Content warning: Child abuse, panic, isolation, gender dysphoria, panic attacks, misgendering, transphobia, homophobia, use of homophobic and transphobic slurs, bullying

The incident of the vanishing glass earned Harry her longest-ever spell in the cupboard. She could only wonder what excuses the Dursleys gave her teachers, for when she was let out again the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken half of his thirty-nine birthday gifts; in the case of the racing bike he had also knocked down Mrs Figg as she hobbled down Privet Drive on crutches.

Harry was glad school was over, but there was still no escape from Dudley and his gang. They visited the house almost every day and were quite happy to join in the only sport Dudley enjoyed - Harry-hunting. So Harry spent as much time out of the house as she could, even taking on a holiday job delivering the evening post as an excuse to wander. Her aunt and uncle were far from impressed when they found out, but she got very good at hiding her meagre wages from them and the small things she bought with them. A tube of raspberry lipgloss, a small sewing kit, some new-ish clothes from a local opportunity shop - that might not seem like much to some but to Harry, it was freedom. She didn't have much but she managed to squirrel away what she could buy - a couple of skirts, a sundress, a pair of jeans, three t-shirts, a packet of socks and another of hair-ties and clips, a pair of soft minty green pyjamas with kittens on them and a new pair of sneakers with a design of wildflowers embroidered on the sides - under her mattress.

New clothes and lip gloss – certainly stereotypical, but to Harry it meant brief, precious moments of freedom in her own skin before falling into bed. It meant falling asleep in something that brought her comfort to weather the day ahead, and it meant she made surprising friends in her wanders. An elderly man over on Ivy Close started wearing flowery dresses out to pick up his mail from Harry and commented one time, "It's so nice to see young people shaking things up. Makes a bit more freedom for us who are only young at heart, you know?"

Harry had smiled shyly at that, she hadn't thought of it in that way. Another time the man in question had said he did feel like a man but sparkles and flowers just made him feel good. He started leaving old magazines with tips on how to do hair and makeup in his mailbox for Harry, and though neither of them mentioned it Harry felt for once like she might have an ally.

It was early on a Tuesday morning when the start of any real changes showed itself. This coming school year, Dudley would be attending Smeltings, Uncle Vernon's old private school. Piers Polkiss was to be enrolled there too, while Harry had a place at the local school, Stonewall High. Dudley found this fact endlessly hilarious, but privately Harry couldn't help thinking that a private school for boys sounded like a melting pot of bad attitude and was rather glad she'd be going somewhere else.

Smeltings, being a private school, didn't have uniform shops out in Surrey and so Harry was left at Mrs Figg's while the Dursleys went to London to get Dudley's school supplies. Mrs Figg was far less frustrating than usual, for as it turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and so was much less fond of them than usual. She let Harry watch television and wear makeup in the house, and even offered her a piece of chocolate cake – though it tasted as if she'd had it for years.

Later that evening, Dudley was paraded through the living room in his new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange trousers and flat straw boater hats. They also carried short, knobbly sticks for hitting each-other when the teachers weren't looking. This, according to Uncle Vernon, was intended to be good training for later in life though for Harry, it really only confirmed that Smeltings would be a haven of bullying. Perfect, she thought darkly, for the bully parading around before her. But now she was doubly glad that she'd be sent to Stonewall.