Hogwarts Reimagined

When the full moon receded, it left Rhiannon’s bond with her fellow champions stronger in its wake. The second task wasn’t until February of the new year, and while they were warned to study the golden eggs they had seized as they contained clues to the next task, something much bigger and scarier loomed up in the immediate future.

The Yule Ball. Headmaster McGonagall took over their Transfiguration class the first Wednesday following the dragon task, and announced that this year, in honour of the visiting schools, the annual Christmas Feast would be replaced by a formal dance. Dance lessons were added to their schedules, to be held every weekday after classes and taught by the five House Heads in the Great Hall. The ball itself was on the winter solstice, which gave them all a little under two months until the event.

For now, Minerva led the first lesson in place of their Transfiguration class. “Miss Weasley, come on up here,” she invited, beckoning to Nina who flushed and sank lower in her seat. Rhiannon grinned and elbowed her off the bench they shared, and eventually Nina shuffled forward to take her place with Minerva in front of the class. “Thankyou, Miss Weasley – I’d like to brush up on my memory of the mens’ steps, it has been some time since I took a woman to a dance,” Minerva toldthe lanky redhead cheerfully. “Now, take my hand here and put your other hand on my waist – my waist, Miss Weasley, I’m not a nun,”

Rhiannon cackled, but jokes and Nina’s discomfort aside, the class was a fun one and she enjoyed herself until Minerva called for her to stay behind after. Then she was all nerves, and she trembled in her seat until the last students left the room and Minerva crossed it to stand before her desk. “Um – I’m not, in t-t-t-t-t-trouble, am I? I know my work’s slipping a bit with the tournament but I’m pretty sure I still handed in all the work Professor Barron set-”

“Hey, no, hold on – you’re not in trouble, it’s nothing like that – and you have maintained a consistent Outstanding grade in your work, a drop from Exceeds Outstanding is hardly cause for concern, especially not with all that’s going on,” the Headmaster held up her hands and stopped Rhiannon’s anxious stammering before she could get any further with it. “I just wanted to give you a heads up that the Champions will lead the first dance of the ball – which means that while bringing a partner is optional for all other students, that is not true for you and your peers. Not that I can foresee any difficulty in finding a partner – I’ve noticed things have changed between you and Miss Hermione, and you’ve always been close with young Luna.”

“I s’pose the rules do say one partner, right?” Rhiannon grumbled, her stomach already tying itself in knots at the thought. She’d asked Hermione to a dance before, Luna too – but this was formal, and that meant more pressure.

“Actually no – your former housemate Angelina is bringing both Katrina and Alicia with her as far as I know. But the beginning dance is led by pairs, so that will be something to think about either way,” Minerva replied. “I wish you good luck in the asking – I know as well as anyone how stressful it can be, and I hope things turn out the best.”

Rhiannon stammered a thankyou and took off out of the classroom before she burst into flames from the sheer embarrassment of it all. She scurried back to the dormitory to hide and consider her options, and kept her worries to herself for the rest of the week.

And for the rest of the week, that was that – until the morning of the next Monday, when an exhausted, elderly owl arrived at the breakfast table with a large package for Nina. Despite being in different houses, Rhiannon and her friends usually sat together at meals anyway and they were all curious to see what had arrived.

Nina unwrapped the package in front of her waiting friends, and out spilled a flood of maroonlinen and cream lace – unmistakeably clothing of some kind. The others all winced, but Nina didn’t seem particularly bothered – her mind was somewhere else entirely and she was totally unaware of her friends’ grimaces as she packed the mess of fabric away into her bag.

“Nina, what’s goin’ on? Anyone could tell you’re distracted,” Rhiannon asked her friend, catching up to her in the hallway when everyone had left the breakfast table.

Nina hunched her shoulders and pulled her cloak tighter around herself as the two of them made tracks down the hallway towards the library for some study before classes started. “I’m just – worried,” she admitted as they settled into beanbags in the library corner, she with a book of fiction and while Rhiannon had a book on dimensional transfiguration and spatial extension enchantments. “I’ve never been to a dance as a girl before, not – not properly.”

Rhiannon shrugged, leafing through her textbook as she considered the problem. “I’ll help any way I can, we can get ready together and do your makeup ‘n stuff, b-b-b-but – there’s no need to stress, not really. It’s just a dance for everyone else, you don’ even have t’ worry about findin’ a partner if you’re not ready – only the Champions have t’ find partners, we’re openin’ the dance.”

Nina grimaced and turned pleading eyes on Rhiannon. “That’s just what I’m worried about – Rhi, Viktor asked me to the dance. I’m going with a champion, so I do have to worry about openin’ the dance and how I look an’ all that!” she exclaimed, wringing her hands anxiously as she spoke.

Rhiannon stared wide-eyed at her friend, the facts suddenly making themselves clear to her. “So all the time you’ve bin missin’ this term, you’ve been hangin’ out with him?” she asked, though it was more a rhetorical question than anything else. “That settles it – there’s no way you can wear whatever that was that your ma sent at breakfast, not if you’re openin’ the dance,”

Nina sighed and flicked at a piece of lace sticking out of the top of her bag. “I know. That’s part of it, I just – didn’t want to be ungrateful, you know? It prob’ly belonged to some great-aunt or whatever, she’s really trying – you know she always wanted a daughter and Ginny was never really that girly so she’s been really excited and supportive with me comin’ out an’ everything, it’s just – a bit much, sometimes,” she replied glumly.

Rhiannon reached over and yanked the backpack out from between Nina’s feet, then pulled out the mess of burgundy fabric and cream lace to examine it critically. It was very clearly an old-fashioned set of womens’ dress robes, and with the right tailoring it could look quite nice – but it would be an unusual look and that wasn’t really something Nina looked very comfortable with.

“Okay, that settles it,” Rhiannon told Nina decisively, a little louder than she’d intended she realised as Madam Pince looked over and shushed them both insistently. “I don’t have anything to wear either, so we’re gonna go to the Headmaster and ask her to let us go to Hogsmeade for a shopping trip. My dads can supervise, I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“I can’t – I don’t have any money for shopping,” Nina protested feebly, but Rhiannon waved her off.

“Call it payment for this horrible thing – there’s no way you can wear it t’ the Ball if you’re goin’ with Viktor, that’s just not fair... but Luna might like it, xe’s a fair hand at sewing and I suppose it’s a good base to make something out of... so I’ll take it, and get you something better, it’s a fair trade,” Rhiannon replied, gesturing as she did so with the lacy dress robes.

A loud bell toll rang through the castle, interrupting any further conversation, and a quick check of the clock on the wall told them both it was time for Transfiguration class. Professor Barron did not tolerate lateness any more than McGonagall ever had, and they both hurried off to class. After class, Rhiannon had a free period while Nina had Defence, and she scurried off to check with the Headmaster about their shopping trip.

“It’s a lovely idea – I’m so glad Miss Weasley is finding herself,” Minerva agreed cheerfully as she signed the permission slip that would allow them both to visit Hogsmeade on an ordinary weekend.

Rhiannon shrugged and grinned wryly. “It’s been difficult, bein’ out as trans with everyone lookin’ at me as the Girl Who Lived, but... maybe I’m a bit arrogant, but... it seems like that’s made things easier f’r other trans students. And that kinda makes all that worth it.”

Minerva smiled and reached across the desk to pat Rhiannon’s hand affectionately. “It’s hardly arrogant – just insightful. You’re very right, of course – it’s never going to be easy being you, but you are making an easier path for others to follow. The truth takes courage, and yours more than most - I’m proud of you for following it. Now, go on and enjoy a day out with your family – you’ve earned it and then some.”

Rhiannon beamed wordlessly and hurried from the room, clutching the permission slip. She sent word with Chip back to her dads with the message that they’d be allowed out that weekend, and once that was finalised she could hardly wait for the weekend to arrive. Her teachers remarked that she was distracted in classes but gave her a free pass as her injuries were still healing, and it felt as if the week dragged by half as quickly as usual until finally Saturday arrived.

Rhiannon had become more of a morning person over the last couple of years, something to do with wolves being crepuscular. As such, she was up bright and early, much to the annoyance of her roommates – and of Nina, who was as far from a morning person as one could get. She ate breakfast quickly and slunk upstairs to her father Remus’ office and rooms, where she settled quietly into an armchair with a cup of some spiced drink Remus called a chai latte, which was a little puzzling given that chai indicated tea and there was no tea in this drink.

“Eh, I think some people make it with tea as well, but most cafes serve it like this, as another caffeine-free option that isn’t hot chocolate,” Remus replied with a shrug. “Funny – your dad used to make the same complaint. His Hindi was terrible but he knew that much.”

Rhiannon snickered – it amused her to think of her father struggling with languages the same way she did, it made him seem more like a person and less like a legendary figure she just happened to be related to. And it was nice to drink something hot, warm and filling the way hot chocolate was – fruit and herbal teas had grown on her, but they just weren’t satisfying in the same way.

“Oh, hang on a second – Sirius got you a gift, he’s taken to haunting the London bookshops in his free time,” Remus called from where he was puttering away in the kitchenette. Rhiannon perked up – gifts, especially books, were always exciting to a child who had grown up getting mouldy socks for presents if she got anything at all.

Remus rummaged in Sirius’ baggage – Sirius was also not a morning person – and eventually found what he was looking for, then crossed the room to hand the book to Rhiannon with a slightly bashful grin. “I know it’s not your birthday, or even properly Christmas yet, but you seemed so miserable healing from all those burns we agreed to just give it to you, distract yourself from all this,” he mumbled.

Rhiannon turned the book over, inspecting the green forest-printed cover curiously. Into The Wild, the title read in neat letters above the rectangular image of an orange cat sitting in a pool of sunlight. “It’s a book about... cats?” she asked, perusing the blurb on the back.

Remus laughed and settled himself down on the couch. “Yeah, Sirius said that jumped out at him – cats that think like people, they have, whatsit – tribes? No, Clans, I think. It’s just muggle fantasy, and maybe a bit childish for your usual, but we figured that might be a good thing – something totally different from our reality, might be a good break from it. He figured, well, there’s no magic and you like animals, so...”

Rhiannon hugged the book to her chest and repressed a squeal of delight so as not to wake Sirius, though she did flap about with her free hand – not nearly as much fun without the accompanying noise, but she had to let the joy out somehow. “It’s fantastic – I don’t care if it’s silly, ‘s just – easier to read, more distraction for less brainpower. Th-th-th-th-th-thanks, Da – I love it,” she stammered happily.

There came a distinctly grumpy mumbling sound and a rustle of blankets from the next room, and Rhiannon turned her head to look as Sirius tromped out of the bedroom wrapped in what looked to be all the covers of the bed. “Please tell me there’s coffee,” he grumbled as he flopped down on the couch and stretched out so that his head rested in Remus’ lap.

Remus swore as his drink spilled everywhere, and he swatted Sirius with a pillow. “Ach – Sirius, you spilled my drink!” he complained, drawing his wand to siphon away the mess. “And no, we don’t keep coffee – you can technically tolerate it but you know it makes your stomach cranky, and the rest of us can’t drink it, so why would we have any?”

“Why do you have to be so sensible at this hour?” Sirius whined, sounding distinctly puppyish as he wrapped himself more tightly in the blankets as he did so.

“You’re the one who got up, Mister Black, we were perfectly happy to let you sleep,” Remus told him, though he didn’t sound seriously upset – just mildly exasperated. A family of werewolves and the next closest thing, they did all tend to be a little clingy and Rhiannon knew that could be draining for any introvert.

“Perfectly happy without me,” Sirius grumbled, but like Remus there was no real upset to be found in his tone – it was just how he showed affection when he was tired. “G’mornin’, Rhi – I’ll be up in a bit.”

“I – I think I’ll go bother Nina again, give you some time to work through the blanket lump phase,” Rhiannon quipped back wryly. Sirius grumbled while Remus snickered and hugged him tightly, and Rhiannon left the room feeling like her heart might burst from joy. She tucked her new book into her backpack and hurried off to try and rouse Nina again.

Eventually everyone was out of bed and ready to move, and they set off for Hogsmeade at a steady walk. Niniane and Rhiannon took the lead while Remus and Sirius hung back, chatting quietly to themselves. Their reasons were totally transparent – they clearly wanted to let Nina and Rhiannon have a proper girls’ day out, and Rhiannon loved them for that.

“Gladrags is just up there, but it’s expensive – are you sure you’re alright taking me there?” Nina asked anxiously as she pointed out the purple-fronted tailor’s shop.

Rhiannon snorted and waved Nina’s anxiety away. “I already told you – yes. You’re opening the ball with a Triwizard Champion, of course I’m alright with it. I have all this stupid money, what’s the point of money if you can’t do nice things for your friends? When I’m older I want to use it to do nice things for everyone,” she replied cheerfully. Beside the tailor’s shop was a smaller green-fronted store half tucked into the alleyway, and its sign caught Rhiannon’s eye – Tarwater’s Tattoo and Piercing Parlour.

Evidently Nina saw it too, and she turned a mischievous grin on Rhiannon. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked, with another sideways glance back at the little shop.

“Get my dads distracted by pretty clothing, and sneak off to get our ears pierced?” Rhiannon whispered back. She cast a surreptitious glance over her shoulder at Remus and Sirius, still totally absorbed in their conversation. It wouldn’t be hard – they’d probably know where she’d gone, but they didn’t seem like they’d mind. She could probably ask permission and get it, but sneaking away just seemed more fun.

The four of them entered Gladrags’ Wizardwear, and immediately Rhiannon felt claustrophobic – the shop was larger on the inside but it was crowded, packed with racks of clothing in a wide array of styles and models on the end of each rack to display some of those styles. Wizarding clothing had a lot more freedom in regards to gender presentation, but there were many styles Rhiannon recognised from Muggle clothing as well. Remus and Sirius were immediately drawn to the corner that was filled with suits, and Rhiannon made a mental note to recommend the shop to Dudley – he’d mentioned something about wanting to take Ginny suit shopping for the ball.

Rhiannon’s dads were thoroughly distracted by tuxedos, and after browsing the dresses and dress robes themselves for a while Rhiannon and Nina took the opportunity to sneak out of the shop and into the piercing parlour next door. Unlike the tailor’s shop it was quiet and cool inside, with artworks hung on the walls displaying examples of tattoos they could do. Rhiannon had never thought about tattoos before, but it struck her as an interesting idea for when she was older – she was badly scarred and that was never going to change, perhaps tattoos would be a fun way of reclaiming her body when she was older.

“Are you lost?”

Rhiannon blinked, startled from her quiet study of the work on the walls by the sharp inquiry from an olive-skinned, dark-eyed woman with short, spiky-cut hair dyed a deep forest green with brighter stripes. “Um – no, we’re looking... Um, d’you do ear piercings?” she asked, self-consciously running a hand through the perhaps two inches of salt and pepper fluff that was now all she had of her hair as the woman looked her over.

“Of course we do – needle piercings only, no guns if that was what you were expecting, we don’t like ‘em. Have a seat, I’ll go and find one of our more experienced piercers, I don’t want to take any chances with your scarring,” the woman replied cheerfully. “My name’s Gwen, by the way. Take this, and this – pens in the cup between the chairs there, we just need you to read through how to care for your piercings and sign the form saying you’ve read and understood and accept the risks inherent in piercing, all that jazz. Be back in a bit!”

Rhiannon and Nina sat down and perused the forms they’d been given, warning them to clean the piercings daily with a solution they’d be given and not to fiddle with them or change them before they’d healed, apparently that would take about three weeks with the aid of the magic-infused salve. Both signed the forms – wizarding law was a little more permissive when it came to consent, and apparently fourteen was just fine for a simple lower earlobe piercing; and eventually another woman with bright-dyed hair – this time a vibrant scarlet – came out from the back room Gwen had gone into and took the forms from them.

“Niniane Weasley and... oh my, Rhiannon P- Black, here in our shop!” the crimson-haired woman announced delightedly, reading their named off the forms as she flicked through them to check everything had been filled in. “My name’s Anaika, you can both come on through,” she added, gesturing to a side room, though not the one she’d come out of.

Rhiannon and Nina frowned at eachother, a little exasperated by the usual fuss over Rhiannon’s presence, but they got up and limped into the side room without complaint. There was no point – Rhiannon couldn’t change what she meant to the wizarding world, she couldn’t stop being a sign of a victory even if she privately believed that victory to have been celebrated too soon.

The side room was small, the walls painted a pale cloudy green and the floor the same scratched but probably good-quality hardwood as in the reception. There was a low window that opened out into the alleyway beside the shop, and a desk with an overstuffed intray in one corner, beside which stood a chair with its back against the wall. In the centre of the room was another chair, vaguely resembling the sort one found in a dentists’ office but older in style and patched in many places.

“Alright, whoever’s up first, take a seat on the chair in the middle here. Niniane, is it? There’s some hairties on the desk there, it’ll be easier for me to work with your hair out of the way.” Anaika told them both cheerfully. “Now, with magic things should heal a lot quicker, you’ll want to see your school nurse if they get infected. They’ll feel hot and sort of throb if that’s the case, but don’t touch them except to clean them – hands have all kinds of germs on them.”

Rhiannon nodded – Madam Pomfrey had told her much the same thing when her burns were healing, and she ran her hands ruefully through the inch or so of black and brown-threaded grey fuzz that had grown back at the thought. “As for you, Rhiannon, they’re going to take a bit longer to heal with the scar tissue you’ve got there, so you might as well pick out a set of earrings you like from that card on my desk there, you’ll be stuck with ‘em until some time after that ball you lot have coming up,” Anaika added, gesturing to a chair beside the desk in the corner.

Nina sat down in the chair at the centre of the room, while Rhiannon limped over to the other chair and sat down, then took the card off the desk and squinted at it curiously. All the earrings were stud-shaped, that was probably easiest to get in at first, but there were a number of different shapes and different-coloured gems in the settings. Eventually she settled on a pair of studs shaped like flowers, with deep green crystals for the petals and clear crystals forming the centre, and by this time Nina was finished and it was her turn to sit in the chair, shivering anxiously as she pointed out the earrings she had chosen.

“Very nice – that green’s going to look so pretty against your skin,” Anaika told her as she dabbed cold alcohol onto Rhiannon’s earlobes to clean them. “Now, scar tissue’s a little tricky to pierce, and I don’t want to hurt you. May I have your permission to magically anesthetise the area?”

Rhiannon nodded, but she appreciated the red-haired woman asking – she had grown sensitive to magic over the last few weeks of being poked and prodded with it, and it always startled her when a spell was cast nearby. “Sensus torpet,” Anaika intoned softly, and a little spark flickered from her fingertips into Rhiannon’s skin, where it settled in both earlobes and burned for a few moments before the whole area grew numb. “There. You might feel a little pinch, but nothing more – no, please don’t turn your head, just sit still there,” she added, her fingers pressing gently into Rhiannon’s jaw when she tried to move.

As promised, there was a very slight pinch, but that was all and very soon it was all over. Anaika released the magical anaesthetic with a muttered finite incantatem, but even after that there was very little pain – Rhiannon’s earlobes felt swollen and a little warm, but that seemed like a normal reaction even if it was an annoying sensation.

“You look so pretty!” Anaika crowed, clapping her hands in delight as she stepped back to study her work. Rhiannon screwed up her face in a wry frown – she was many things, but pretty wasn’t exactly one of them. “No, really – you’ll be quite striking when that silver hair of yours grows back out. We have some potions here that will help it to grow out a fair bit faster, if you’d like.”

Shyly, Rhiannon agreed to the suggestion and she and Nina followed Anaika back out to the reception wearing matching smiles. Nina had chosen a pair of rounded violet studs, and the splash of deep colour glowed prettily against her long copper hair. Rhiannon waved aside her friend’s protests and paid for both their piercings, along with the hair regrowth solution for herself, then after a few more minutes thoughtfully perusing the example tattoos and deciding that yes, she might like one in the future, Rhiannon followed Nina out of the shop and back next door to the tailor.

“So, how are the piercings?” Sirius asked them both with a mischievous smile when they re-entered the tailor shop. Both girls flushed scarlet, and Rhiannon’s dads both cackled uproariously at their expressions. “My ears are almost as good as yours, you know,” Sirius reminded Rhiannon.

“Then why did you let us go!” Rhiannon protested, mortified by it.

Remus grinned and gently brushed aside Rhiannon’s short curls to look at the new earrings. “Very pretty – the colour suits you, and you as well Niniane. As for why... well, Sirius and I certainly snuck out to do all kinds of terrible things when we were at school, we decided you both deserved a bit of normal teenage mischief for once,” he told her cheerfully. “Don’t worry, we’ll smooth things over with Mrs Weasley – I doubt she’ll be too upset.”

Nina groaned. “No, she won’t mind at all – she loves having a new girly daughter to foist her treasures upon, I suppose she’s going to want to give me whatever Prewett heirloom jewellery she’s got left now,” she replied – though her complaints seemed more of the nature of fond exasperation than genuine distress.

Sirius snickered. “Ah, Molly – she always tried to mother us, even in school. We were a few years younger, but she caught on to Remus pretty early on and she’d patch him up whenever he got knocked around on full moons,” he recalled wistfully.

That surprised Rhiannon – Molly had been so awkward about her becoming a werewolf at first. But perhaps knowing a werewolf had made her all the more afraid for her children – trapped in that room on his own, Rhiannon knew her father had hurt himself without truly meaning to and that would have terrified any schoolgirl, especially the one who had tended to those wounds afterwards. In a way it comforted her to realise that Molly Weasley’s initial distrust of her had never been born from any true dislike of werewolves – simply a fear of the blood and hurt such a life naturally brought with it, and a desire to protect her children from something that very often caused one to harm themself.

“Now, we don’t have all day – why don’t we get on with looking for your ball dresses, the both of you?” Remus suggested, nudging Rhiannon out of her musing reverie. “Have you thought at all about what you might like to wear? Style, colour – fashion is more Sirius’ department than mine, but I’m happy to help you look.”

Rhiannon shrugged, and one hand rose to fiddle with her earrings before she remembered she wasn’t supposed to touch them. “I think – something green. It’s my favourite colour,” she replied shyly.

“Then green it is – and something elegant for Nina, I think, you’re so tall – you should make the most of it!” Sirius agreed cheerfully. Nina shrank, hunching her shoulders, but Sirius waved off her awkwardness with a laugh and a smile. “No, don’t hide – boys love tall girls even if they pretend otherwise, or girls if you prefer. Lily was almost your height, she turned everyone’s heads.”

Rhiannon blinked – she’d only ever seen two pictures of her mother, one alone on a stage and the other seated alongside her father, but somehow she’d never imagined her mother to have been the tall one – especially given how diminutive she herself was. “Yes, Lily was certainly the tall one – you definitely got your father’s height. He was a Seeker, you know, and aside from your friends Viktor and Cedric they do rather tend to be short,” Sirius told her. “He was only ever taller than anyone when he turned into that galumphing great deer shape of his.”

Rhiannon giggled, adjusting her mental image of her birth parents as she did so. Aunt Petunia was a couple of inches taller than Uncle Vernon, she remembered now with a flicker of a grimace – it made sense that her sister would have been the same. She wondered, as always, what her life might have been like if her parents had not been betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, if she had grown up with them... but that was not her life, and she had two perfectly wonderful loving fathers and a brother she would never have had in that life. And she would not trade Dudley for anything, she decided with a crooked smile. She had friends and family enough.

Happy with that thought, Rhiannon flicked through the racks of dresses until she had an armful to try on, and she retreated into the changing rooms with her fathers standing guard outside. Most were some shade of green, though she had found one in black and another in purple that she also quite liked the cut of. It was a little tricky to find anything she was comfortable in – she’d had to buy bras for everyday wear but her breasts were still tiny and a dress that showed them in any way would only serve to make her more uncomfortable, to say nothing of the scars she would have to glamour, and she quickly discovered than anything sleek resulted in a very much unwanted bulge. There was one good thing about wizarding fashion, at least – nothing was made out of synthetic fabrics, which meant no unpleasant sensations or static shocks, and Rhiannon’s complaints were more directed at the shape of the dresses than any of the normal frustrations of texture she had with clothing bought in Muggle stores.

It felt as if Rhiannon had tried on every green dress in the store and many more besides, by the time she finally found something she liked. The bodice was a deep green, high-necked as Rhiannon preferred with a handful of flowers embroidered upon the shoulder and waist. There were delicate ruffles like leaves over each shoulder, and slim-fitted sleeves that lightened from a soft green at the shoulders to pale cream at the wrists, and the skirt was full without being fluffy, the deep night-forest hue of the bodice and upper skirt lightening to a warm meadow-grass hue around the hem. It was relatively simple as far as ball dresses went, but that was a benefit in and of itself – with some of the others, Rhiannon had felt almost as if the dress were wearing her rather than the other way around but this... a small smile spread across her face as she looked herself over in the mirror. Simple, but by no means plain – with her friends’ help to do her makeup, and a month of hair growth assisted by the potions she had bought... even with the new scars from the dragonfire, Rhiannon thought that perhaps she might even look beautiful.

“Well, show us then – have you found one?” Sirius inquired from outside, every bit the impatient father. Feeling terribly shy, Rhiannon unlocked the dressing-room door and stepped out into the open, anxiously wringing her hands at her sides as she waited for her fathers’ verdicts.

Rhiannon’s anxiety grew and grew as her fathers remained silent, until Remus took Sirius’ hand and Rhiannon realised there were tears trailing down both men’s cheeks. “Beautiful,” Sirius choked out, sniffling like a sad dog as Remus pulled him into a sideways hug.

Nina poked her head out of her own changing room, and her pupils swallowed up the blue of her eyes as she took in Rhiannon’s appearance.

“You look amazing, Rhi!” Nina exclaimed, stepping out of the dressing room with her hands bunched anxiously in front of her.

Rhiannon blushed, and searched desperately for something else to talk about. “Is that the dress you’re going t’ wear? You look stunning – that sunset colour with your hair and eyes, it’s so pretty,” she replied fervently.

Nina blushed and fidgeted, not looking altogether comfortable in the dress – though Rhiannon had not lied when she told her friend she looked stunning, the sleek cut took advantage of her height and transformed her from gangly to elegant as if by magic itself, and the sunset hue – soft blue at the neck and hem fading through purple to creamy pink through the waist where it was fastened with a gilded belt that offset the mixture of colours – contrasted beautifully with Nina’s wavy copper hair as it tumbled around her shoulders. “D’you think? I like it, but um – it’s sort of, fitted, and that, um – it makes a bulge ‘round my, you know.”

Rhiannon winced sympathetically – Nina didn’t seem to have much of the body dysphoria she got, but she could imagine her friend still felt awkward about having bits stick out where their cis friends did not. “Um – there might be a spell for, you know, tucking it away, Hermione might know something,” she suggested awkwardly.

Sirius grimaced. “Please don’t go experimenting, at least – body magic is delicate. I’d imagine your school nurse would know how to do it – promise me you’ll ask her for help before you try anything, I don’t want you to injure yourselves,” he warned them cautiously.

Both Rhiannon and Nina hurriedly promised they would not try any magic without consulting Madam Pomfrey, and changed back into their regular clothes so that they might pay for their dresses and leave, though they managed to pick up a fair number of other more casual garments, nice shoes and accessories that Sirius was happy to pay for. They stopped at Madam Puddifoot’s teashop for lunch before finally heading back to the castle laden down with bags, and on the way, Rhiannon made up her mind. She had her dress – now she had to ask her partner, and though it made her anxious she knew the time had come to take that next step with Hermione. Luna... that was more complicated, and perhaps she needed to talk with Hermione about that too, but for now...

Rhiannon parted from Nina and scurried back to her dormitory room, where she set her bags away and set more food and clean water out for Chip and Callie, taking time to calm herself as she did so before she left the dormitory. Then, heart in her mouth, she made her way through the lower levels of the castle to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons, where she knocked on the wall and told the first student to pop their head out – Aly Blackwell’s twin sister Hazel, as it happened – that she wanted to speak with Hermione, if she was in. Hazel promised to go and find her, and Rhiannon was left to fret alone in the hallway for what felt like hours until finally the wall slid open again with a horrible scrape and Hermione stepped out into the hallway, feeling her way with her probing cane in the low light of the dungeons.

“Rhiannon, is everything alright? Did you have fun on your shopping trip?” Hermione asked mildly.

Rhiannon swallowed the knot of anxiety in her throat and took a deep breath, putting her words in order in her head. “I – yeah, everything’s alright, I’m... I wanted to know if, if... I wanted t’ ask, if- if you’d want t’ come t’ the ball wi’ me,” she stammered, knotting her hands together in the hem of her sweater. “I like you and, if you still like me, um – I’d like t’ take you as, as my girlfriend.”

Hermione’s breath caught and for a terrible moment Rhiannon thought she was about to refuse. Her probing cane clattered to the ground and she leapt forward, clutching a little clumsily for Rhiannon’s hands until she caught and held them, trembling. “Yes, yesyesyesyes- yes, I’ll be your girlfriend!” Hermione exclaimed fervently, letting go of one of Rhiannon’s hands so that she could flap her own about in eager delight. She stepped forward, and Rhiannon stepped back until her back hit the wall and she could go no further, but for the first time ever she felt excited at the tense sensation of being trapped and stared up at Hermione, wide-eyed in the low light.

And then Hermione’s lips were on hers and her hands in Rhiannon’s short hair. It was clumsy, messy – pure teenaged passion, but all the sweeter for it. Rhiannon wasn’t sure where to put her hands, their glasses got tangled together – but it didn’t matter, she was here with Hermione, her girlfriend, and nothing in the world could take the shine from that.