Hogwarts Reimagined

Just as he had promised, Remus apologised profusely to the class and continued lessons on werewolves for damage control. The full moon passed uneventfully, with both young werewolves taking the time to gambol happily in the new snow that fell on the eighth, around a week from the final match just as Ginny had predicted it would. In her free time, Rhiannon flipped through catalogues half-heartedly looking for a new broomstick. There were much newer Nimbus series brooms by now, she could have one of those... or the new Cleansweep, if she wanted a change. But she didn’t want a change. She wanted her old broom back.

Rhiannon’s friends wouldn’t let her sulk. They exchanged Yule gifts early, with promises to save them for the actual day and to send letters when they did. Hermione would be staying with her family for the holiday, to rest and recover together after their shared ordeal the year before, while as planned Remus would be visiting the Lovegood home with Rhiannon and Dudley. To Rhiannon’s surprise, Neville asked to join them on Christmas Day – it turned out that Remus was the werewolf family friend he had mentioned at the beginning of the year before. So with holiday plans in place, Rhiannon and her friends piled onto the Hogwarts Express on the 13^th of December, for the very long trip home. Rhiannon sandwiched herself awkwardly in between Hermione and Lunaand, still thoroughly worn out from the full moon that had ended only two nights before, leaned over to nap with her head on Hermione’s shoulder while her legs ended up draped across Luna’s lap

“Hey, sleepyhead, this is my stop,” Hermione whispered. Rhiannon grumbled her way into wakefulness to find the carriage dark and Hermione shaking her shoulder.

“Wha?” Rhiannon mumbled blearily, struggling to pull herself upright. In her sleep she’d managed to sprawl out across the carriage bench and her neck had a crick in it from where she’d slipped off Hermione’s shoulder and ended up squished between Hermione’s back and the back of the seat. Hermione giggled and helped Rhiannon up, then patted her shoulder comfortingly as she stood and straightened her clothes.

“This is Kings Cross, I get off here. Have a good holiday, Rhi. And, uh – all of you.” Hermione explained, shifting awkwardly before shaking her head and leaving hurriedly. Ron snickered, and Rhiannon shifted so she was leaning against Luna’s shoulder with her legs up on the bench seat in the space Hermione had left.

“You’re really cuddly lately, Rhi, anything going on?” Ron teased her. Rhiannon turned her head to the side and glared at him, which only made him grin and reach out to prod her with his foot. Had she been in wolf-shape, Rhiannon would have flattened her ears and growled at him, as it was she hissed and kicked his foot away.

“Yeah, I- I just spent the last f-f-f-five nights with my bones and joints shifting all out of place and getting absolutely no sleep, excuse me for wanting to be close to people now I’m not in danger of turning them via acc-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-idental slobber,” Rhiannon retorted sleepily. She curled back up on the bench seat with a final scowl directed at Ron, snuggled into Luna’s shoulder and soon fell back to sleep.

When Rhiannon next woke, it was Luna nudging her. “Okay, this time it’s our stop,” he murmured. With Ron’s help she got Rhiannon standing, and the two of them helped her off the train while Ginny did the same for Dudley. They met Remus at the edge of the platform and with his help, pushed their way through the crowd to where Xenophilius waited for them against the wall. His face lit up when he saw them, and he embraced them one by one. When he came to Remus, he frowned and peered closer at the man’s worn face. Drawing his wand from his pocket, he lit it with a muttered incantation and shone it in Remus’ eyes. Remus swore and flinched away, but whatever he’d seen had clearly confirmed something for Xenophilius and he hugged Remus tightly.

“You’re not taking care of yourself,” he scolded Remus. “Your eyes don’t reflect, you’re suppressing the bleedthrough somehow... how can you even see, it must be hell on your vision!” Xenophilius continued to chide Remus as he drew away from the hug and held him at arms length, still inspecting him closely.

Remus spluttered and batted Xenophilius’ probing hands away. “I’m fine, Xen, leave off!” he protested unconvincingly. Xenophilius harrumphed disbelievingly and drew the familiar knotted rope from his pocket, holding it out for the four of them to take. “You’re still at it with the illegal Portkeys, Xen?” Remus quipped. To Rhiannon’s surprise, Xenophilius stuck his tongue out at Remus and the two laughed like the old friends they were.

“You know perfectly well I don’t have the concentration for side-along Apparation, since you tried to coach me through the test yourself,” Xenophilius retorted. “If the Ministry actually cared about people, they’d make Portkeys more accessible. Since they don’t, I’ll make my own access.” he grumbled, and pressed the rope into Remus’ hands. Rhiannon snickered to herself, enjoying this side of her foster-father. Xenophilius turned his mock-disapproving glare on her instead and passed her a knot of the enchanted rope. “Oh, don’t you laugh at me, daughter dear, I’m allowed to have friends,” he grumbled, but it was only playful. “Now, everyone got a hold of their pets? Trunks are roped up, so hang on and we’ll get going.”

Rhiannon tightened her grip on the rope and nodded tensely, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the horrible tangle of sensations that would assail her as she was pulled through space. The first trace of it was a tug behind her navel, and then suddenly she was whirling through space with the rope and the handle of Callie’s crate digging into her hands, her eyes clenched tight against the swirling images as the remains of her lunch surged awfully in her stomach. The trip from London to rural Dorset was a long one, but over unnaturally quickly, leaving her swaying on her feet and unsteady in the pebbles of the garden path.

“All right, Rhi?” Luna asked softly, stepping in closer to hold Rhiannon upright. Rhiannon nodded blearily, and the two of them limped into the house together. Rather than heading to her room, Rhiannon flopped down on the couch and let her cat out, then patted the couch beside her. Luna flopped down beside her and let Cheshire out of his crate, then leaned over against Rhiannon’s shoulder. “Ron’s right, you really are snuggly lately,” ze murmured, idly stroking the small girl’s messy hair.

“I- I barely get to see you at school, like, you’re there but I-I- I miss you, is all,” Rhiannon replied sleepily. “Is everything alright?”

Luna sighed, and shifted so that Rhiannon could lie back in their lap, her head supported by his arms. “I, guess so?” she said, with a weary shrug. “I don’t know, it’s like – stuff’s okay this year and, I don’t really know how to deal with that. I’m just sort of the weird, queer, tag-along friend. And that feels crap.”

Rhiannon pushed herself upright and leaned against Luna’s shoulder, her arm around xir lower back. She felt a more than a little guilty that she hadn’t realised how Luna had been feeling, that she hadn’t thought to check in. She’d just left them to hang on the edges of the group, talking little and participating even less. That wasn’t fair – that wasn’t a sustainable friendship. “You’re... I’m so sorry. I should have noticed. Can you give me a chance to do better next term?” she asked, looking up to meet Luna’s gaze for the briefest moments. “We can ff-f-ffff-f-find our own thing to do.”

Luna smiled down at her, still aimlessly playing with loose strands of hair. “I- I’d like that,” ze replied quietly. Her pale grey eyes lit up behind the blue-violet lenses of his spectacles and a smile touched the corners of their mouth. “How about... you, me and Dudley, we finish that project for Neville? We’ve got the drawings, we could build it by Yule.” fae suggested.

Rhiannon managed a weary smile in response. “I like that idea. M-maybe, if it goes good, we could – I dunno – do more of it, at school? I bet other people w-w-w-w-o-would love to try enchanting or c-c-c-c-c-craft projects.” she replied, feeling a surge of hope. Hermione liked enchanting too, but she was more into the complex theoretical side. Maybe she’d join them, and all her friends would be right again.

____________________________________________________________________

Along with Dudley, Rhiannon and Luna worked on their project for Neville every spare hour until Yule. Remus and Xenophilius helped fill in the gaps in their knowledge, until finally they were left with a rudimentary communication device. It was made of smooth wood and had a waxy plate-type surface that could be written on and could be erased again with a word, and using a variant of the Read-Aloud charm written into its enchantments, it would speak whatever was written on it. It was clunky, time-consuming and far from the neatest solution, but it was a start and they hoped it would help.

Finally, Yule arrived and with it their chance to present the gift to Neville. He and his grandmother arrived early on the 22^nd, and soon fell to talking about the events of the year so far. From there they progressed on to talking about weird happenings of the year before, and it was only natural that the subject turned to Rhiannon’s fairly glorious screwup with the Polyjuice Potion.

“Excuse me, you brewed what at school?” Augusta Longbottom asked, sounding horrified. Remus looked particularly grey-faced, while Neville’s grandmother glared at the gathered students and at her grandson in particular. “And you were involved in this, Neville?”

Luna winced, while Neville quailed. “In fairness, we were trying to save the school,” Luna replied mildly. “Neville helped us to rule out Draco and figure out what was really going on, the whole thing would’ve fallen through after Rhiannon’s accident otherwise.”

Augusta shook her head, but much like Minerva, she couldn’t quite keep the trace of a smile from her lips and the deep wrinkles around her eyes. “Well, it doesn’t take much to see why you suspected young Master Malfoy... and Polyjuice is beyond O.W.L. level... Your skills are certainly impressive, if not your judgment.” she responded with a faint huff of laughter.

Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. “How did it turn out? I’ve heard a bit about lycanthropy interacting with transformative magic, but nothing firsthand,” he asked, though he sounded like he was afraid of the answer.

Rhiannon, Luna, Dudley and Neville all looked at eachother and burst out laughing. “She was a puppy all month!” Dudley replied, still cackling gleefully. At Augusta and Remus’ bewildered expressions, he elaborated. “Instead of turning into Hayley, the girl who she was supposed to – impersonate – she got kind of stuck half-way. She was sort of half-Hayley and Rhiannon and half-Nyx for a bit until the potion wore off, Nyx, that’s – what she calls the wolf brain, and then she was half wolf for almost a month. Honestly, anyone who thinks werewolves are monsters should’ve seen that, it was – the best thing ever. She went all – snuggly and silly and stuff, and chewed basically everything in the Hospital Wing.”

Rhiannon buried her burning face in her hands to hide from the onslaught of embarrassment as Luna teasingly hugged her around the shoulders and pulled her over sideways against their own side. “Gryffindor was half-tempted to call their team the Wolves this year, after she caught the Snitch in her mouth every practice for a month,” Luna added, and Rhiannon shot a look of utter betrayal at him from where she hid underneath her hair. Everyone, even Augusta Longbottom, chuckled at that and Rhiannon curled up with her face against Luna’s thigh to hide.

“Y-y-y-you were just the same after you were P-p-p-p-petrified!” Rhiannon retorted, though her voice was muffled by her own hair and Luna’s jeans. This time it was Dudley’s turn to flush with embarrassment and hide his face in the crook of his arm, while the others laughed warmly. Luna nudged Rhiannon until she sat up and joined in, as even Neville chortled mirthfully.

“Werewolves and anything that messes up our cycle, be it time or transformation – we don’t mix so well,” Remus said, with a meaningful look over his spectacles at Rhiannon. Unfortunately Dudley, while silly, was not stupid and he caught the look that passed between them with a scowl of his own.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Was Rhi doing something, and that’s why she was turning early?” Dudley asked, fixing both Rhi and Remus with an accusatory glare. Rhiannon winced, and Remus looked decidedly uncomfortable. Luna, on the other hand, just shrugged and squeezed Rhiannon around the shoulders, and eventually Dudley relented. “Fine! Fine, if it’s some big secret,” he grumbled, waving it off with an irritable shrug. “Speaking of big secrets – we worked on this present for weeks so c’mon, Neville, tell us what you think!” he added, as he bent down to fish the parcel out from under the couch. They had wrapped it together in blue-and-gold paper, and tied it with a ribbon in the colours of the trans pride flag that Luna had found for them.

Neville’s eyes went wide and he reached for the parcel with trembling hands, a broad grin spreading over his round face. “Mine?” he slurred, to which they all smiled and nodded. He unwrapped the gift carefully as if afraid to damage any part of it, even the paper. And as he uncovered the tablet inside, his smile spread wider and he ran his hands over its surface with an almost reverent look on his face, while Rhiannon, Luna, Dudley and their guardians all watched him fit together the pieces of what their gift was. He unslotted the stylus from its pocket and handled it wonderingly, then flipped aside the lid that protected the tablet surface and stared at it. “It’s a speaking device,” Luna explained, as Neville looked between them all with a smile so big it could have split his face. “It’ll read aloud whatever you write on it, it can even describe basic drawings with some margin of error. You’ve been kind of, the awkward tag-along friend, forever, and any time you wanted to pitch in it was harder than it needed to be. That’s not fair. That sucks. So uh... to a new year of not being the tag-alongs anymore?” she suggested, his own grin almost matching Neville’s.

Neville’s grey eyes welled up with tears and hereached over suddenly to pull Luna, Rhiannon and Dudley into a fierce hug. All three of them spluttered for breath and when he finally let them go, he reached for his new tablet and scratched on it. “Thankyou,” it said, in the soft, slightly husky Scottish-accented voice of middling pitch that they had given the tablet, based on what little they had heard of Neville’s own voice. At that, everyone beamed, and the conversation from there dissolved into laughter, congratulations and questions about how they’d built the device, with Neville joining in and chattering happily with them for the first time ever. Rhiannon caught Augusta looking at them all with a misty smile more than once, though she hid it whenever she thought anyone was watching her.

Around midday, they were graced with a surprise visit from the Weasleys. Fred and George, Ron and Ginny arrived, accompanied by their father and a stocky redheaded man that Rhiannon eventually recognised as Charlie. He greeted her with a warm grin and the offer of a handshake, which Rhiannon rejected in favour of a hug. He wasn’t as familiar as her usual friends, but the last time she’d met him, he’d been helping save Fluffy’s life and as far as she was concerned, that made him a friend. Besides, today was a good day, she could hug whomever she pleased and damnit, she would too.

“Good to see you, Rhiannon!” Charlie said cheerfully as he extricated himself from the hug. “And – whoo, reflective eyes! Wolf-blood suits you, I can see it in how you stand and move. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything outside of here. There’s a bunch of other weres working at the sanctuary, not just ‘wolves either – tend to be good with the predator types like our dragons and Fluffy. Unfortunately others aren’t so appreciative of your talents, or... anything, really. Rude of them. As if we aren’t all predators simply by nature of being human.” he mused, grumbling to himself. Rhiannon snickered and grinned, amused by Charlie’s wry perspective. He wasn’t wrong – humans were hunters, and most of them a lot better at it than she was herself. And she liked the idea that being this way suited her.

“Hey, Professor Lupin, what are you doing here?” Ginny asked, tilting her head curiously and gesturing to Remus.

Remus jumped and looked guilty, and Augusta scowled at him as if he were a misbehaving child. “Remus is a dear friendof my family, and an esteemed guest,” she replied stiffly, glaring at the inquiring Weasleys as if daring them to contradict her.

Augusta’s sternness would have dissuaded further questions, had Remus not tripped over himself to provide an excuse at the same time. “Oh – Xen’s an old friend of mine from school, he invited me,” he said hastily.

Xenophilius put his hands over his face and sighed in exasperation, as the Weasley children looked from Augusta to Remus in puzzlement. “Smooth, Professor, smooth,” Dudley muttered, earning himself a grin and a swat with a pillow from the man in question.

Augusta merely sighed, and Ginny didn’t bother to question Remus further. Xenophilius, seeing that there was no argument about to burst out, removed his hands from his face and shook himself, putting on a wry smile. Rhiannon empathised with him, she knew he was uncomfortable with crowds and the Weasleys, while as good as family, did tend to be boisterous. “Well, if that’s settled, who wants some tarts while we share gifts?” he suggested, gesturing to the gifts beneath the spindly boughs of the small, living pine planted in a pot and decorated the night before with biscuits, ribbons, wandlights and charms. There weren’t all that many, the Lovegoods being more a family for giving meaningful gifts than many of them. But as Xenophilius made his offer and stood, preparing to fetch the aforementioned tarts from the kitchen, there was a loud clatter at the window and as Rhiannon turned to look, a pair of very disgruntled tawny owls hopped up onto the sill and rapped insistently on the glass. Rhiannon stood and, with the assistance of her cane, limped over to the window to let them in. She stepped back hurriedly as they pushed their way inside, dragging with them a long, unevenly-shaped package wrapped in plain brownish paper tied closed with string. The shape was one Rhiannon would have recognised anywhere, and she reached for it with trembling hands and an expression of absolute wonder. “Who?” she whispered, as she ranher fingers over the wrapping paper, already knowing what inside. Like with a wand, she could feel the magic inside, a stronger magical core even than her Nimbus.Someone had sent her a broomstick.

Rhiannon staggered back to her seat on the couch, clumsily carrying the broom in her free hand. As her friends looked on, she unwrapped it carefully, and gasped at what was laid bare in her lap. “No way,” she murmured, wide-eyed. There on the handle was the name she could have guessed already – Firebolt. The broom she and Ron had admired all those months ago in Diagon Alley. This couldn’t be a surprise gift from her foster-father, he couldn’t afford something like this, nor could the Weasleys. It was unlikely that the gift had come from Minerva either, the Nimbus had been a once-only kind of affair, a way of making up for eleven years of missed birthdays. No way could Remus have afforded this either, even if he did feel some kind of kinship for her – he could barely afford his own Wolfsbane.

“Rhiannon, is that what I think it is?” Ginny asked, leaning in over Rhi’s shoulder to inspect the broomstick lying in her lap. Dudley and Luna were nonplussed, not being much for sports, but the Weasley children drew nearer with wondering expressions and grasping fingers. Rhiannon swatted them away with a glare and a growl as she sniffed and inspected the gift herself. Nothing. No scent she recognised, nothing but the smells of owl and work.

“That’s a Firebolt!” Ron exclaimed, pushing past his sister to gaze in awe at the broom. “Can I – hold it?”

Rhiannon was still turning the broom over, feeling for any sign of damage or sabotage. Still nothing, not the slightest hitch in its magic. “I – I guess so,” she replied awkwardly, and handed the thing over to Ron.

“Oh, we have got to try this thing out,” Ron breathed, inspecting it so closely that his nose almost touched the smooth wood of the handle. Rhiannon giggled, but privately she agreed – she was almost itching to race outside and try out the new, world-class broom she’d been mysteriously gifted.

“Well, that’s not such a bad idea, but how about later? Let’s have some food first and open the rest of these,” Remus suggested, a wry smile spreading over his face. Presumably he knew how difficult it was to rein in excited young werewolves faced with outside time. Both Ron and Rhiannon groaned, but they relented and settled back onto the couches to share gifts and snack food.

Gifts were, as expected, few and meaningful rather than many. New clothes for the growing teenagers, books and small things they had made for eachother. Hermione had made Rhiannon a bracelet that, when the central stud was pressed, played a message in Rhiannon’s voice that explained she couldn’t talk right now and to please give her space. Rhiannon had bought Dudley a magical art kit, with bottles of the potion that made pictures move and other supplies. As usual, Mrs. Weasley had knitted them all jerseys, including Dudley and Luna in her efforts this time, and sent home-made caramel toffee for all of them. And with Remus and the teenagers’ help, Xenophilius had baked Yule treats suitable for werewolves, which everyone fell upon with delight.

Once they had finished, Rhiannon, Ron, Ginny and the twins raced outside to try out the broomstick. Remus puttered out to supervise them, half-suspicious of the mysterious gift but mostly concerned for their safety as Rhiannon climbed aboard the broom and kicked it into a steep climb. Instead of responding smoothly like her Nimbus, the Firebolt shot off as soon as she had thought of the command. Startled, Rhiannon lost her grip and tumbled off to land face-first in a snowdrift. “Damnit,” she muttered, while the Weasleys laughed and helped her pick herself up and shake off the snow and mud that clung to her clothes.

“Maybe try not kicking it?” Ginny suggested with a snicker. “I mean, think of it like a magic horse. Some horses you have to encourage to move, others – if you kick them like that, they’ll shoot right off.”

Ron snorted. “She’s speaking from experience, before you think she’s all-knowing,” he chimed in. Ginny glared at him and aimed a swat at his shoulder, while Rhiannon stuck out her tongue and beckoned her broom back. This time when she climbed on, she considered Ginny’s advice and nudged the broom, rather than badgering it the way she had her Nimbus or the sluggish, worn-down school brooms she’d ridden before. The gentler approach worked, and the broom coasted gently through the air as Rhiannon got used to the feel of it. It had a lot more raw power than the Nimbus, two years ago that would have frightened her. Now, it made her feel powerful, confident even as she descended in a steep dive and slid to a neat halt.

“Alright, who wants a go next?” Rhiannon asked cheerfully, holding out the broom. Ron and Ginny lunged for it, and Ginny successfully seized it from Rhiannon’s with a cry of elation. Rhiannon snorted, and sat back on the ground to rest with Ron and the twins, relaxing as she watching Ginny swoop and soar on the borrowed broomstick. It was a different sort of joy, watching someone else enjoy themselves but she liked seeing Ginny so happy. Liked wasn’t quite the right word, Ginny was like a little sister to her and she loved seeing her having a better year. Despite the sodden cold of the snow, she felt warm inside, resting comfortably against Ron’s shoulder. Now that she’d stopped time-traveling, this year really was a better one. Even a great one. And it was that way for her family, her pack, too. The way it looked, the year could only get better when she returned to school. She’d needed this rest, time to recharge with her family, but now she’d be ready to return and, working within her own abilities, do better than ever before. There were no monsters on the loose save for those on the Ministry’s register, she had a new broom, she’d smoothed things over with Luna, even Mrs. Weasley liked her now and Remus looked at least a little better than he had at the beginning of term. Armed with a Firebolt, a woolly sweater and enough caramel toffee to supply a small army, she’d do just fine when the new term started.