Content warning - bodily dysphoria, specifically body hair, voice and face shape. Brief suggestion of rejection sensitivity dysphoria (RSD)

Rhiannon settled into her new life in and out of the hospital wing with a friend to stay each night. Her permission to attend classes was quickly rescinded when, on attending Professor Lockhart’s lecture about his use of the Homorphus Charm to return a rampaging werewolf to human form, she howled through his speech until he stopped talking and lost his temper with her, then threw her and her helplessly giggling friends out of class entirely. She lost thirty points for Gryffindor and very luckily Lockhart insisted, red-faced, that she was mocking him – else she would have been in more trouble. She was in enough, as her friends hustled her out of the hallway and back to the hospital wing, scolding her the whole way – though their chastisements had little effect, broken up by laughter as they were. Rhiannon’s few Ravenclaw friends had been amused by her mishap, and asked a great deal of questions about how lycanthropy actually worked – it seemed curiosity was the common Ravenclaw trait rather than so much of a scholarly attitude. It was a little disorienting at first but Rhiannon adjusted to the change, and found she didn’t mind having a wider circle of people who knew her secret – though all of them were sworn to secrecy not just by herself but by a very stern-faced Professor McGonagall.

At least she was still permitted to play Quidditch. She had to wear a beanie and hold it in place with the strap of her goggles, and instead of the usual leggings under her tunic and cape she wore baggy pants so she could shove her tail down the leg of one and hope for the best. It wouldn’t have served well if she was in the thick of the game, but high above it as their eagle-eyed – or wolf-eyed, though those were glamoured – Seeker, she did just fine. She had to wear borrowed full gloves to hide her pads and claws. But she managed the sensory hindrances with little more than the occasional sulk, because it was Quidditch, and that was time out of the Hospital Wing and she wasn’t going to jeopardise that.

Outside of Quidditch, things were a little monotonous as February began and the weather lightened into a persistent sullen drizzle. Rhiannon sulked around the hospital wing and did her best to assist Madam Pomfrey with her more regular patients – under physical and magical cover, of course. So when someone started making changes around the school, even Rhiannon – with her limited supply of information – couldn’t help but notice, as students started to flood in with more and more peculiar injuries and accidents.

“Wha’s going on?” Rhi finally asked, as she dabbed salve onto a mortified Neville’s scorched scalp. He blushed to his eartips and shook his head, Madam Pomfrey scowled and swore under her breath.

“That Gilderoy Lockhart, changing things up again,” the nurse grumbled. “Incompetent teachers... there really do need to be some kind of standards, honestly-”

“It’s the Valentines’ celebrations,” Fred piped up from several beds over. He had a blackened eye and a nick in his lip. His brother was sitting in another bed on the opposite side of the room in a similar state, and the two glared at eachother across the wing.

“Oh yes, such an air of romance,” Madam Pomfrey growled, crushing something under her pestle with more force than was necessary. “I’m of half a mind to just let you two sit with those black eyes, you earned them right enough – brawling over who asked out a girl first, how old are you again?”

Both Fred and George looked suitably shame-faced, while Rhiannon burst out laughing. “You- got in a fight, over asking someone out?” she asked through giggles. They nodded, and glared at eachother for another moment.

“Yeah – was dumb,” George replied. “Ange hexed me because I threw a paper plane to ask her out and it beaned her in the cheek, then Fred got on me because I asked her first.”

Luna, who was helping Madam Pomfrey mix salves, snorted and raised an eyebrow. “You do know Angelina is dating Katrina and Alicia, yes?” xe asked them, mild-mannered as ever – which only served to embarrass the boys further.

“Well we know that now,” Fred grumbled. “Like George said – it was a bit stupid, we just got caught up in all the Valentines’ kerfuffle I guess – what with Lockhart putting on that dance on after classes on Valentines’ Day proper.”

Rhiannon perked up at that. A dance? With friends? She turned pleading eyes on a stone-faced Madam Pomfrey, who shook her head. “Someone’s going to ask you to dance and you’ll pull your dress up at the back wagging your tail. Absolutely not.” she said firmly, under cover of a silence ward. Rhiannon drooped, and couldn’t help the little whine that rose in her throat, the perfect picture of utter dejection.

Madam Pomfrey rubbed her temples and muttered something about patience before she returned her attention to Rhiannon. “Fine. If, and only if you don’t get into mischief – and today’s the fourth, so you need to watch it for a good ten days young lady – you can have your friends over for a little dance in here.” she relented, then raised her voice. “That goes for the rest of you – no more trying to charm your hair into shape or hex your spots off, it won’t work. Come to me if you’ve worries or problems, this slew of mishaps has to stop.”

So with that, the hospital wing settled into a very tense sort of peace as the Valentines’ Day dance approached. On the tenth, the monday of Valentines’ week, Rhiannon awoke to find glitter tracked into the ward and everyone chattering about who might receive Valentines’ gifts. This was a new experience to Rhiannon, one that embarrassed her as she received a veritable torrent of well-wishes and admiration in the form of tokens and letters. These were delivered by very grumpy garden gnomes that Lockhart had recruited and forced to wear angel wings, and Rhiannon hid in her bed for the first two days of the week out of sheer mortification.

One Valentine in particular stood out to her, because it was delivered in song form. The voice that sang it was pretty and a little familiar to Rhiannon, but she wasn’t sure who it might have been from – she hadn’t really heard many people sing, and singing voices didn’t match up to speaking voices enough that she could immediately identify them. When the card was delivered and it began to sang, Rhiannon chased the gnome out of her room and slammed the door with a red-faced squeak of thanks, then hid her head under the pillow only half-listening.

Her eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
Her hair is as dark as a blackboard.
I wish she was mine, she's really divine,
The heroine who conquered the Dark Lord.

The poem was simple and clunky, and Rhiannon hid it from her friends so they wouldn’t make fun of it – even if she wasn’t sure she returned the feelings, she felt protective of whoever had written it simply because of how kind they’d been. It was far from the only Valentine she received, and all of them she stored together in her trunk of belongings to look at if her self-esteem was particularly low.

Madam Pomfrey disliked the practice – ‘too much pressure on young minds! The last thing any of you need is to be comparing yourselves to eachother and worrying about who likes who’, she grumbled in passing – but Rhiannon even sent a few Valentines’ cards of her own. She was no artist so they were simple mixtures of colours she thought looked pretty together, with little messages for her friends inside. To Neville – You don’t have to speak for me, you’re brave enough just like you are and your hair is perfectly nice as it is. To Hermione – Your voice sounds nice in your chest and you smell like books and home. I’m glad I met you. For Ron, it was; You’re not stupid like you think, and you’re actually really good at charms – and at Quidditch! And I like your fluffy hair even if you have let it get almost as long as Luna’s, it’s nice when I hug you. And to Luna it was simpler still – Thankyou, for understanding me. You’re wonderful.

Rhiannon was too shy to send cards to any except her closest friends, but at one point Ron was helping her pack her clothes back in her trunk one afternoon when her room got too messy and stumbled across the cards she’d stashed there. He stared as the singing card fell open, and a grin spread across his face.

“That’s Ginny!” Ron said, beaming. “Oh, that’s the best thing – imagine if the twins heard that.”

Rhiannon snatched the card back from him and warned him not to say a word – she didn’t see Ginny as much as she’d like, but she didn’t want anyone making fun of the shy girl, she had a hunch it would only be damaging. So she borrowed some pencils and paper and made a final Valentine – not anything particularly romantic, just pretty green-and-gold shades - by now she was fairly good at figuring out what colours were altered by her wolf-eyes - and a simple message like she’d sent to her closer friends. Your singing voice is really pretty. Thankyou – even if I’m no heroine. Your friend, Rhi.

Rhiannon sent the cards with one of Lockhart’s ill-tempered messengers, and hoped nobody would say anything embarrassing about it. She wasn’t quite sure about the whole romance thing yet, it made her anxious and tangled up her thoughts in frustrating ways, she just wanted to do something nice for her friends, especially the ones who weren’t so confident about themselves.

________________________________________________________________

As Rhiannon hoped, nobody made a big deal about the cards she’d sent. Hermione just blushed and hugged her profusely, while Rhiannon got the embarrassing sense that Ron was avoiding her. She didn’t get much of a chance to fret about it, however, as Madam Pomfrey called her in to her office a little after midday on the thursday.

Rhiannon shifted anxiously in her chair and bounced one foot on the ground, wondering what Madam Pomfrey wanted to talk to her about. “Did I – do something?” she asked anxiously, to which Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

“No dear,” she reassured Rhiannon hastily. “I just wanted to talk to you more about your options, since I have noticed you fretting a little about your appearance and your voice, and thought you might have been too shy to ask about it.”

Rhiannon chewed on a nail, and the nurse glared at her. Guiltily she took her hand out of her mouth and sat on it to resist the urge. “I – yeah,” she mumbled, a flush rising in her cheeks. “It’s – not- comfy. But it’ll go away, right?” she asked, slurring the last words together a little.

Madam Pomfrey grimaced. “Technically, yes. But some of the changes you’re experiencing now, particularly the body hair and the extension of your voicebox changing your voice tone slightly, those are things that come with human puberty too and it’s my theory that that is why they are bothering you so much.” she explained, and held Rhiannon’s hand gently as the girl trembled and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Ye-yes,” Rhiannon admitted miserably. The nurse had got the issue exactly right. And it had taken so long for her to get comfortable in her body, then again after the changes of her regular lycanthropy – the idea of any change at all in either direction but especially that one, discomforted her. “Is it – bad – I just, want to go back to normal? And st-s-s-st-ssssss-stay there?”

Madam Pomfrey chuckled gently, and shook her head. “Not at all, though I hope you understand it’s not a long-term option – it’s not good for a body to hold off natural puberty forever.” she warned, and Rhiannon drooped. “But it is an option in the short term – you’re only very young, and very small. Non-magical doctors have formulated various methods of ‘blockers’, to essentially prevent puberty for whatever reason, including in cases like yours. There has been some magical research on the subject, though not as much as I’d like given your additional complication. If you liked, and with permission from your guardians – though I am sure they will have no issue – we could look into formulating potion equivalents of these for your use. With what’s going on, I doubt they’d be ready until next year – we’re stretched a little thin. It would give you more time to decide what you want to do. Does that sound alright?”

Rhiannon nibbled on her lip, thinking. She still wasn’t in any state to be making long term decisions, but this was something that had niggled away at her all year and especially more recently. She nodded hesitantly. “I- y-yes,” she stammered, suddenly swamped by a tidal wave of sheer relief at having more time to think rather than being hounded by the onset of more potential change, and coughed. “Yes, please.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled and squeezed her hand gently. “Well, that’s wonderful. And there’s a few other students you’re welcome to talk to. Miss Adrianne Pucey in particular volunteered, if you have any questions about these options. Mx. Ellery Lyons from Ravenclaw also offered their time, they’ve been looking after young Luna, and the young master Isaia Matautia is also very lovely and willing to help if you’re more comfortable in the Hufflepuff common room.”

Rhiannon blinked, and then flushed and rubbed her face as it itched with the sudden heat. “There’s – other t-t-tra-trans students?” she asked, a little dumbfounded. Of course she knew Luna, but – she hadn’t really considered that there might be others.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, smiling. “Of course – Hogwarts may only be a small school, but we’re a diverse one. Unfortunately, British wizarding culture takes rather a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ approach to these kinds of things, which leaves people like you quite isolated. They aren’t the only other trans students, but they are who gave their names and I won’t break confidence with the others. You’re not alone, my dear, I promise.”

Rhiannon smiled, suddenly hopeful, and impulsively she leaned forward and hugged Madam Pomfrey. “Thankyou!” she blurted, then sat backwards and clamped her wayward tail in one hand, red-faced. Madam Pomfrey chuckled, and a flick of her wand nudged the door open.

“Not a problem, Rhiannon – it is my job, after all. Now, go on – I think you might have some visitors.” Madam Pomfrey said, and gently shooed Rhiannon from her office.

When Rhiannon returned to her room, she found Madam Pomfrey had been right – she did have visitors! She beamed and bounded over to hug Luna, then Dudley. “Alright?” she asked them, a little curious as to why they were out of classes early.

Luna shrugged, and looked at Dudley to fill in. “It’s Luna’s birthday, and Lockhart’s class was boring us to tears,” he supplied. Rhiannon stared at them, aghast.

“You wagged class?” Rhiannon yelped, horrified. That was one of her worst nightmares – forgetting to go to class, or being late without meaning to. Skipping entirely was a completely foreign concept to her.

Dudley snorted, and shook his head, gesturing to her errant tail. “I think you’ll find it’s you who’s wagging,” he replied, and he and Luna snickered.

Rhiannon scowled – she’d walked right into that one without even thinking of it. Then she processed the rest of what Dudley had said, and her scowl became more of a worried frown. “It’s your birthday?” she asked Luna. “You didn’t tell us – ha-h-h-h-hhhh-happy b-b-bi-irthday, um - I’m sorry, I’d have got something for it -”

Luna shook his head and rubbed tiredly at their eyes. “Don’t bother. Loic, Mandy, Lisa and them would probably have hid it somewhere even if you had,” she replied, as matter-of-fact about it as ever.

Rhiannon bristled, and this time she didn’t bother to try and restrain her tail. “They’re still picking on you?” she asked, a faint growl in her voice at the thought.

Luna shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I am still sleeping on the couch. I’m sure I’ll get everything back eventually. But it does make having possessions a little pointless, and me an easy target.” fae replied, adjusting their glasses as they spoke.

Rhiannon shook her head, and tried to push the growl down. “’s not fair you have to sleep on the couch,” she grumbled. Again Luna only shrugged, though this time the stocky blond’s smile was more wry than anything else.

“It’s not so bad. At least I’m not on my own – Ellery’s been there since their fourth year, and the couches are pretty comfortable. The star-dome ceiling is very relaxing,” Luna assured them – Dudley too was scowling, his opinion of Luna’s situation clear.

“Still not fair,” Dudley growled mutinously, to which Rhiannon agreed wholeheartedly.

“I can’t ask them to change a whole system for two people, or however many of us there are,” Luna said, ever the rational one. Rhiannon just glared and flattened her ears, unwilling to admit that Luna was probably right.

“Well, if I can’t get you stuff – wo-woul-would you like to come with me, to the party tomorrow? As my – d-d-d-d-ate? Only i-i-if you’re not going to the real one, I know it won’t be as much f-ff-fu-fun in here,” Rhiannon stammered, her tail wagging stubbornly despite her efforts to restrain it. Eventually she gave up, finding the sensation was a good one.

Luna blinked, surprised, and a flush rose in their fair cheeks. Rhiannon was surprised at herself, in all honesty. Luna coughed, and slowly a shy smile spread over his face. “I think I’d like that,” she agreed quietly. Dudley cheered, and Rhiannon blushed until her cousin pulled the both of them into a hug.

Their delight was interrupted, as it so often was, by a slightly cross Madam Pomfrey. “The party’s not til tomorrow,” she warned them. “If you’re going to skip class to visit Miss Potter, at least keep the volume down so I can pretend I don’t know about it!”

Luna and Dudley both looked shamefaced, and they settled down a bit. Eventually Madam Pomfrey shooed them out entirely, saying Rhiannon needed rest, which left Rhiannon on her own to fret.

All at once, Rhiannon realised she’d never been to a party before. And she’d asked someone to one which meant now she had to look nice. She leapt off the bed and flung her trunk open, then rummaged through it for the dress Parvati’s family had given her the year before. The colours suited her, and she giggled as she realised it looked green in her wolf-eyes when her only complaint about it before had been that she preferred green to red. It also had a high neck and half-sleeves so that her shoulder scar would be covered. The skirt fell to her knees, and she happily crinkled the fabric of it in her hands, delighting at the sensation. There was a simple linen shift sewn into the inside, and over that the main layer of heavy silk Rhiannon remembered to be brighter red than the dark red shift though both looked a warm green to her at the moment, embroidered with gold at the hem and the cuffs of the half sleeves. Finally, the skirt had a third layer of translucent gold – something – that crinkled in a way that entertained Rhiannon, and shimmered prettily, and around the join between bodice and skirt went a soft gold ribbon that tied at the back. She’d never had a chance to wear it, and held it up in front of herself as she looked in the mirror.

Immediately Rhiannon drooped at the image she saw. Her hair was a wild tangle and she didn’t have a nice pair of shoes. Her lips were chapped, there were dark circles under her eyes, and her legs and arms were noticeably furry. She had a fairly distinct monobrow and her eyes looked strange, more yellow than usual and without the whites of human eyes – out of place in a human face. Her jaw was quite square and slightly pointed teeth poked out of her open mouth. Rhiannon’s lips trembled and tears welled up in her eyes. She covered her face and turned away from the mirror and flung herself down on the bed, the dress discarded.

Rhiannon cried there for a while, until Callie gra-aowed imperiously and demanded that she pay attention to her and not waste good energy on self-pity. Rhiannon sat up and dragged the cat into her lap and snuffled over her for a bit, the cat graciously did not react as tears dripped into her fur.

Eventually Rhiannon ran out of tears and self-pity. She wanted to take Luna to the party for her birthday and crying wasn’t helping her do that – but she had friends who could. So she dried her eyes and wiped her face, and settled herself before she put a beanie on and buttoned her robe back up to hide her tail, and went to find Madam Pomfrey.

It was a little before dinner, and Madam Pomfrey was bustling around rearranging medicines and straightening recently-vacated beds when Rhiannon found her. Her kind face creased up in concern when she saw Rhi had been crying, though she was also tactful enough not to mention it specifically.

“M-miss – Madam – Pomfrey,” Rhiannon stammered, struggling around the tears that still stuck in her throat. “Can you – help me, get someone from my dorm room? I want t-t-t-t, hhhh, t’ see Parvati. If that’s alright.” she asked, knotting her hands together anxiously.

Madam Pomfrey pulled a knotted loop of rope from her pocket and gave it to Rhiannon to twist instead of her hands – the girl had a tendency of cracking and hyperextending her knuckles as a sort of anxious self-stimulatory habit, and the nurse knew she would regret it the next day as her joints began to ache. “Of course – let me send a runner for her. Worried about tomorrow?” she asked.

Rhiannon sniffed miserably and nodded, Madam Pomfrey sighed. “See, this is why I don’t like Gilderoy making all this – performance – out of it, it’s far too much stress on you students, poor things. How about you go and shower, and then I’ll get Miss Rao to come on down after you’ve both had dinner?” she suggested.

Rhiannon recoiled at the suggestion of a shower and shook her head fervently. Madam Pomfrey nodded and patted her hand gently. “Alright then. After dinner. You go and rest now, alright? And come and get me again if you need anything.”

Rhiannon nodded glumly and traipsed back to her room. She lay back on the bed and snuggled her disagreeable cat to distract herself. Dinner came soon after, a simple casserole with mashed potatoes. Rhiannon didn’t particularly like mashed potatoes, and idly wished Calypso was a dog so she could dispose of them that way. Still, she managed it, and it wasn’t long after she finished that Parvati knocked on the door.

“Are you alright?” Parvati asked Rhiannon when she entered the room, and settled herself down on one of the spare chairs. “Madam Pomfrey didn’t tell me what was up, just that you wanted to see me.”

Rhiannon blushed, now very grateful that Madam Pomfrey had insisted she pick up her dress from where it had been dropped on the floor. “I- I- w-w-ww-wan-” she stammered, and whined softly as the words stuck in her throat. Parvati smiled patiently – she was never one to rush, and she’d been very kind when she learned about Rhiannon’s lycanthropy.

“C-c-can you show me h-hhh-h-how to look pretty?” Rhiannon blurted, twisting the rope circle around in her hands. “You – a-a-aalways look r-re-really nice so I thought – hoped – you wouldn’t mind.”

Parvati positively glowed with joy as she smiled at Rhiannon. “I hoped you’d ask!” she replied, equally enthusiastic. “Lavender’s the only other girly one in our year, and she’s already really good with makeup and hair and that, I sometimes feel like a frog next to her. But I thought you weren’t allowed to go to the dance?”

Rhiannon looked down at her bare feet where they swung against the side of the bed. “M-ma-mah-madam Pomfrey’s letting me have a tiny party in here, with friends and stuff. Um – you can come- if you, wanted,” she offered awkwardly. “It’s Luna’s birthday today and I asked th-th-them to go with me as, a sort of birthday thing.”

Parvati’s smile became more of an evil grin. “So you want to look pretty for Luna?” she teased, causing Rhiannon to cover her face with her hands as her tail thumped the bed behind her and her ears pricked up through her hair.

“Jus’- in general!” Rhiannon yelped, and Parvati cackled gleefully as clearly that confirmed her suspicion.

They settled – or at least Parvati did, Rhiannon perched on the edge of the bed and swished her tail back and forth in a sort of half-conscious stim as she looked at Parvati attentively. “So – can you?” she asked, when Parvati didn’t carry on.

Parvati blinked, she had been following Rhiannon’s tail back and forth with her eyes and become distracted. “Of course! I’ll do most of it tomorrow – of course I’ll come, want me to bring any of our other friends who know – Heather, Tracey, them? And Sally-Anne would probably love to help do your makeup if you told her what’s going on,” she suggested. Rhiannon frowned momentarily at the idea of telling another person, but relented – her few Hufflepuff friends were perfectly nice and the least judgmental people she knew.

“Y-you can tell them. It’d be nice if, if she and Ellie wanted to come,” Rhiannon agreed after a moment’s thought.

Parvati’s smile brightened and she clapped her hands together. “Oh that’s lovely – we can all get ready together. I’ll talk to Madam Pomfrey, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we put up some streamers or something... do you want me to invite Lavender? We don’t have to tell her if you’re not up to that, when we’re done it won’t be so obvious.” she asked.

Rhiannon’s face crinkled up, and she shook her head slowly. She got on with Lavender better than she had the year before, but it was still a little tense and she sympathised with Parvati’s apt description of feeling like a frog next to the very pretty blonde girl. “N-n-no. Maybe – some other time. When I’m not all, puppy.” she demurred, and Parvati giggled at that before she returned to the task at hand.

“That’s fair enough, and I heard she was going to the dance with Felix Dillard from third-year anyway,” Parvati agreed. “So I’ll come by tomorrow with Sally-Anne if she wants to help... if you’re okay with Eloise knowing, I’m sure we can convince her to come – she’s not going to the big one, she had a bad nervous breakout of spots and refused to go. For now – please shower, you’re shedding all over the furniture, but before then I’ll get Madam Pomfrey to help you out with a charm. I don’t think you can handle a razor with your paw – poor – hands,” she said, fixing Rhiannon with a stern look as the shorter girl shrank from the prospect of wet. They both giggled at Parvati’s unintentional pun, and exchanged a brief hug when Parvati yawned and stood up to leave.

“I’ll send Ron down to you in a bit, he’s climbing the walls up there. Night, Rhi – go shower,” Parvati said and waved a sleepy goodbye as she left the room. Rhiannon sighed heavily and flopped back on her bed, smiling sleepily. Her cat gra-aaaowed accusingly, she sat back up again and glared at the creature.

“Shush you, I’m going,” Rhiannon grumbled, and swung her legs off the bed. She got a towel and some light pyjamas out of her trunk and slunk off to the showers with her tail between her legs.

____________________________________________________________________

Rhiannon woke too early the next morning, and disturbed Ron by accident. He threw a pillow at her for disrupting his sleep, which she promptly chewed to shreds, and Madam Pomfrey threatened them both with detention as a result. They were put to work cleaning up and then decorating the completely deserted hospital wing after breakfast instead, hanging streamers and bedazzling the walls with magical glitter.

Some time after they had finished decorating the hospital wing – by which time it was now mid-afternoon - Parvati appeared with Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Emilia Moon and a very excited Sally-Anne Perks in tow. They banished Ron from Rhiannon’s bedroom and began their preparations, and their first task was to tame Rhiannon’s unruly hair. Madam Pomfrey had assisted her with a charm to remove body hair – with a caution that it was a one-time only thing, given her temporary lack of manual dexterity. But Rhiannon still worried at her eyebrows and her mane of hair in general, so Parvati armed herself with a pair of eyebrow tweezers while Tracey took to Rhiannon’s hair with a bottle of Sleekeazy potion, not trusting the girls with straighter hair to handle it. All of the girls giggled when they noticed on the bottle that it was invented by ‘Fleamont Potter’ – “Guess we know where you got your hair, Rhi!” Sally-Anne chortled as she braided a pretty crown into Daphne’s sleek blonde hair.

Rhiannon blushed at that. The only picture she’d seen of her father his hair was quite short and so she hadn’t really noticed the similarity, but it made sense. She wriggled and protested as Parvati wheedled her eyebrows into shape. “You do this every day?” she asked, a little in awe. The other girls shook their heads, aghast at the idea.

“God no!” Daphne cried. “This is only – special occasions, no way!”

Parvati nodded agreement. “I fix my eyebrows every couple of weeks or so but – the rest of this is just for fun, we’re only at school.”

Rhiannon frowned, and rested her chin on her hands as she subjected herself to the rest of the torment. She liked the feeling of smooth legs and the water running over them, especially after several weeks of prickly wolf-fur everywhere, and wished it didn’t have to be a just-for-now thing.

By the time Rhiannon’s hair had been coaxed into some semblance of order, a very shy Eloise Midgen had joined them and it was now quite late in the afternoon. Parvati helped Rhiannon put her dress on lest she tear it with her claws. Sally-Anne at first suggested lending her some shoes but gave up as her slightly misshapen paw-feet made it impossible. Instead Tracey fished in her bag for a roll of ribbon and tied the gold strands in a sort of criss-cross shape around Rhiannon’s ankles, then tied more of the same into Rhiannon’s hair.

Rhiannon stared at herself in the mirror, barely recognising herself. Parvati had taken out a makeup kit and cleverly hidden the worst of Rhiannon’s dark circles and scars, the rest Rhiannon’s glamours hid. There was a light flush to her cheeks and she wore the coloured lipgloss Lavender had given her. The top layers of her thick hair had been braided into a simple sort of crown that started as a single braid at each temple with a gold ribbon in one of the strands, and looped round to the back of her head, where they joined together to form a single heavy braid, fastened with more of the gold ribbon, that lay down on the rest of her hair. That had been liberally doused in Sleekeazy and carefully handled into shape – Tracey was horrified when Rhiannon told her she usually just brushed her hair, and made the girl promise never to do so again. “Not even a comb unless it’s wet, no wonder it’s so frizzy!” Tracey warned her, still aghast. With proper care, her hair now settled into definite curls and hung around her shoulders in a way that was – well, Rhiannon thought, almost beautiful. She’d never thought that before.

Putting makeup on had been a challenge – Rhiannon felt an uncomfortable tickling inside her cheek whenever Parvati dabbed at her with the sponge and had knocked over a pot of foundation powder as she wiggled away from the sensation. Emilia had threatened to tie Rhiannon to the chair if she didn’t stop kicking, so Rhiannon had settled down and done her best not to twitch. But eventually they were done, and the other girls sighed in delight as they looked at their work.

“You look amazing, Rhi,” Parvati assured her. “No wonder you got so many Valentines.”

Rhiannon blushed at that and waved the comment away, fidgeting awkwardly in her chair as she tried to stop her tail escaping to flick her dress up at the back. She almost had it under control and then stood up and it started all over again, she gave up and just laughed helplessly.

“Let’s go before Rhi chews her ribbons off,” Sally-Anne suggested teasingly, and Rhiannon nodded eagerly – let’s go indeed, she was tired of sitting down. The other girls shepherded her out of her room and into the main hospital wing, where they all gasped and stared around in wonder.

The beds had been removed for the time being, and the room’s lights had been dimmed to a soft candle-light level. Outside the sky was dim, Rhiannon was surprised to realise it had to be sometime after six. Charmed sparkles hung from the streamers Rhiannon and Ron had helped to hang earlier, and a short table stood at one end of the room spread with enough food for everyone there – fifteen people all told, including Rhi herself. Around that table there were several smaller ones where they could sit and eat, and the other end of the room – which Rhiannon’s room opened onto and they now walked through – had been cleared to make a sort of dance floor, with charmed lights that changed colour softly and music playing at a comfortable volume.

Rhiannon’s closest friends had been banished while she got ready, and they stared at her now as she padded into the room supported by her cane and the other girls. “Wow, princess,” Ron breathed, his mouth hanging open as she bounded over to him. His awe turned into a grin as her ears pricked up over the top of her loose braided crown and her tail flicked her dress up at the back, and he hugged her loosely. “Oh, good, for a second I was worried someone swapped you,” he teased.

Rhiannon flushed and swatted his arm, he just laughed and passed her on to Hermione. Hermione’s reaction was much as Ron’s had been – she stared openmouthed, and her eyes flicked from the ribbons on Rhi’s ankles up over her dress and to her neatly curly hair that hung around her shoulders. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, her skin flushing olive-green in Rhiannon’s skewed vision. “I- kindawish-nuh- you, you look very nice, Rhi,” she stammered uncharacteristically, tripping over her words initially and changing thought trains before settling on the compliment. She squeezed Rhiannon’s hands briefly and then positively fled, leaving Rhi feeling unsettled and half-wishing to go back to her room.

She was rescued from this aimless, uncomfortable feeling by the ever-wonderful Luna, who was dressed simply in clean jeans that looked slightly purplish to Rhianon, a plain white shirt and a vest Rhiannon guessed to be purple. Luna took one of Rhi’s hands as they came up behind her, smiling brightly.

“This – is the best birthday,” Luna murmured, his round face upturned to look around them in wonder. The low light was soft and xe seemed caught in her own little spotlight to the amazed Rhiannon, some hairs had sprung loose from their ponytail to fall around their forehead and cheeks. Rhiannon had never seen anyone like that before. Oh, she swooned over Cedric Diggory for how charming and kind he was but – she’d not seen anyone in this specific kind of light, and unfamiliar feelings welled up in her chest as she gazed at her friend, hoping to share in their joy by a sort of osmosis of friendship.

“I’m glad,” Rhiannon whispered back, then coughed – for all their work, the girls couldn’t make her voice any less hoarse. Luna turned that radiant smile on Rhiannon and hugged her tightly. He was so much taller than Hermione, even taller than Ron, and Rhiannon felt very small and safe with them. She would have happily stayed there forever, she thought dreamily.

Eventually it was Luna who had to gently pry Rhiannon’s arms from around vir waist. “Don’t you want to dance?” he asked, and at Rhiannon’s enthusiastic nod sei led the short girl out onto the hastily constructed dance floor. Luna tilted zir head, listening to the music, then laughed suddenly. “Rhi, it’s your song, listen!” he urged.

Rhiannon blinked, bewildered, but did as Luna asked, and a slow smile spread over her face as the lyrics drifted across the room.

Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn't you love to love her?
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?

Rhiannon blushed at the last line of the stanza and returned her attention to Luna. “H-ha-Hagrid told me my mum, she sang it,” she murmured, her eyes half-closed as she still listened to the music in the background. “But I’d never heard it before.”

Luna smiled in their dreamy way and nodded peacefully. “I thought of the song when I heard what you’d named yourself. It suits you – you’re interesting, just like the Rhiannon in the song.”

Rhiannon tripped over Luna’s foot at that, blushing furiously. Her tail flicked up the back of her dress and her ears pricked up over the braided crown, she cursed the total inability to hide her emotions. “I – suppose – so -” she squeaked, unable to trust herself to say more. Luna laughed and tweaked one of Rhi’s ears gently, and whisked her away across the floor in a goofy sort of energetic waltz, rather than force her to speak more and embarrass herself.

They danced until Rhiannon was worn out – no mean feat, given she had been cooped up for almost a month. Rhiannon’s other friends insisted on sharing a dance with her, among them a very bashful Hermione who apologised for being so stiff earlier but still seemed a little lost for words. Once everyone ran out of energy for dancing and laughter, they made for the refreshment table for a very late dinner – Madam Pomfrey had redirected some of the supplies from the main party that they could hear down the halls if they listened hard enough. A lot of the food was, to Rhiannon’s dismay, not safe for werewolves, but she was hungry enough and forgot the danger. Madam Pomfrey had evidently been waiting in the wings for just this moment, as she swooped down on Rhiannon and Dudley with her wand raised.

“What is that in your mouth?” the nurse asked, her voice dangerously patient. Rhiannon and Dudley looked at eachother, then at their chocolately fingers, and immediately began to chew faster. “Waddiwasi!” Madam Pomfrey cried, and they spluttered as what they’d been eating – chocolate cupcakes – was unceremoniously yanked from their mouths and swept across the room into a conveniently located rubbish bin. “And don’t you try that again!” she scolded them both as she siphoned the last crumbs and smears from their hands. The danger averted, she returned to her office with a warning to the rest of Rhiannon’s friends about the food, though she left the door open and Rhiannon wasn’t entirely convinced she didn’t have spying spells watching them for any misbehaviour.

Eventually, the food was gone and everyone sat about either talking quietly or too tired even to do that. Even Rhiannon started to droop and nodded off against Luna’s shoulder for a moment. The music had fallen quiet and the lights dimmed, and Rhiannon knew it was only a matter of time before they were banished to bed. She relished the little time they had left and rested her head back against her chair, eyes half-lidded and ears lazily flicking about to catch the murmured conversations.

Unfortunately, Rhiannon’s sleepy assessment was correct. When the Astronomy Tower clock chimed ten, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her room to put an end to things. They all protested, but were too tired to put up much of a fuss, and Rhiannon got a last burst of energy to wish all of her friends goodbye, hugging those who were comfortable with it and happily flapping to let out the joy that couldn’t be expressed in words. Finally, just she and Luna remained in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey eyed them both balefully, but sighed. “Oh, you’re too young for it to be much a worry... very well,” she grumbled, and shooed them off to the bathrooms to get ready for bed.

Rhiannon realised sleepily that she had no idea how to take off the makeup, light as it was, and didn’t like the idea of getting it all over her pillow. She tried to say something to Luna about it but got tangled in a yawn. Luna laughed softly and fetched a flannel from the sink, and gently wiped away the light makeup. He then undid the braids in her hair, and turned away very politely so Rhiannon could change. Rhiannon hurried back to her room when it was Luna’s turn to undress, and settled herself into bed hoping to be asleep before xe returned to their room. Somehow it felt very small now, she wasn’t sure what had changed.

Rhiannon lay in her bed with eyes closed, almost soundless when Luna returned save for the occasional snuffling breath in. Luna chuckled quietly as fae settled themself in the other bed, disturbing Calypso who had curled up on it. “Good night, Rhi,” she murmured, a smile audible in her voice.

Just as with Madam Pomfrey months before, Rhiannon was startled and wondered how Luna had known she was not asleep. Then she remembered - ‘you make more noise in your sleep.’ She blushed and groaned quietly as her tail thumped against the bed under the covers, and rolled over on her side. “’night, Luna,” she replied sleepily, and reached out of bed to scratch the top of her cat’s head. “I had... a really, nice time,” she added, interrupting herself with a yawn. Callie chose that moment to leap up onto the bed, and Rhiannon lost Luna’s reply in the jingle of the cat’s collar tags. She thought to ask her friend to repeat themself, but was too tired to find the words, and soon after she was sound asleep.