Professor Dumbledore could hardly believe it had already been two whole months since the school year began when he returned to his office after the monthly, early morning meeting with his Professors, which he used to keep an eye on how things were going around the castle.
Aside from the little issue with Professor Snape’s classes, which were now some of the most loved and highest-scoring classes in the school, not one single thing had gone wrong enough to bend his ear. There were no fights, the first and second year students had year-wide average grades far higher than all the higher years, there had been no disasters, no complications… and Madam Pomfrey had commented on being ‘more bored than usual’ up in the Hospital Wing, despite still having Alden in pieces. Only three pieces now- she did good work- but it was looking like reattaching his left knee might be a lost cause, so it might actually just be two pieces, the last being the front half of his right foot- which could be regrown if reattachment failed. The missing fingers on his surviving hand could be healed with a potion once he was awake.
On the other hand, various Professors had also voiced interest in finding out what Snape had done, so they could achieve similar results- but aside from smiling at them, he never answered questions to that end.
There was also, he supposed, the troll that had appeared on Halloween night, just the night before. Professor Quirrell had come running into the Great Hall during the Halloween Feast to inform him it was in the dungeons.
So Dumbledore had secured the Great Hall and sent several Professors out to find it. It hadn’t been long before Professor McGonagall had located and subsequently defeated the troll on the fourth floor- but Professor Snape, who had headed straight to the third-floor corridor to ensure it wasn’t being used as a distraction to take a look at Fluffy, had returned with a more interesting report. Professor Quirrell had attempted to get past him, but been turned away. Why? Had Quirrell run into Voldemort during his year off in Albania?
He didn’t know.
He did know, however, that Fluffy was the giant three-headed dog he had borrowed from Hagrid to serve as the first line of defense in that corridor. Considering its vicious appetite and monstrous proportions, only Hagrid would give a Cerberus- its official species- such a gentle name. Fluffy had been trained to serve as a guard dog before Hagrid had gotten ahold of him, making him an alarmingly effective guardian- though it was also alarmingly easy to get past him… if you knew how. Most people wouldn’t think of playing music for him; singing wouldn’t work, it had to be an instrument.
There were any number of other ways to ‘pacify’ a Cerberus… but that was, by far, the easiest.
But of course, just because the school was functioning smoothly didn’t mean everything was going well. Basically everything other than the school had crashed and burned. The first example to cross his mind was that Dumbledore had yet to locate Harry within the school- and as a matter of fact, as far as the castle magic was concerned, he didn’t even exist. On top of that, none of the Professors had seen the boy, the Sorting Hat had vowed that it had never sorted anyone by that name, and when he’d tried visiting the Dursleys- they were actually at home, for once- it was for them to tell him they didn’t have a nephew, much less one named Harry Potter.
That brought him to the next topic of consternation: All of the sudden, Ginny Weasley was shrouded in mystery. Not through any particular means, though. Some time before, he’d gotten the news that the girl had met some girl in Diagon Alley, by the name of Hailey Potter- who, he had checked, was now the Head Student Instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but couldn’t possibly be Harry. Anyways, according to Molly Weasley’s letter, the girl Ginny had met had been a muggleborn, and they had gotten along like Molly couldn’t believe; Ginny had always been extremely shy, but Hailey seemed to have crashed straight through that.
That aligned with the Castle records. Hailey was a muggleborn- and despite having a name so close to that of Harry Potter, he knew it couldn’t possibly be a name or even sex mistake, because she was just so different from Harry. Harry was pure-blood, coming from a muggle family, and would be largely friendless after being abused for his entire childhood. Hailey, on the other hand, was muggleborn, coming from a muggle family, and Snape had hinted that she might actually have more clout than Bonbon, the student instructor program management team lead, thanks to some sort of impressive talent.
So of course, Hailey and Ginny had started trading letters- they’d become pen pals. Hailey’s snowy owl seemed to be serving them well, but Molly worried about what would happen if it- Hedwig, apparently- grew tired, and needed to rest for a day or two. Dumbledore hadn’t believed that was of any concern, but Molly had been of a completely different mind, especially after Ginny had admitted that they were friends. So she had talked seriously with Arthur about what they’d need to do to afford to get Ginny an owl… only for Ginny to reveal that Hailey had given her a galleon as a sign of their friendship or something; even Molly hadn’t seemed certain. So she’d informed Dumbledore they were going to go spend it on an owl.
The next letter, six days later- it took Errol three days to travel from the Castle to the Burrow, then three more for the return journey- had been just the flap of the envelope. The rest had gotten too soggy on the way and ripped off, lost to who knew where.
The one after that had never shown up. By his understanding from the one after that, Errol must have collapsed on route somewhere. That letter had also contained the name ‘Phoebe’, as if it was someone he knew- Ginny’s new owl, perhaps?
The next letter had revealed that Errol had delivered an envelope flap back to Mrs. Weasley, the rest of his letter having been lost to the rain. So he’d applied an impervious charm to his response… and found out a week later that Errol had returned empty-beaked.
So he’d sent a simple response, applied an impervious charm to a new letter, and given it to one of the school owls, and sent that… only to hear from Professor Grubbly-Plank, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, a day later that the particular owl he’d sent had limped back with what looked like a bullet wound, and was being nursed back to health.
So he’d arranged for a visit… but Ginny had been so shy she’d stayed locked up in her room for the entire visit- Dumbledore never got to see her, not even once- and Molly broke off a lot in the middle of sentences, seeming suddenly confused. When he’d spoken with Arthur, he’d gotten a similar spectacle. Arthur and Molly both seemed to think it was unusual, and were quite frustrated. The next letter Molly had sent him, with Errol, arrived in good condition- and explained that, after she’d spoken with Arthur, they’d concluded that it seemed like some force was trying to block them from discussing Ginny’s pet, or the party.
When he’d asked what party, he’d received an envelope flap.
So he’d visited again, and informed Molly of the flap… and Molly had informed him that they’d held a birthday party for one of Hailey’s friends… but that any description of it, specifically to him- they could talk to Ginny, or each other, or to Bill and Charlie (who had been present) about it all day- seemed to result in failure, through either delivery failure or sudden confusion.
She had, however, been able to inform him that Draco Malfoy had been in attendance.
The boy that was supposed to be Harry’s arch-nemesis… and had been sorted into Gryffindor, made a few good friends (which included Ginny Weasley, apparently), and became a Student Instructor.
Overall, no matter how smoothly things were going inside the Castle… even the bits of his plan that had survived the rapidly increasing numbers of students were useless. His best bet was to try to get to the bottom of whatever magic was trying to hide Ginny and her probably-not-owl pet from him.
He wasn’t having any luck.
A clock chimed somewhere. He sighed; it was time for breakfast.
Professor Dumbledore performed a spit-take, spraying pumpkin juice all over his eggs and bacon.
A phoenix had just appeared in a burst of flames… and it definitely wasn’t Fawkes; today was Fawkes’ burning day, so he was currently flightless. Nevermind that this bird looked a lot… sleeker than Fawkes did- was it, perhaps, female?
It dropped a note on his sausage, then swooped down to steal some bacon from the serving platter before vanishing in a fresh burst of flames.
The Great Hall held its breath for several seconds.
Finally, Dumbledore unfolded the note… to find a strange, unfamiliar script, that he could somehow understand anyways- even though a tap of his wand confirmed there wasn’t any magic on it.
He read the message.
The door on the third floor corridor is open.
He stared at it for a second, then shuddered.
There was only one conclusion to be drawn: The Royal that had derailed the Hogwarts Express… was also a Phoenix-bound, and was informing him that Fluffy had been scoped out by his enemy during the night, without a distraction such as the troll; Snape had guarded it, and ensured it remained locked, through the entire troll incident.
He passed the note silently to Professor McGonagall, seated next to him, and resumed his meal.
Ginny,
It’s been a little while, hasn’t it? How have you been? Anyways, there was apparently a troll somewhere in the school during dinner last night. Dumbledore secured the Great Hall for us and sent the teachers to find it- and it was found and defeated without incident. Still, though, it makes me wonder how it got in. Any ideas?
To top it off, this morning, the door to the third floor corridor Dumbledore announced out-of-bounds was ajar. When I peeked inside, there was a giant three-headed dog standing on a tradoor, and some small bloodstains on the floor near the door. It looks like someone tried and failed to get past it, but there’s not nearly enough for a mortal wound, and nothing to suggest they were lifted elsewhere or even swallowed whole. Though I suppose it COULD have been a mortal wound… if they were about half Professor Flitwick’s size, which would put them at three years old. I did notice that Professor Quirrell seemed to have a bit of a limp today, too. Do you know anything about that creature or what it might be guarding?
Before you ask, yes, I closed the door. Then had Philomena take a note to Dumbledore, penned in a language I didn’t know I knew, with the express purpose of making my handwriting unrecognizable. He was at breakfast, so Philomena seized a snack while she was at it.
In other news, there was a huge craze about a Phoenix-bound Royal today, not sure why. It was fun to participate in the search that followed- but Philomena stayed hidden, so they didn’t find anything. Dumbledore also took the opportunity to ask the school to report any sightings of a boy named Harry Potter. I don’t remember seeing anyone of that name anywhere in the castle- any ideas where he might be found?
Hailey.
Hailey,
If two days counts as a while after our Halloween visit, yes. I’ve been the same as usual- research, play with Phoebe, another crystal popped out of my hand today, you know. By the way, any ideas what to call it? At the moment, all I can really do with it is make metals and fabric. I’ve found that the stuff from the white metal takes dyes really well, but I’d rather keep some available for more science, so I haven’t remade any of my wardrobe from it.
To answer your question… trolls are really stupid. Hogwarts might not be built for defense, but it’s still not someplace you can just waltz into- especially if you happen to be a troll; it must have had inside assistance.
Wait, there was a corridor announced out of bounds? When did that happen?
But I can definitely see it being announced out of bounds if there’s a Cerberus there… that’s what your description sounds like. They’re extremely vicious monsters that can very quickly kill an unprepared wizard, though they can be pacified very easily… I forget how. It seems right up Hagrid’s alley- he’s the half-giant gamekeeper living in a hut on the grounds, and if it’s his, it’s probably got an innocent pet name. He never did seem to have the same understanding of danger as anyone around him.
Professor Quirrell had a limp? Did he get it from fighting the troll, or from that Cerberus?
And who is Professor Quirrell, anyways?
As for what it’s guarding, if you’re right and it was stationed there to guard something… no idea. Dumbledore undoubtedly has a lot to hide, and I can’t see him letting just anyone hide something in his school.
So Dumbledore’s starting to get desperate, is he? And of course, he still doesn’t know that Harry Potter doesn’t exist and indeed never did. Instead, YOU do. As I recall, your parents told the world you were a boy, because they wanted to protect you.
Ginny.
Ginny,
Good question. Perhaps… Programmium? Transformium? Clothium? Fabricite?
Yes, the third floor corridor on the right hand side. Dumbledore announced it out of bounds ‘to all who do not wish to die a very painful death’ immediately after the Welcoming Feast. I think Fluffy explains that pretty well, doesn’t it?
Yes… Fluffy. That’s the Cerberus’ name, and yes, it belongs to Hagrid. That was a fun meeting- we just ran down and visited him in his cabin, as if we were friends, and… I think he’s starved for friends, or something, because he was more than happy to let us in and enjoy a good conversation. Especially when, halfway through, I mentioned the Cerberus and voiced interest in it as a creature rather than what it was guarding- that was definitely his soft spot. He willingly told us that he lent Fluffy to Dumbledore to guard the-
He cut himself off right there. When I expressed curiosity, he said it was between Professor Dumbledore and someone named Nicholas Flamel, who he wasn’t all that interested in talking about. Judging by Dumbledore’s chocolate frog card, though, the relationship between the two men was essentially “their work in alchemy” and was quite noteworthy. Do you know something about that?
In other news, Professor Quirrell. If he got that limp from the troll, he would’ve lost a leg to it instead, and magic scans show tooth marks in his leg.
As for who he is, Professor Quirrell is the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor… this year. I’m told the position has had someone new in it every year for the last forty years, so nobody expects him to last very long. If I’m being honest, my hopes for him aren’t even that high- his classes feel too much like they’re being taught by a squirrel. I mean it, there has yet to be a class where we learned anything; we’ve had to research our own material for every class so far. After the first five such lessons… I read the entire library, traveled to Diagon Alley, and read the entire bookstore. That’s at least allowed me to find new, grade-appropriate material very quickly and easily… even if it means the upper year students- through fourth year, right now- have started asking me for help when they’re stuck. They don’t know why I know so much, they only know that my knowledge is ‘inexhaustible’, to put it in one eloquent girl’s words.
I’ve also now been jokingly called a ‘sufferable know-it-all’, as opposed to an insufferable one.
Oh, so you already know my parents telling the world I was a boy, do you? Interesting. I wonder how long Dumbledore’s going to be looking for.
Hailey.
Ginny stared at her letter for several seconds after reading it.
“What?” Molly asked.
She shook her head. “N-Nothing,” she stuttered, folding the letter and pocketing it for later. One glance up told her that answer wouldn’t do, though. “It’s just… some of the things going on at Hogwarts are just…” She shrugged.
She needed to get to her room to properly analyze the letter and formulate her response- but first, she’d have to finish her breakfast.
Perhaps… Programmium? Transformium? Clothium? Fabricite?
Ginny giggled as she scanned down Hailey’s proposed name for the Astrium crystals. They were funny, certainly, and-
She froze. The… Astrium crystals. She hadn’t just come up with that- she’d only been contemplating how funny Hailey’s suggestions were. If she had decided to name it in accordance with muggle standards… it probably would have been ‘Weasleyum’ or ‘Ginnyite’. But Astrium? Where had that word come from? And why was she so certain it was correct?
That the crystal lying on her desk, still where she’d left it four days before, was Raw Astrium.
That the basin next to her desk- which was shorter than it had once been, as she’d reclaimed the top after the water level had been reduced by fabric production- was made of Tempered Astrium… though she could swear she had never tempered it.
That the shiny gold metal that plated the Tempered Astrium flowers that went with her dress robes… was Forged Astrium, though she definitely hadn’t worked it with a forge.
That the white, cotton-like fabric was Tempered Astrium Weave. The blue silk was Raw Astrium Weave. The… tough stuff, made from the Forged Astrium, was Forged Astrium Weave.
She also knew that she’d made the weave by bonding the base Astrium with hydrogen- the bubbles weren’t steam, nor even hot at all; they were pure, breathable oxygen gas.
But why would soaking a crystal or block of metal turn it into fabric?
She still didn’t know about that.
She shivered. Was something injecting information into her brain? Or was knowing about her Royal Powers… one of her Royal Powers?
She set the problem aside for later. No doubt more evidence would surface later, so there was no point stressing herself out about it now.
She turned back towards Hailey’s letter, and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment.
Hailey,
It’s Astrium. Don’t ask me how I know, because I don’t know that myself, but that’s what it’s called. And no, I still don’t know why making it attack water turns it into fabric.
As for Fluffy… if Nicholas Flamel is involved, it’s got to be the Philosopher’s Stone- a mysterious rock that creates the Elixir of Life and turns any metal into pure gold. The only one currently in existence belongs to him- and on top of that, on the last day of July, someone broke into Gringotts… but didn’t get anything. The spokesgoblin said that the vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day- a level of foresight I would generally only accuse Dumbledore of.
Yes, DADA has had a new Professor every year… ever since Lord Voldemort was refused the position forty years ago, before he ever became Lord Voldemort. That was probably the final straw that caused him to turn irredeemably evil, now that I think about it.
Your solution to his incompetence sounds quite… thorough. It makes me wonder, how long did it take to read every book in Hogwarts and Diagon Alley?
Knowing Dumbledore, he’ll probably keep searching for years, possibly even decades. The man’s alarmingly smart and really good at what he does… but there’s a reason I periodically called him ‘Dumb-bledore’ in my past life. Once he sets his mind to something, only a good hard duel with his greatest enemy can shake him off of it. And even then, sometimes.
Ginny.
Hailey sat up, stretched, and yawned. “Mornin’,” she greeted softly, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.
“Good morning, Hailey, and merry christmas,” Hermione answered, from where her bed was somewhere off to her left.
She shook herself out, then brushed aside the curtain around her bed, climbing out of bed. “Yeah, merry christmas,” she answered.
“So,” Hermione began, gesturing towards the ends of their beds. “How do you want to go about this?”
She looked… then raised an eyebrow. Hermione was evidently referring to the massive mountains of presents; Hermione’s was four feet tall, and composed primarily of what Hailey suspected was books, while Hailey’s was a foot taller but composed of much rounder packages with, she thought, a greater average volume. “Oh my,” she muttered.
“Nobody else seems to have nearly so tall of piles,” Hermione observed. “Maybe it’s because we’re HSIs?”
“Maybe,” Hailey mused. “It also looks like we’ve got a lot of duplicate gifts, judging by…” She sighed. “On Dudley’s last birthday, he had thirty nine presents, but his pile was only three feet tall, on the kitchen table… and one of them had an entire bicycle in it. So, how about we get started- and count them, for curiosity’s sake?”
Hermione nodded. “Yeah, might as well.”
Draco Malfoy heaved a sigh as he settled back down on his mattress. He’d gone to bed early the day before, and as a result, had awoken before anyone else in the boys’ dormitory. He’d used that extra time to quickly hide his mountain of presents within the curtains of his bed, on the end of the mattress. He did not want to show off his noble status and the tidal wave of presents it brought him. He’d also gotten dressed for the day, just in case he found himself running for the Hospital Wing.
His status as a Student Instructor… didn’t seem to help, as far as having too many presents was concerned. His pile was noticeably larger than it usually was back at Malfoy Manor- and when he’d glanced up the aisles, there were present piles of all sizes… but everyone else in the room that he knew was a Student Instructor also had a large pile. Not as large as his, as he was the only noble in the room, but…
That reminded him. The Manor… he’d stayed at the school because he wasn’t ready to face his parents about being sorted into Gryffindor. He knew it was a cowardly decision, and very much not the Gryffindor choice to make. He’d have to deal with it anyways, at some point; after all, he would be going home for the summer in just seven months.
… Seven months.
He had reasoned that he needed the time to come to terms with it himself- he had yet to do that- before he could face his parents about it. He had purposely avoided the topic of his House in all the letters he sent, so they had probably assumed that he was in Slytherin.
He was, slowly, getting used to it. Hailey and Hermione were helping, in that regard, though Ron- a new friend of theirs, and one of his dorm-mates- was still unfriendly to him… sometimes. He was coming ‘round, slowly.
He double-checked that he had everything with him. His presents, his wand… and a little trinket from his trunk, used to check the safety of a present. It looked like a Remembrall with a flat spot- that was to say, it was a small, glass sphere filled with what looked like white smoke… and one face of it was flat rather than round, such that the surface was about half as far from the center as the rounded face elsewhere. If the flat part was touched against a package while it was held firmly by a witch or wizard, it would glow either green or red, based on whether that particular wizard would consider the contents safe- red for danger, green for safe. If it didn’t pick a color, it wasn’t being used properly.
It did, however, have one caveat: Since it used his magic to tell if it was safe or not… it could only warn him of dangers he knew of. As such, before he’d ever gone to Hogwarts, he’d spent almost three years studying a huge long list of things and their magic signatures. Those things ranged from mundane to inconvenient all the way to extremely lethal- but it meant that, on his birthday last June, he’d correctly detected every dangerous package he’d received. Lucius had gone over them as well before he was allowed to open any even of the safe ones, but he’d still detected them himself.
As such, he had… some confidence in himself. He knew there were many dangers he knew nothing of, that could maim or kill him after a green indication- but it was all he had.
He had to risk it, unless he wanted to leave every last present unopened, and appear ungrateful. It was far too easy to spoof a sender, after all- all one had to do was write a different name on the package.
The first package he grabbed… felt a little squishy for some reason, and said it was from Hailey. For some reason, the handwriting didn’t look quite right- but rather than attempting to open it, as much as he expected he’d love anything Hailey or Hermione got him, he held the trinket up to the package… and it glowed scarlet.
He winced, and set it aside. It probably wasn’t from Hailey at all.
The next package was from Silverspoon… and after his SafeT- what the trinket was properly called- glowed green, he opened it to find…
He studied the corked flask of potion, failed to identify it, then looked down to read her note, which had been under the bottle.
Draco,
I heard that nobles in this world tend to get ‘gifts’ that are less than friendly, so I had Bonbon help me make this potion. It’s from my homeland, so even Professor Snape won’t know it- and it’s a powerful protectant. If you drink it, you should be able to shrug off almost any dangerous substance until it wears off after about three hours. It won’t protect you from any such substances you’ve already touched, though, beware!
Silverspoon
P.S. No, this isn’t the only thing I got you. That said, I hope you find this before any of those nasty ‘trap presents’.
He let out a soft laugh. He’d already found a trap present, but… He sighed, inspecting the potion again… and shrugged. It was certainly going to help with his peace of mind. He popped the cork, and drank it empty in a few gulps. He shuddered as the potion flowed through him… then the strange feeling went away, and it was as if he’d never drank it.
“Huh,” he muttered, re-corking the emptied flask and setting it aside with its note before turning to the next package.
This one also proclaimed itself to be from Hailey. What’s more, the SafeT glowed green… so he opened it.
Then he stared.
There was no note.
Instead, he was staring at a black plastic box with a clear plastic lid. Inside, a large, glittering diamond was displayed on a velvet cushion, bracketed in gold with a fine golden chain trailing under a fold in the velvet and suggesting that it was either a bracelet or a necklace.
He stared for almost a full minute, before double-checking the writing on the paper. Yes, it was from Hailey, to Draco- it hadn’t been mis-delivered. So, had the girl addressed it to the wrong person? This would probably look excellent on, say, Hermione… but on him? He was a boy. He had no business wearing jewelry.
But now that it was in front of him… He couldn’t resist. He gently opened the case, then reached down and touched the diamond. It felt cool and… welcoming, somehow, under his fingertip.
So he scooped it out, and lifted it gently free of the box. The chain unwound easily from its storage spot, exposing a significant length- it was definitely a necklace, and it seemed like there was an anti-tangling enchantment on the chain as well, as it untwisted itself like a living thing the moment it was free of its box.
He stared at it, resting peacefully in his hand… then caught the two halves of the open clasp in his other hand, and dropped the gemstone, flipping it upright as he held it by the clasp.
It looked like… Yes. It looked like a simple clasp, where the tiny ball at one end of the chain would fit snugly into a socket at the other and lock firmly into place.
He reached up, sliding the chain around his neck, and snapped the clasp closed behind his neck, allowing the diamond to hang against his chest. He was just too curious how it would feel to wear a necklace.
Right as he drew his hands back forwards, he let out a sudden gasp of surprise as a sudden twisting feeling appeared in his belly. Was this the potion? Or the necklace?
He leaned over forwards, bracing himself on the mattress, as the feeling spread rapidly throughout his body. His robes almost seemed to flutter around his legs, and his arms seemed to grow slightly thinner before his eyes… and a second after it started, the feeling was gone.
All of the sudden… the whole world felt different. Well… slightly. Mostly, it still felt the same- except that there was something funny about his robes around his legs, there seemed to be something wrapped around his upper body, there was something heavy stuck to the back of his head… and was he imagining it, or was the skin on his hands slightly softer and more sensitive than he was used to?
He straightened up, looking at his hand more closely… and froze when something- the necklace, he was pretty sure- felt very strange against his chest. Almost like it was- Was-!
He looked down… and stared.
Then he slowly lowered the hand he’d been inspecting to touch his chest.
It… It was real. He had, somehow, become a girl. And it seemed his early puberty applied even in female form; before, his shoulders had already been widening, and he’d already been getting rapidly taller… but now, he was a girl… and as near as he could tell, quite curvy for his age.
… His? He was a girl now, so his pronouns should change. She was a girl.
Which meant that, as near as she could tell, she was quite curvy for her age.
A shiver of excitement ran down her spine. She’d always dreamed of being able to claim female pronouns… even though genderflipping magic like this simply didn’t exist. It wasn’t possible, as had been proven by some number of ancient, famous magic engineers.
Merlin and the rest of them were evidently wrong.
She lowered her hand a little more, to take the diamond in her hand. The gemstone was warm now, but still felt welcoming- and she instantly knew that it was the necklace that had transformed her, not the potion.
She smiled. She’d known she’d like any present Hailey got her… but she hadn’t expected it to be this amazing.
“Hey, Draco?” someone asked suddenly- Ron Weasley. “Presents!”
She froze. He must’ve gotten up when she wasn’t paying attention- had he heard her?
A moment later, Ron ripped open the curtains around her bed… and she let out a squeak of alarm.
Their eyes met.
The silence held for about three seconds.
“Uhh… who are you?” Ron asked, evidently dumbfounded.
“Uh,” she muttered in response, looking down at the presents… then lifted the diamond necklace off her chest again to show him. “Hailey sent me a necklace.” Rather than her usual rapidly deepening and somewhat gravely masculine voice, her voice was now high, soft, and feminine. It was a good thing she could still hear the snores of the other six boys that had stayed at Hogwarts; nobody else would realize he’d become a girl.
“You’re… Draco?” Ron asked, disbelievingly.
“Yeah,” she answered, swinging the necklace off over her head to show it to him better.
The twisting feeling returned, starting in her gut this time. She braced herself against the bed- and a second later, it was gone, and Ron was staring. When she looked down… her chest was flat again, the weight was gone from the back of her head, her skin was rougher again… Presumably, she’d reverted to her male self.
“... Oh,” Ron muttered.
“Yeah,” she answered- and found herself surprised at how unsettling it was to hear her normal voice once again. She sighed, separated the clasp, and put the necklace back on. The twisting feeling returned for another second- but she was ready for it, so it didn’t bother her as much. “Oof,” she grumbled. “Something tells me I’ll be getting used to that feeling. But yeah, probably the best present I’ve ever gotten.” She lifted the gemstone to look at it once again, then smiled at Ron.
Ron shrugged. “Just don’t ask me to wear it,” he told her, then looked down, while she turned back towards her pile. “Oh, another one from- GAH!”
She whipped around in response to his half-alarmed, half-pained cry. He’d found- and opened- the package she’d set aside earlier as dangerous… and now, it had attached itself to his left hand and was spraying him in the face with a smelly green liquid, his hand already completely covered.
It took her only a moment to recognize it.
It was undiluted Bubotuber Pus… a great potion ingredient, and when diluted, a great cure for acne- but this was undiluted, so it was causing a carpet of bright yellow boils to sprout all over Ron’s skin wherever it had touched.
She reached forward and wrenched the package free of his hand with her left, getting sprayed for her trouble- but it didn’t seem to bother her. A second later, her right hand had found her wand, and she whipped it around, spitting out a mouthful of pus. “Evanesco!”
The package, and all the pus, vanished in the blink of an eye… leaving her skin smooth and unblemished. Somehow, she knew it was the necklace which had protected her, not the potion.
“Ron!” she cried. She scrambled out of her bed, struggling a little with her robes; her legs seemed to have gotten tangled up in them somehow. She managed it, though- and once on her feet, she wrapped one arm around Ron. “C’mon, let’s go find Madam Pomfrey.” Tucking her wand into an inside pocket of her robes, she then guided Ron from the room.
As she went, there was an odd feeling of fabric swirling around her legs. Did that mean…? Yes, there was only one thing that could mean, wasn’t there?
She was wearing a skirt.
And for as strange as it felt… she found that she was enjoying it.
Once they had left the Gryffindor common room and entered the silent corridors between it and the Hospital Wing, she let out a sigh. “Ron… you should know. I’m a Noble- and while that does mean I get a lot of presents from people trying to earn my family’s favor… it also means I get a lot of fake presents, like that one, from people that want to hurt me. It wasn’t really from Hailey.” She sighed again. “I’m sorry. But please beware of that, and don’t ever try to open any of my presents, okay? I have a way to detect those so-called ‘bombs’, but you don’t.”
Ron only moaned. She winced; enough of the pus had gotten into his mouth that his tongue was probably too swollen to speak.
“Magical Me again,” Hermione observed calmly, standing up to set the gleaming book she’d just unwrapped on the stack of matching books. “This ‘Lockhart’ fellow must be pretty popular.”
“I think… Yes. This one’s got the largest number of packages of Bertie Bott’s so far, at twelve.” Hailey tossed a small armload of large bags up to the top of the mountain that sat on the floor next to her bed. “That makes two hundred gifts comprised of about eight hundred packages of jellybeans…” She paused, ripping open another package to reveal a half-dozen more bags, one of which she turned over. “I wonder if they expire?”
“With magic to preserve them?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. “I doubt it.” She paused. “Um… This one feels like there’s something sloshing around inside it.”
Hailey looked up. “Oh?” She scowled. “Hmm. Here, have a Blessing of Safety, just in case.” She waved her hand in Hermione’s direction.
Hermione giggled, then opened the package… only to get sprayed in the face with a smelly green liquid.
It didn’t make it to her face, though. It curved sharply to the side inches away from her nose and splattered against the bed.
“Yeech!” she screeched.
Hailey looked- then, quite suddenly, both the offensive package and all the liquid had vanished into thin air. “Good thing I gave you that blessing,” she observed. “My guess would be that that was Bubotuber Pus- and that stuff can do funny things to the skin when undiluted.” She scowled. “Probably some idiot trying to get you hurt.”
“Y-Yeah,” Hermione stuttered, breathing hard. The sudden spray may not have actually touched her, but it had scared her half to death. “Yeah, probably.” She paused. “So, um, what did you do with it?”
“I sent it straight to Hell,” Hailey answered, then smiled at her. “Apparently, I can do that.”
Hermione sighed, and ripped open another package, trying to take her mind off the pus. “One, two, three… Yep. Another full set of Lockhart books.” She stood up to add the books to their piles.
Then Hailey paused, feeling a package. “That’s… not pus, is it?” Hermione asked.
“Nah,” Hailey answered. “No sender listed on the wrapping, and it feels like cloth inside.” She shrugged. “Well, if I can send pus to Hell, I can probably send a hostile cloak there too.” She ripped the package open… and a mass of silvery fabric flowed out of it.
Hermione looked. “Ohh, what’s that?”
“Donno,” Hailey answered, plucking a note from among the folds. “Was my father’s… about time it was passed on to me… Dumbledore’s handwriting, but no name.” She set the note down, then stood up, shaking out the silvery fabric. “Oh, that looks familiar,” she observed.
“Is that an invisibility cloak?” Hermione asked.
“Looks like it,” Hailey agreed, before tossing it around herself. Sure enough, she disappeared, from the neck down. “Yep. And if it was my father’s…” She sighed.
“That’s well beyond the expected lifespan of any invisibility cloak,” Hermione agreed.
Hailey nodded. “Which means it’s probably some kind of artifact, or perhaps one of ridiculously good quality, the sort that nobles might kill to get their hands on.” She sighed. “Disappointing, really.”
“Disappointing?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow as Hailey whipped the cloak off again and bundled it up in her hands.
She shrugged. “Yeah. Disappointing that they’d kill to get their hands on it.”
A sudden burst of flames appeared next to Hailey, quickly resolving itself into a young phoenix with a package.
“Well hello there, Phoebe,” Hailey greeted, as Ginny’s phoenix dropped the package into Hailey’s lap and swooped around to land on the mattress next to Hailey.
The phoenix crooned gently.
She chuckled. “Does Ginny have you playing delivery girl?” she asked.
Phoebe trilled with unmistakable laughter.
Draco let out a soft sigh as she half-walked, half-pranced back towards Gryffindor Tower. Her trip to the infirmary with Ron had gone well; Madam Pomfrey had informed them that she had a medicine that would be effective, but it would take a few hours to correct the damage, so Ron would probably be leaving her care again around lunchtime.
Even so, as she had started her journey back to the Tower, she’d found herself luxuriating in the feel of the fabric swirling around her ankles, in the slight bounce in her chest whenever she took a step, in the feminine sound of her voice… in the lack of an extra appendage between her legs to get in her way. She’d even caught herself humming a couple of times!
She paused when she spotted the door to a girl’s bathroom… then went inside, not to relieve herself, but to use the mirror. A quick glance down the aisle revealed that all the stall doors were ajar, meaning there wasn’t anyone else in the room, so she danced straight up to the mirror to find out what she looked like.
She was… She was…
She decided that, if she was being critical… she was basically the epitome of cuteness. Her eyes shone with excitement, her face twisting further and further into a wild smile as she watched. Her hair- this was the first time she was seeing it- was a bright silver with royal blue stripes splitting it neatly into thirds… and it was so long that it hung out of sight behind her back. When she reached one dainty hand back to pull it over a shoulder, it was to find out that her hair was right about long enough for her to sit on, and also both gently wavy and wonderfully cohesive, giving it the appearance of liquid metal.
She flung her hair back over her shoulder, scattering glittering fragments of light all across the room, and looked down at her own neckline… and below.
Her body looked… petite, if that was the right word: Small, dainty, and soft. Her hands were similar- small and soft… though when she clenched them into fists, her muscles bulged. And when she lifted her shirt… she didn’t only find the black undergarment she didn’t know the name for, wrapped around her breasts… but she also found out that she apparently had six-pack abs, something she’d never had even as a boy!
The necklace, she decided, added the perfect accent, hanging neatly between her breasts, the chain cutting in between her Gryffindor patch and her Student Instructor badge… and her nameplate.
Her nameplate… which was blank.
Weren’t they enchanted to always display their owners’ name? So why didn’t it show ‘Draco Malfoy’? That was her name, wasn’t it?
Then she blinked. ‘Draco’ wasn’t exactly a girl’s name, was it? And was her surname going to appear on it as well, once he had a girl’s name?
She stared at the mirror, running her eyes over her face again. Her cute, very huggable- in her opinion at least- face. Her dainty jawline, her gleaming blue eyelashes. Her bright blue eyes, her very feminine hairline. Her bright, silver hair…
“Silver,” she muttered softly, as if trying it out. She looked herself up and down again, then suddenly remembered her sudden propensity towards song. “Silver… song,” she muttered, then smiled. “Silversong,” she told the mirror, then nodded. “I think I like that. Silversong.”
Her nameplate suddenly glowed softly… then, before her very eyes, the name ‘Silversong’ appeared on it, with no surname. The glow finally went away, and she gave the mirror a manic grin before resuming her trek to Gryffindor Tower.
Silversong stopped about one corner away from the Portrait Hole, looked both ways down the passage… and slung her necklace off, over her head. The twist returned, and she braced herself against the wall.
When it went away… she felt off again, the same off she’d felt for most of her life.
She grinned, checking to make sure she had reverted as thoroughly as she expected. At least now she knew what was off.
She noticed that her nameplate had returned to saying ‘Draco Malfoy’, alongside the return of her… male parts.
She tucked the necklace into an inside pocket in her robe and marched importantly back up to the Portrait Hole. “Pig snout,” she told the Fat Lady, in her pink silk dress.
Her portrait swung forwards, revealing the passage back into the Gryffindor common room- which Silver then stopped halfway across, looking to the side, where Hailey and Hermione were waiting.
She turned and walked over to them. “So,” she began, once again unsettled by her male voice.
“So,” Hailey answered promptly.
“Where did you get it?” he asked.
“I found it in a shop.”
Hermione blinked. “Huh? What?”
Hailey held up one finger.
“Why?” Silver asked.
Hailey shrugged. “I thought you might like it. Why else?” She paused for a second. “And, ah, have you finished opening your presents?”
“Not yet,” she answered.
“You might want to,” Hailey told her, leaning back casually. “I just finished unwrapping about a ton and a half of Bertie Bott’s.”
“I’m now the owner of two hundred eight copies of Magical Me by Gilderoy Lockhart,” Hermione supplied sourly. “And I don’t care what the public thinks, but the covers are a self-obsessed insanity. Those books have one purpose and one purpose only: To make him popular.” She heaved a sigh. “I daresay he was successful- he is a celebrity- but I expect it’s all talk.”
“There are about twelve points of chronological conflict between the various books,” Hailey agreed calmly, “and a couple of the books even contradict themselves. They’re too consistent for a total fabrication, though- at least some of that stuff probably actually happened… though perhaps not quite the way he describes it.”
It was approaching breakfast time when Silver later joined Hailey and Hermione on their way out of the Portrait Hole towards breakfast; she’d spent the time between sitting on her bed, as a girl, opening her presents. Some of them had been decent, but most of them were the usual fare… and there had been more ‘bombs’ than usual, too.
It took Hailey about two minutes to guide them into an empty classroom and close the door. “So, do you like it?” she began, looking at Silver.
Hermione looked curiously between them.
Silver, meanwhile, drew the necklace from the pocket she was storing it in; she’d made sure to turn herself male again before showing herself. “No,” she declared, watching Hailey as she quickly snapped the clasp shut behind her neck.
Hermione’s confused expression, with one eyebrow raised, quickly morphed into one of shock and surprise as Silver felt her gut twist again- that familiar twist that she was already starting to get used to. She barely stumbled at all- and when it finished, she was a little bit shorter than Hailey rather than taller, but ignored it and put her hands on Hailey’s shoulders anyways. “I love it,” she corrected Hailey, before wrenching her forward and into a hug. She felt so much like she was trying to hug her mother.
Hailey laughed, returning the hug. “I’m glad you like it,” she teased.
Silver pulled back. “No,” she commanded. “I don’t like it. I love it.” Then she grinned, and giggled. “So.” She allowed the hug to finally break apart. “Where did you get it?”
“I found it in a shop,” Hailey told her, while Hermione slowly recovered.
“As if,” she barked.
Hailey chuckled. “Well, alright. I enchanted it myself. But I did find it in a shop- a muggle shop, to be specific.”
“Won’t that get you in trouble for misuse of muggle artifacts?” Silver answered promptly.
Hermione let out a snort of laughter, making Silver jump. “I’d like to see them try,” she observed darkly.
“Uh- okay,” Silver muttered, then looked back at Hailey. “So… The magic to change someone’s sex doesn’t exist and is actually impossible,” she told her. “So where did you get it?”
“Merlin was wrong,” Hailey informed her calmly, “it’s perfectly possible.” She paused. “Though yes, I didn’t exactly enchant it with the kind of magic he’s used to, did I?” She chuckled. “I mean, I used my Royal Powers.”
“You’re telling him?” Hermione asked curiously. “Er- her, sorry.” She smiled apologetically at Silver, who waved it off.
“Yes,” Hailey answered. “I figure, why not?” She looked back at Silver. “Yes, I’m a Royal. And if you tell anyone, I will cheerfully silence you in any way I need to.” She gave her a quick, stern look, before breaking back out in a grin. “So, I notice you’ve already picked a name.”
“Uh-!” Silver glanced down at her chest, and blushed. “Y-Yeah, I have, haven’t I?”
“And that’s nothing short of adorable,” said another voice- as Bonbon appeared out of thin air, removing an invisibility cloak.
Silver let out a shriek of combined surprise and alarm. Neither Hailey nor Hermione seemed surprised by it, though.
Bonbon chuckled, then glanced at Hailey. “You do good work, Hailey. She looks quite natural.” She smiled.
Hailey shrugged. “I mean, there’s gotta be a reason the local deities think I’m an ancient goddess,” she agreed- then, after a pause in which all three girls looked at her, she smiled. “And no, I can’t tell you who they are. It’s a divine secret. And I only know who three of the four are anyways.”
“Alright,” Bonbon nodded slowly. “I… can’t say that surprises me, actually. It would certainly explain the power and versatility of your powers.”
“Though of course, if we’re right, we have no idea what my aspect might be,” she mused.
“Ahh,” Bonbon nodded, then turned to Silver. “You seem to be enjoying your new feminine side,” she observed.
“New?” Silver asked, her gaze snapping away from Hailey. “Whoever said it was new?” She paused, briefly. “I, er, always felt like something was wrong.”
“To the point that, when Hailey asked on the train if you’d rather be a secret agent, magic engineer, schoolteacher, or housewife, you asked for all four, right?” Bonbon asked.
She blinked. “Uh-!?”
Hailey chuckled. “That was the first clue, yes. Asking Ginny to dress you up too on Hermione’s birthday also wasn’t exactly… subtle.”
She let out a sigh. “Oh alright, you’ve got me. I’ve… I guess I’ve kinda always been a girl on the inside.”
Bonbon chuckled softly. “Anyways, if you’d like, it shouldn’t be too hard to fire Draco from his Student Instructor position, and hire Silversong in his place.”
“... Huh?”
Hailey giggled. “Fancy words for ‘we can let you attend Potions as a girl’,” she informed her. “You’d have to be ready to commit to it for the rest of the year, though- we won’t be able to justify going back.”
“... Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Yes, definitely! I mean, please do that, yes!”
Bonbon laughed. “Alright, consider it done. Just make sure you attend Potions as Silversong- both in Professor Snape’s lesson and in your own with Silverspoon- and I’m also going to ask that you don’t display your Instructor badge while in form as Draco.”
“While in form as Draco,” she muttered, scowling.
“Unfortunately, switching Draco out for Silversong in all your other classes is something we really can’t justify without telling people who you used to be, so it’s not an option.” She smiled. “I would personally recommend telling Silverspoon, and possibly even showing her the transform; that would help you two to avoid unnecessary confusion as an Instructor Team, and we’ve already confirmed she’ll keep the secret.” She paused, briefly. “As a matter of fact, she already knows there’s a secret to be kept, though we haven’t told her what it is- and won’t, that’s for you to decide.”
“Uh- okay,” Silver muttered, clasping her hands over her belly and looking at the floor. “That’s… Hmm. I’m going to have to think on that one.”
Bonbon nodded. “Alright. Have a good rest of your holidays, Silversong. It shouldn’t be too hard to cover Draco’s sudden absence from the passages.” She waved… and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Silver turned straight to Hailey. “Why did you tell her?” she asked.
Hailey shrugged. “She helped me procure- and select- the necklace once I told her what I wanted to do with it,” she answered simply.
“... Ahh.”
“And you may have noticed, it’ll change your clothes too- though only the ones you’re wearing, and only for as long as you’re wearing them. Extra articles, like the bra, will just… pop out of nowhere.”
She looked at her. “What’s a bra?”
“It’s that thing you’re wearing under your shirt, up around your breasts,” Hermione informed her, using her hands to indicate an invisible band around her own chest.
“... Okay.”
“And if you remove it by the clasp, you won’t change back,” Hailey informed her, with a smile. “The transformation is technically permanent, after all.”
She blinked. “Meaning- meaning I can take it off…” She reached up to undo the clasp behind her neck, then held the necklace in front of her and looked down. “Huh.” She put it back on. “But why would I want to do that?”
“In case you wanted to sleep as a girl,” Hailey answered cheerfully, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “A necklace isn’t very comfortable in bed.”
She felt the heat rush to her face, but dove forwards to hug her again anyways.
Hermione chuckled. “I take it you’ll be wearing it over the summer, then.”
Her face heated up even further, to the point that it felt like it was going to catch fire. “Uh-!” she began, thinking about it… then stopped. “... Dad’s going to be in for a surprise.”
They all burst into laughter.