbare. “Excuse me,” Lori called out, causing the elf to look up. “Would I be correct in assuming you are in service to the school?”

“Little Miss is correct,” the elf replied.

“Have you always been in service to the school?”

The elf looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Little Miss is better talking to Mani. Mildew is fetching him, Little Miss. Mildew is bringing him here.” He scurried off.

“Mildew?”

“Mildew is liking his name. It is being given by Helga Hufflepuff herself.”

“Really? He’s been here that long?”

Winky laughed immoderately. “Little Miss is funny. House elves is not living so long. Two hundred years is all.”

“Okay, so how does Mildew have a name given by someone who lived and died a thousand years ago?”

“School house elves is proud to be here. They is passing their names to their children and grandchildren.”

“Doesn’t that get confusing if you have more than one house elf with the same name.”

Winky roared with laughter again. “Little Miss is very funny, but she is not understanding. When house elves is dying, their names is being kept so that when other house elves is being born, they is being give a name from before. Not all house elves is having a name from before, so them who has is being proud to have it.”

“Is, er Mani a name from before?”

Again, Winky laughed long enough to choke. “The names from before which is being given by Helga Hufflepuff. They is all names of natural things.”

“Little Miss?” Mani stood at the foot of the shelf, the parchment still held in his hand.

“Hello Mani. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It is no trouble, Little Miss. How is Mani being able to help you?”

“Er, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but I was wondering if you could tell me how house elves come to be in the service of the school. I understand a lot of you are descended from the first elves that were brought here by Helga Hufflepuff.”

“You is correct, Little Miss. But there is sometimes other elves who is coming here. Like Winky, like Cringe.”

“Dobby too, I understand.”

“Yes, Dobby too.” Mani didn’t seem too happy at the mention of that particular name. “Dobby is being a free elf and working for wages!” He spat the last word as though it were the worst of profanities. “Winky is being a free elf, but even she is not doing this.”

“Cringe isn’t a free elf. He served the Maledicta family, but now that Augustus and Septima are probably going to prison, he doesn’t have a place anymore, is that right?”

“Not right,” Mani said. “Raphael is still family and still free, so Cringe is returning to the family home to await Master Raphael’s return.”

“But if Raphael had gone to prison too?”

“Cringe would have no master to serve. Cringe would be offered to transfer to service in the school. This is happening sometimes.”

“But for elves like Winky who were given their freedom against their will, what’s to stop them from committing to the service of a new master?”

“Elves who is made free is not able to become servants again. This is in the magic.”

“Perhaps a free elf might act as though she were a servant?”

“She would be free.”

“And why couldn’t she use her free choice to choose to serve?”

“You is speaking of Winky,” Winky said.

“I am. I know it wouldn’t be the same as serving your old master, but it would be serving a master. And if you were doing it because you chose to rather than because magic made you do it, perhaps that would be as good, or maybe even better.”

“Winky is always having a choice whether or not to do what she is told,” Winky said glumly.

“So, make an agreement with yourself, that you will always do what you are told by Mani here.”

“Winky is already trying this. It isn’t working.”

“So, the reason you spend your days sitting on a shelf drinking butterbeer is because…”

“It is in the magic,” Mani said again. “A free elf is not having to do what she is told by anyone. She is recognising that an elf in service, such as Mani, is doing what he is told, and so when Mani is telling Winky to do a job, she is feeling that it is a telling that is having no power.”

“Winky is not liking to be told what to do, especially by an elf who is a servant,” Winky confirmed.

“But you were excited about becoming a Hogwarts elf. And Dobby made it work.”

“He is being asked by Professor Dumbledore himself. Dobby is thinking it is a great honour.”

“Dobby is still not doing everything he is told,” Mani growled.

“Okay, give me a few minutes.” She looked down at the floor quite a long way below her. “Er, perhaps someone wouldn’t mind helping me down?”

A snap of fingers brought her down beside Mani.

“Thank you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Where is Little Miss going?”

“To find someone who I hope can help.”

She ran off towards the Hufflepuff entrance. Professor Sprout was sitting near to the fireplace as usual.

“Professor, I wonder if I could ask a favour.”

“What is it Lori?”

“It’s the house elves. Well one really. You know Winky?”

“Yes, poor thing. She has been miserable since before she came here.”

“I know. I have an idea which might help.”

“Do tell.”

So Lori did.

-oOo-

It wasn’t long after that Lori returned to the kitchens with her head of house close behind. The professor turned to the shelf which was Winky’s usual haunt.

“Winky, would you come down here for a minute please?” Professor Sprout asked.

Somewhat surprisingly, since she had a reputation of never doing anything for anyone, Winky complied.

“Winky, I know you don’t like being a free elf, and I hope you know I’d change that if I could, not for my sake, but for yours. I have no right to expect you to do anything I ask, but I am going to ask nevertheless. I’m hoping that for the sake of Helga Hufflepuff, who made this place into a sanctuary for your kind, that you will choose to do what I ask.

“Winky, I would like to ask you to stop drinking butterbeer. It is bringing you no happiness and I believe it is getting in the way of your finding any.”

Winky looked at the nearly empty bottle in her hand as if saying goodbye to a friend then threw it across the room into one of the kitchen’s many bins.

“I would also like to ask you to do whatever Mani here asks of you. For many years now the Hogwarts staff have chosen one elf to give instructions to the rest on their behalf. At present that is Mani. Whatever he asks you to do, consider it a request from myself.”

“Winky is standing up straight,” Mani said with little effect.

Lori mouthed at him, “ask, don’t tell.”

Winky is standing up straight, please,” Mani tried again. This time Winky did as she was bidden.

“Lastly, Winky. You know where the Hufflepuff common room is, and you know I am in there most of the time these days. It matters to me that you are happy, so please, if this doesn’t make you happier, please come and find me, alright?”

“Winky is doing what Professor Sprout is asking.”

“Winky is making sandwiches, please,” Mani said gently. “When Winky is not drunk from butterbeer anymore, Mani is finding her other things to do.”

Winky headed obediently over to a long table where several house elves were busily slicing, buttering and filling sandwiches. She joined them and started working.

“Well, I… I have to admit, Lori, I had my doubts. How did you know?”

“I don’t think I did professor. Call it a hunch.”

“Well done indeed. I should think fifty points to Hufflepuff for such a good idea.”

No-one had mentioned the house cup for such a long time, Lori had forgotten about it and stood staring at the professor’s retreating back. The winners would be announced later in the week and Lori had no idea who was likely to win. Nor did she much care.

Mani held out Lori’s parchment. “It is a good writing, Little Miss. You is keeping your promise.”

“Thank you, Mani. I trust that you will keep yours.”

“Cringe is returned to his family home and is happier. Winky is being more difficult, but I is thinking less so now.”

“Remember, ask, don’t tell. However much she may wish to be otherwise, she is a free elf.”

“Little Miss is understanding house elves better than most. I is keeping my promise to Little Miss.”

And that was more or less how the term ended. The last day arrived and the final feast of the year. The house point counter had been brought into the Great Hall where it made a backdrop behind the teachers. The red and blue were so near to level it was hard to tell which of the two houses led the other. It was somewhat academic though since the green stood as far above the evenly contested houses as the yellow stood below it.

At sight of the display, Lori found herself minding very much who won the House Cup. She made her way to the Hufflepuff table and sat beside Anneka, whose face was as stormy as her own.

Anneka leaned across. “This is the worst thing about being in Hufflepuff,” she murmured into Lori’s ear. “At least according to my mum.”

Lori was about to respond when Professor McGonagall stood and the quiet mumble of voices died into silence.

“Another year at Hogwarts has ended,” the headmistress began. “An eventful one and a sad one. For the first time in two decades, we lost members of the school. Miss Elizabeth Mitchell who only joined the Hogwarts staff this year, Miss Gertie Warrington of Hufflepuff and Miss Maddy Pentwhistle of Ravenclaw. They will be sadly missed by all of us, and perhaps the best thing we can do for them now is to remember them with fondness.

“Twenty or so years ago, a group of dark wizards, headed by an individual I no longer choose to acknowledge, attempted to bring the wizarding world and the world as a whole into an era of darkness. It took a large group of brave individuals, many of whom came from this school, to stand against the threat and to defeat it. It took bravery and sacrifice and it bought us twenty years of peace. This year a more insidious evil threatened our world, and it took the bravery and sacrifice of one of our own to defeat it.

“How long the peace shall last this time is up to us all. A good friend of mine used to say that the price of peace is constant vigilance, and he spoke the truth. When evil walks about in our world, it is the duty of us all to take note and respond. I fear this time we had all become too complacent and the threat nearly devoured us.

“My friend, Alastor Moody, lived and died according to that one principle. I don’t believe it is necessarily our part to give every moment of our lives to the fight between good and evil as he did, but we do need to be ready to recognise it when it rears its ugly head and to respond. For those in between times, it is good to celebrate our successes, and to that end we have a tradition at Hogwarts by which we may do just that. It is our annual awarding of the house cup to the house that has done most to uphold the traditions and values of our school.

“As you can see, the results seem to lean somewhat overwhelmingly in favour of one particular house, but we also have a tradition in Hogwarts of making a few last-minute adjustments before the final tally is taken.

“This year, a large part of our student body remained indisposed for the best part of a term. In this state, they were unable to contribute to their houses’ success. By no means is it certain that any of these students would have earned any points for their houses, but some most assuredly would have. As a crude measure, I have decided to award one point to each student who spent time in the infirmary or one of the care wards for each day they were out of the picture. I believe this will change the lay of the land a little.”

She turned to the board as the adjustments were made. All houses advanced, but none by so much as Hufflepuff and none by so little as Slytherin. By the end of the adjustment, the colours formed a fairly even line, with Slytherin still holding a narrow lead.

“It is also customary to award points for any student achieving either outstanding or exceeds expectations in their final year exam marks. Ten points for each O and five for each E.”

Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff surged forward. Slytherin still held the lead but by less than two hundred points.

“And finally, we have points to award for individual achievements. Already on the board are seventy-five points to Lori Scamander of Hufflepuff for being the youngest student at Hogwarts to ever produce a Patronus and an additional two hundred for teaching the spell to eight students, including her brother.” The room applauded much to Lori’s discomfort. “Also on the board are two hundred and fifty point to Lysander Scamander for the ten students to whom he was able to teach the Patronus charm.” Again, the applause, this time Lori joined in, enjoying her brother’s embarrassment.

“As I am quite certain the entire school is aware, Lori also made the reckless move of entering the Forbidden Forest while the mist still surrounded Hogwarts, taking with her the only artefact capable of stopping the mist. The school cannot condone a first year in particular taking such a risk, and so I am compelled to take one hundred points from Hufflepuff as a result.” A collective groan ran around her table. That had to put Hufflepuff out of the running. Anneka gave her a sympathetic look. “She did, however, succeed in her endeavour, bringing an end to the mist and quite probably saving a number of lives. For this, I will award fifty points to Lori and a further twenty to her brother who aided and abetted her in the endeavour.”

Those at the Slytherin table looked like they were getting ready to celebrate, but McGonagall wasn’t finished. “Two students in particular this year are considered responsible for rebuilding the trust between the school and the unicorn herd that lives in the forest. To Lori Scamander and Anneka Peasbottom I award a further sixty points.” That put them within a hundred and twenty points of the lead. “And lastly,” which wouldn’t be enough. No single award had exceeded a hundred points. “Lastly, for a piece of extracurricular research worthy of Rowena Ravenclaw herself, but which was conducted by a member of another house. For one of the most comprehensive historical papers written in recent years which has not only revealed details in a long-hidden chapter of the magical world’s past, but also restored lost magical techniques and in the process provided invaluable aid to a fellow pupil. Anneka Peasbottom, it is my very great delight to award you, with the full support of the teaching staff, an unprecedented one hundred and fifty house points.”

Three tables exploded into cheers along with one or two individuals from the once more defeated Slytherins. The room decorations changed to a rarely seen yellow and Anneka was invited to step up onto the stage to accept the House Cup. She reached out a hand, asking Lori to join her, but she refused. This was Anneka’s victory and hers alone.

And so term ended. Lori looked on as Anneka became the centre of attention on the Hufflepuff table. She was delighted for her friend and her fellow Hufflepuffs for the victory, and all the more because it had been stolen from Slytherin. Part way through the celebrations, Lori slipped quietly out of the hall, though not entirely unnoticed. A few minutes later a silver tabby with unusual markings about its eyes followed her.

McGonagall found Lori sitting on the side of the broken fountain, much as she had done on the first night of term.

“An eventful year,” she said, gazing up at the sky.

“Mmm.” Lori’s responded distractedly.

“Not everything you wanted though?”

Lori looked up.

“As I recall this where you come when you’re unhappy.”

The young girl smiled ruefully. “I don’t really have a right to be unhappy, do I? I mean, I have everything I was looking for when I first came here.”

“And yet?”

“I’m sad about how things are changing between Anneka and me. I’ve never had a friend like her. I thought we were falling in love with each other, but now, the more I turn into a girl, the more she seems to pull back.”

“Give her time. She’s understandably confused at the moment. Let her have enough space to sort out her feelings.”

“I was thinking about that. Professor, could I ask you a question…?”

-oOo-

The summer holiday had passed without much incident. Once she’d returned home, she’d gone out looking for the group of girls she’d talked to before. There wasn’t enough of the old her left for them to recognise her, but they accepted her as a new girl in the neighbourhood.

Rolf had requested permission from the Ministry to use a memory altering charm on their neighbourhood, to the effect that they would recall Lysander and Lori as non-identical twin brother and sister, and this had been approved.

It did mean that when the neighbourhood boys caught up with her, one or two of them started pestering her to go out on a date. She declined as gracefully as she could, but they turned angry and threatening until Lysander came along to defend her, earning himself yet another bloody nose. He’d left the other two in a worse state though and the local boys learned to leave Lori alone.

It then meant that some of the girls in Lori’s new group of friends asked if she could set them up on a date with her brother, which Lye didn’t mind at all.

Lori wrote to Anneka a couple of times during the summer, once to say how things had changed for her at home and once again when the family took a holiday up in the Lake District. Anneka’s replies were polite but short, so Lori let her be.

The Hogwarts Express departure date arrived. They travelled down to King’s Cross together where they made an uneventful transition onto platform nine and three quarters. At the twins’ insistence, they arrived early, whereupon they said their goodbyes and climbed aboard.

Almost all the compartments were empty, so Lori and Lye picked one and settled down to see who might join them. Lori kept hoping Anneka might come, but they ended up being inundated by a gaggle of second year girls from a variety of different houses. Lori didn’t know any of them that well but, such was the price of fame, they all knew her.

They were all half-bloods or Muggle born, so had all experienced the terror of being unable to breath when Express had passed through the mist, then later they’d all succumbed to the mist and spent some weeks unconscious.

They all wanted to express their thanks and ask after her experiences. They’d seen how disfigured she was, so they wanted to know how that happened and how she’d overcome it, and didn’t she look pretty now?

At one point Anneka appeared, looking in to the compartment. Lori gave her an apologetic shrug and she moved on.

She looked for her friend at Hogsmeade station, but it was raining and everyone second year and above was running for a carriage. Lori ran too and, in the rush, she spotted Hortensia Skunk and Morgana Melrose climbing into one together. She joined them and was followed by Hannah Nagron and Maddy Pentwhistle along with a Slytherin boy Lori didn’t know. The journey was mercifully short as the Slytherin contingent did their best to exclude her from their conversation whilst including Hortensia.

Up at the castle, they all filed through to the Great Hall. Lori spotted Anneka sitting at the Hufflepuff table and waved. Her friend waved back and pointed at a nearby seat — not next to her but more or less opposite.

Lori wanted to ask how her summer had been, but she was deep in conversation with the girl beside her. Then Professor McGonagall stepped forward ahead of the line of bedraggled first years. She placed the tatty old sorting hat on the stool ahead of her and lifted her gaze to the room, which fell into silence.

The hat awoke and, speaking from a tear near its brim, sang out in a croaky and dissonant voice.

“And so another year begins
For Hufflepuffs and Slytherins,
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw
Competing as they have before,
For years on end in friendly contest
To see which among them may be best

“And with the new year, here we see
A group of first years eagerly
Awaiting news of where they belong
So let us end this ridiculous song
Cold and wet as you may be
Let us begin the sorting ceremony.”

“You’d think with nothing to do for a whole year it’d be able to come up with something better than that, wouldn’t you?”

Lori glanced to one side to find Hortensia sitting next to her.

“It wasn’t the best, was it? Maybe it’s the emergency short version of the song so the sorting can get done before any of the first years catch pneumonia.”

She stopped talking as McGonagall’s gaze turned towards her. Lori kept her eyes on her former roommate and twitched an eyebrow. Hortensia managed smile and a nod. “You’ve forgiven me worse,” she whispered, risking McGonagall’s ire.

They sat through the sorting ceremony, which was, for the damp and bedraggled first years, mercifully short. Rather than going directly to their tables as per tradition, they hurried over to stand by the large fireplace, where they steamed gently.

Once the last of them had been given a home, all eyes turned back to the headmistress, except the Sorting Hat hadn’t finished.

“I never make an error,
Though I’ll sometimes change my mind,
So here’s a call to second years
Who think that you will find
Greater contentment if sorted differently,
Give your minds to what you desire
I’ll think about it, and we’ll see.”

Lori felt that familiar chill of apprehension. This was what she’d asked McGonagall about at the end of the year. She’d hoped to talk it over with Anneka before making any decisions, but circumstance had conspired to deny them the opportunity.

She couldn’t let the opportunity slide though. She focused her mind and thought of leaving Hufflepuff.

“Lori Scamander,” the sorting hat said quietly but distinctly.

She stood, aware of the shocked faces looking at her, of Anneka’s most of all.

“I thought you needed some space,” she said. “I mean, I don’t know what’s going to come of this, but I’ll still be here at Hogwarts for when you’re ready to talk.”

“Lori Scamander?” the hat repeated.

She walked up to the stool and placed the hat on her head. Incongruously it seemed larger than the last time she’d put it there.

“Hmm,” the voice murmured in her brain. “Well, you don’t have the same need of friendship as you did before, that’s true, but do you want to abandon the friends you’ve made this year? No, I can see that’s not the problem. You could always ask for a dorm shuffle… Except all of your fellow Hufflepuffs would prefer to keep to their current dorms and you wouldn’t want to disrupt that. You do think of others more than yourself, which means you are a good fit in Hufflepuff you know? Having said that, O’s and E’s for your end of year exams last year, that does strongly suggest you belong in Ravenclaw, and the courage you showed as well suggest you wouldn’t go far wrong in Gryffindor. Not Slytherin, not, definitely not Slytherin. Your brother’s in Ravenclaw, so that makes most sense. If you’re absolutely sure?”

“Ravenclaw,” called out the hat.

There was a little polite applause, but most people were too shocked to respond. This was something unprecedented at Hogwarts, or at least so everyone had thought. Lori kept her head down and made her way to her brother’s table, avoiding the shocked looks of her former house.

“Anneka Peasbottom,” the hat said.

Lori jerked upright, as startled as her friends had been a moment ago. Anneka stood and stared across the room at her, her expression unreadable. She made her way to the stool and placed the hat on her head.

It seemed to take ages. Lori wondered if she’d sat there for an equally long time. Eventually the split in the hat’s brim opened and it said, “Ravenclaw.”

Anneka placed the hat on the stool and made her way over to the Ravenclaw table and sat beside Lori.

“I thought…”

“Did you?”

“Anneka, you’ve been so distant, I didn’t know what to do.”

“You could have asked.”

“You could have let me.”

McGonagall stood back up and addressed the school. “Well, if we’re done with that…”

“Hortensia Skunk,” said the Sorting Hat.

McGonagall stood back and nodded to Hortensia to come forward. She did, placing the hat on her head as the others had.

This time it took less than half a minute before the hat declared, “Slytherin,” and a very pleased Hortensia went to join her preferred crowd.

“Oh well, I guess we didn’t do as well with her as we thought,” Anneka said.

“We did amazingly well with her, but just how would she have coped in Hufflepuff without either of us around?”

“If we are done,” McGonagall announced, making it clear that we had better be done, “perhaps we can get on with the feast.”

“Speaking of which,” Lori said as plates of food began to appear around them, “how did you persuade the hat to let you move?”

“Excuse me, but just which of us got the most outstandings in our exams?”

“Who had to take a week out from revision to give testimony at the court case of the year?”

“Who rearranged the revision timetable so you could get back on track?”

“Who was struggling with looking like a troll during all this?”

“And who did something about that? And wrote, what was it McGonagall called it? ‘The most comprehensive historical paper in recent years’ in the process?”

“Fine, so you’re better qualified to be in this house than me but getting the Sorting Hat to change its mind wasn’t just about being academic. It asked me about all the friends I’d be leaving behind!”

“Me too. So, what did you say?”

“I said I didn’t want to leave any of them.”

“And it let you change?”

“I told it that the one person I cared most about needed space, and I couldn’t give it to her as long as we were in the same dormitory or even the same house. I told it I didn’t want to leave, but I wanted to respect your wishes.” Lori had been spooning mashed potato onto her plate in a sort of automatic way and now there wasn’t room for anything else. “I don’t suppose you’d like some of this mash, would you?”

“You idiot!”

“It’s only potato.”

“No. I mean, okay pass some of that over. And you’re not an idiot, at least no more than I am.”

“Oh?” With half the mash disposed of she now had room for sausage, peas and gravy, which she served herself in more reasonable portions.

“I told that hat I couldn’t imagine life at Hogwarts without my best friend.”

“But…”

“But I’ve shut you out for months. I don’t know what I was expecting that potion to do to you, but it really messed with my mind. Before you were someone I was rapidly falling in love with, and I’m sorry, I guess I still saw you as a boy, even if you were a really girly one. When you changed, I was sooo excited for you at first, because you lost that mix and match look you had, and you got to look so pretty. Then it seemed like all of a sudden, I couldn’t look at you the same way. You had suddenly become all girl…”

“Well, not quite.”

“No, I mean all the way. You came out of the bathroom in your skippies, which you have never done before.”

“My what?”

“Skippies. Underwear.”

“Before you’d have seen a bulge.”

“Exactly. I mean you said there was still something down there, but there was nothing I could see. And you weren’t worried about whether or not I’d see anything. That was a big change, Lori.

“It meant I couldn’t see you as a boy who liked to be a girl anymore. It meant I had to decide if I could actually be in love with a girl, all the way in love, and I… there’s something inside me which just can’t.”

“So, you backed off. I could see that. I won’t say it didn’t bother me, but I was ready for it.”

“I know, you said. You’ve been so much more mature over this than me. I couldn’t handle it. I needed space.”

“Which I tried to give you. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been not writing to you this summer? Then you weren’t there on the train…”

“You seemed to have enough friends without me…”

“Or on the coach ride…”

“If you recall, it was hissing it down…”

“Even at the table you seemed to shut me out.”

“Yeah, well…”

“So, I figured you still needed space. I’d already asked Prof M about the possibility of moving houses, and she evidently had a word with the Sorting Hat. It gave me a choice and I took it.”

“Yeah, and the moment you did, I realised how much I still need you in my life. I mean, not in a Hortensia-Morgana way, I can’t do that, but in a best friends kind of way. I realised if we were in different houses, we’d see so much less of each other. Lori, I don’t think I could live with that.”

“You’d be surprised what you can live with if you have to.”

“But we don’t have to. Not this. I told the Sorting Hat that weighing all the friendships I’d lose leaving Hufflepuff against the one I’d lose if I let you go, I’d rather follow you. So, it let me.

“Lori, I’ve been an idiot. Can we, er…”

Lori put a hand on her friend’s arm. Anneka flinched a little, so she withdrew it.

“It’s all I’ve wanted. Friends, nothing more. Nothing more needed.”

A general clearing of throat from behind and slightly below them drew their attention. They turned to see Professor Flitwick standing a short distance away.

“Good evening, ladies. Much as I hate to interrupt — this has, after all, been quite fascinating to watch, a lot like bludger practice the way everyones’ heads have been going back and forth. Firstly, a very warm welcome to Ravenclaw house. I am delighted, though I will say a little astonished, to have you join us. Perhaps we can have a conversation about that sometime this week.

“Secondly, and I must apologise about this, we appear to have all dormitories filled in Ravenclaw at present. It seems the Sorting Hat did not foresee this particular outcome. We thought about putting you up in the common room, though that hardly seemed very welcoming, so instead I have had a conversation with the other heads of house, and it turns out that Hufflepuff have a vacant dormitory. Hardly surprising I suppose as it happens to be the one vacated by the two of you.

“You would still be in Ravenclaw house and have access to all privileges awarded to Ravenclaw students, but we wondered if, at least until we find a more suitable solution, you two wouldn’t mind remaining in your current room in Hufflepuff.”

“Erm,” Anneka started. “We’ve no objection, at least I assume we haven’t?” Lori shook her head. “The problem is we had a sort of incident last year and Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout decided it would be inappropriate for the two of us to share a dormitory on our own. They let us off for most of last term because of what Lori had been through but…”

“Actually,” Lori said a little sheepishly. “I’m not sure that applies anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I first took that potion, as we’ve already said, I was still to some degree a boy. My subconscious and the magic in me has been working on that over the summer. I mean don’t you notice anything different about me?”

“Well, I can see you’ve got boobs, but it wouldn’t take a lot of magic to give boobs to any boy.”

“It’s not just the boobs, Anni, and since you’ve made it quite clear that you’re not into girls, I don’t think we’re likely to have the same trouble we had last year.

“Professor Flitwick, if it’ll make things easier for the school, and if our former fellow Hufflepuffs don’t mind, Anni and I would be happy to go back into our old room.”

-oOo-

Anneka knelt on the bed drawing her mother’s brush through Lori’s hair, now largely ash blonde.

“I like the colour your hair is now, but you know you have a darker layer underneath. We could change it to match if you want.”

“That’s my mum’s colour,” Lori replied. “Most of this I get from Raphael; it’s pretty much the same as his mother’s. It’s been like this since that scrap at the Maledicta’s place. I don’t think we really paid much attention to it before because of all the other less pleasant changes.”

“I get that. Hang on, let me try something.” She change the way she brushed for a while. “There.”

“What did you do?”

“Shifted it a bit so it shows through, kind of like low lights.”

“I’ve got a lot to learn.”

“Suits me. I have a lot to teach.”

Following the feast, Lori had been invited to the infirmary where she had endured a somewhat embarrassing examination from Madam Pomfrey, who had pronounced her, while not entirely transformed, certainly on the way and closer to being a girl than a boy.

They’d then returned to the Hufflepuff common room where they’d spent the best part of a half hour explaining to their friends why they had done what they had done and, being Hufflepuffs, they’d found it easy enough to accept and forgive. As one of them had said, it wasn’t as if they were going anywhere, and they were hardly likely to hold onto the House Cup for a second year even if they still had Lori and Anneka’s contributions.

The house elves had altered the lining on their robes so they were now half yellow and half blue. It meant they had free access to the Ravenclaw common room and the additional research material it held — as long as they could solve the door knocker’s riddle — plus they had a choice of which table they sat at during meals. They hadn’t quite worked out how they were going to handle that yet, only that they’d be seated together at the same table.

Lori took over with the brush while Anneka sat back to enjoy the experience.

“So, do you have plans for the weekend?” Anni asked.

“Ravenclaw have a friendly against Gryffindor and Lysander asked me to go along. I don’t really have an excuse not to now. Why d’you ask?”

“Well, it’s just that Ainsley Miggins stopped me in the corridor earlier and asked if we’d be up for doing something with him and a friend. I don’t know if you’re ready for boys yet, but…”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Sheldon Landys.”

Lori stopped brushing. The brush quivered in her hand telling her she wasn’t done. “I thought he was a fifth year.”

“Sixth now. He made prefect last year.”

Lori resumed her brushing. “That’d make him four years older than me.”

“Yeah, well I’ll have him if you don’t want him.”

“Anni!”

“Well, why not? My dad’s five years older than my mum and they get on great.”

“I guess he is kind of…”

“Kind of what? Buff? Cute? Come on, spill.”

“No, it was the way he looked at me last year. Misshapen head, big clunky right hand, limp like, what was that film you told me about?”

“Quasimodo? Oh no, your limp was way worse.”

“Hey, be nice! There’s a few knots in here and I’m not afraid to tug.”

“Is that nice as in silly, or dainty or agreeable?”

“The last. Definitely the last. Anyway, he looked at me like I was normal, or better than normal. He made me feel less of a freak.”

“So, you’ll come?”

“Where? I mean the weather’s not likely to be great, and we have to stay on school grounds. I don’t see the library as being much of a spot for a date.”

“I was actually thinking about the Quidditch match. Let’s see how much we can put Lysander off his game when he spots you in the company of a Gryffindor prefect!”

“You’re scary sometimes, you know that?”

“Like you said, you’ve a lot to learn. If you’re going to be a girl, you have to know what you have in your arsenal.”

Lori finished brushing. She handed the brush across and scooched into her bed. Anni headed for hers and did the same.

“So what do you think this year will bring?” Anneka asked. “Trolls? Giants? Dragons?”

“I hope not. I had my fill of excitement last year. Besides, learning to be a girl sounds like it’s going to be exhausting enough. Nox.”

The lights went out. Lori snuggled into her pillow feeling all that was right in her life flowing through her like a trickle of warm honey. Nothing was going to get in the way of her happiness this year.

A house elf apparated beside her bed with a loud bang and a flash of light, startling her out of her reverie.

“Little Miss. Mani is saying you is to come quick. Is Winky. She is being in biiiig trouble.”