From a Serpent to a Lioness: Year Two

(Hi hi! So, this is part two of “From a Serpent to a Lioness”! Hope you all like it as much as the first one! Anyway, on with the show!)

I sigh, sifting my fork through the food on my plate, Mini at my feet, her head buried in a bowl of liver. The summer break stretches out behind me, a summer of unanswered letters… I’d written to Harry at least six times, but he hadn’t responded. Hermione and Ron have had the same issue, too.  Across the table, my parents are seated. My mother is sneering about some poor soul she’s belittled recently, while my father turns over a page in the Daily Prophet, grumbling over something he disapproves of in the news.

They haven’t figured out anything about the real me, thank Merlin, but one of my relatives, a haggard old crone called Great-Aunt Eleonora, is sitting opposite me, narrowed eyes fixed on me as if she can see everything that lurks in the deepest parts of my mind. Taking a bite of my scrambled eggs, I try to ignore her gaze, focussing on my upcoming return to Hogwarts.  My letter for the new books and required items arrived earlier in the week, and I’ve been given permission to go shopping on my own. And, to boot, my return to school is going to be sooner than strictly necessary, thanks to my father insisting that I ‘make something of myself this year’.

In my room, I re-read the most recent letter from Ron. He’s invited me to stay at his, rather than wait at Hogwarts for a week before school starts again. My heart races, and I can’t help a smile from breaking across my face. It takes no time at all to pack, since I’ve been ready to go for a week or more already.

Making my way downstairs, I bid farewell to my parents. Heading into the dining room, I reach into the ornate jar, procuring a moderate handful of a fine, glittery powder. Picking Mini up and tucking her against my chest, I raise my hand, casting the Floo powder into the fire. I say, clearly but quietly, “The Burrow!”

The flames leap higher and turn a sickly green, and I plunge in, my case gripped firmly, and the world darkens for a few long moments, before brightening, light and noise rushing in, as I emerge into a different room from the one I’d left.  A loud yelp fills my ears, and I blink the emerald light from my vision.

A small girl with straight red hair bolts from the room, and the sound of drumming footsteps joins the din. Ron barrels into the room, grinning widely.

“Max! You came, brill!”

He pulls me into a hug as Mini escapes in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding getting caught up in Ron’s hugging, as Fred and George follow in, both wearing identical grins, as well as sweaters.

“Hey there, looks like you took Ron up on his offer!” one of the twins choruses, and I nod, extricating myself from Ron’s grasp. A large, matronly woman bustles in, the small girl in tow, as she clucks at everyone. “What’s all this fuss, honestly, I can’t get a moment’s peace- oh! Hello, dear, you must be Ron’s friend! Max, yes? Welcome, welcome, I’m Molly Weasley!”

I nod, starting to smile as Molly pulls me into a warm embrace. “Ron’s been talking about you all the time, you know? It’s good to see that he’s made some good friends at Hogwarts!”

Eventually, Ron manages to free me from his mother’s grasp, and we head outside into the warm sunlight. Wandering through the field of long, thick grass, Mini rustling through the stalks like some tiny and unusual jungle-cat, I take several deep breaths, relishing the sudden feeling of freedom that stretches out before me.

I’m free to be myself, to not have my parents breathing down my neck and trying to ‘make a man’ out of me. Free to relax and let my hair down, literally AND metaphorically speaking. I loosen the stupid warrior’s braid my father insists on me using unless I want my hair cut off, letting my ash-blonde tresses flow down my back.

“Haaaah….. Much better!” I sigh, feeling the sunlight play over my face as I lean back a little on a ramshackle fence. Ron chuckles, “bet you’re relieved to be away from your folks for a while, Max?”

I groan, “Oh you have NO idea! Having to boymode was suuuch a drag, I can’t stand it!”

From behind me, a small voice pipes up, “what’s boymode?”

I start, as Ron stifles a curse. Turning, I see the small red-haired girl from the living room. She’s standing a few feet away, looking sheepish.

As I try to recover my train of thought, Ron snaps, “Ginny! Why’re you listening in on a private conversation?!” she turns pink, and I shake my head.

“Ron, it’s okay, I don’t think she meant to eavesdrop. Hi, I’m Max, and I’m a friend of Ron’s from school. Sorry for startling you earlier.”

She blinks, before nodding. “It’s okay. Mum just wanted me to let you know that breakfast’s ready. So, what’s boymode?”

I look at Ron, and then nod. “I’ll explain, Ron, it’s okay.” Turning back to his sister, I take a deep breath.

“Well, boymode, or boymoding, is when I have to dress and act like a boy. You see, despite my current appearance, I’m not a boy at all. I’m really a girl!”

Ginny frowns. “So... you’re a girl? I’m sorry, I thought… never mind!” she darts back towards the Burrow, Mini’s head poking out of the grass curiously, her nose twitching, a limp fieldmouse hanging from her jaws. Ron yells, “You’d better not tell anyone about this!”

I shrug as Ron stares after his younger sister. “Sorry about her… she can be a pain at times. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. She’s young enough to handle stuff like this better than most.” I comment, stretching as Mini bounds out of the thick grass, tail puffed up and floofy. I beckon to her, and she comes to heel, chirring at me as we amble our way back towards the house.

Breakfast in the Weasley household is… a lot livelier than back home, with chatter and conversation filling the air, bacon, sausages, fried bread, eggs, tomatoes, and mushrooms piled high. The table is packed, with the twins, Percy, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron, and Ginny, shifting up to make room for me. After a minute, I take the offered seat, a smiling Molly placing a plate before me.

“Eat up, dear, you look like you could use a good breakfast!” she coaxes, as the empty frying-pan on the stove lifts up and drifts over to the sink. Ginny keeps stealing lingering looks at me, and I smile at her as I lift my fork, digging in as Ron nods appreciatively at me. “S’good, right?”

I nod, chewing meditatively, before leaning in and asking, “Have you heard anything from Harry?” Ron shakes his head, a dark look on his face.

“Nah… haven’t heard anything. It’s weird… d’you think the muggles he lives with have… done something?”

I shrug. “I don’t know… Hermione hasn’t gotten a letter, either. I have to admit, I’m quite worried.”

Once my plate is empty, Mini leaps into my lap, tugging at my sleeve for attention. I pet her affectionately, and Ginny’s eyes widen as she spots the tiny Fennec fox.

“Merlin’s beard, she’s sooooo cuuute!” she gasps quietly, and I smile. “Say hello, Mini!”

Mini’s huge ear flicks, and she turns her head towards the other girl. She stretches, and then yips in greeting. “Err-ow!”

I stifle a giggle as Ginny squeaks in shock. Mini preens, looking very satisfied with herself, her bushy tail curled around her feet as she settles down to nap.

The rest of the day passes quietly, and I start to relax thanks to having freedom to be more myself. Mini explores and ends up stuck behind a closet for a couple of minutes before I extricate her and dust her fur down. She sneezes at me, blinking huge dark eyes, before scampering off to continue her exploration. Throughout the day, I bump into Ginny, the twins, even Percy. Mrs Weasley doesn’t seem to ever stop, always on the move like some tornado of motherliness, completely the opposite of mine…

When dinner comes round, Mrs Weasley produces a massive, steaming hotpot, homemade and deliciously filling, while Mini feasts on a bowlful of fresh mince, mixed with small chunks of celery and carrot, her tail blurring across the floor.

Mr Weasley leans in. “So, looking forward to your second year at Hogwarts, eh, Max? Ron?”

Ron, his mouth full with his second, or maybe third, portion of hotpot, simply nods, and I chime in, “Absolutely! I can’t wait to see what we’ll learn this time!”

“You know, you sound like that girl you always hang around with! Hermione Granger, right? Isn’t she a nerd, or what?” Fred snickers, a teasing grin on his face.

I feel my ears burn a little. “She’s not a nerd, she’s really smart…” I murmur, not wanting to get into an argument over the subject. Ron brushes the topic off as Mini leaps into my lap and curls up, tail flicking round to act as a pillow.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to school. Should be fun, as long as it’s not as full of homework!” he laughs. I roll my eyes. “It’s fine, Ron, I can help you with that, no problem. It’s the least I can do for my friend, after all."

Mrs Weasley smiles at me, serving up dessert, a huge, fruit-filled crumble, steaming, and thick with syrupy sweetness. As the twins chat quietly about the shenanigans they plan to get up to this year, Ginny scoots a little nearer. “Um… can I pet your um… fox?”

I smile and nod. “Sure, Mini loves attention.” I lean back a little, and Mini’s head lifts from where she’s been dozing. The younger girl’s hand gently hovers before the Fennec’s face, and Mini nibbles playfully at Ginny’s fingertips before ducking her head under and raising it, nuzzling the top of her floofy skull into the girl’s palm.

“That means she wants you to stroke her,” I giggle, and Ron elbows me. The twins are giving me a sidelong look, before sharing a glance that speaks volumes. While Ginny is distracted playing with my familiar, Mr Weasley leans in. “So, Max. What is it your father does, exactly?”

I retort without thinking, “Other than oppress me? Not much from what I can tell. Something in the Ministry, though he never talks about it…”

With a muffled throat-clearing, Mr Weasley looks away, before the twins flank me. “Hey, do you mind if we borrow you for a minute, Max?”  I look to Mini, who’s curled up on Ginny’s lap, emitting soft squeaks and purring chirps of bliss as she gets fussed over.

“Um, sure.” I slowly rise and follow Fred and George. They lead me outside, not too far from the house, before they lean against a scruffy, but well-cared-for blue car, arms crossed.

“So, how’s your sister?”

I stiffen. “She’s… fine. She’s been occupied most of the summer, though. Don’t really get it, must be… like, ‘girl stuff’…” I offer lamely, trying to proffer some excuse that might be plausible.

“Huh. Weird. Y’see, she’s been writing to Ron throughout the summer, and he never lets anyone see those letters... although, Fred and I managed to snaffle a couple of the envelopes.” George responds, waggling his eyebrows conspiratorially.

“Indeed, George! And we, observant pair that we are, have noticed that the oldest one has noticeably less neat and tidy handwriting. And the older one? Why, it bears handwriting that would be the pride of any young lady! So, that brings us to the crux of our little discourse…”

The twins lean in simultaneously, smiling. “You… ARE Maxine, aren’t you?”