Content warning - transphobic slur, blood purism, grief, overwhelming panic

After Valentines’ Day, Rhiannon was almost disappointed that the full moon was so close. She’d grown used to her tail and now she was more familiar with it, she found she could wag it on purpose as an additional happy stim – a werewolf version of happyflapping. Her paw-hands were a pain, but she didn’t mind the fuzzy ears. She’d be glad to be rid of the changes in her throat and the persistent body hair but... there were things she would miss.

The full moon transformation was the worst Rhiannon had experienced since her first, because the cycle had gotten confused. She turned into a short-tailed wolf as usual and got ready to run, but she was dropped on her face by another seizure as her body had to turn back into human shape again, and then into the wolf shape, before it would even itself out. As a result she was shaky, stiff and fearful through the night of the sixteenth, and they all kept to a walk across the hillsides so as not to wear her out.

When the full moon week was over, Rhiannon was faced with the uncomfortable problem of having to put her wolf-brain back in her brain. She had grown comfortable around her friends, but she couldn’t just howl when she caught the Quaffle in practice anymore, or growl at students who bumped her in the hallways. She couldn’t chew her homework when she was bored with it – the ‘dog ate my homework’ excuse had been old before she was born. And they were very patient with her, but Rhiannon couldn’t shake the worry that she might annoy her friends with clinginess – now that her brain was back to her version of normal and she could actually process such worries again, at least.

So the second half of February was a stressful time for Rhiannon, and she kept her head down as much as she could. Giving her wolf-self a name other than her own had helped – it was easier to tell off something else than just herself, and didn’t feel so bad. And it was easier to recognise when Nyx’s instincts pushed into her own headspace, now that she knew what to look for. With that as a mental tool, she gradually figured out how to behave like a human again and refocused on her studies. She had done some correspondence through the almost-month she had been in the Hospital Wing but her focus and grades had understandably slipped, and now she had to work harder to catch up.

As she was busy studying, it was understandable if not ideal that Rhiannon lost track of how her friends were doing. Had she been more herself, she would have noticed already how little she saw Ginny Weasley and how ill the redhead looked when she did. But as it was, she was surprised when one Saturday afternoon very near the end of February her study was disturbed by Luna and Dudley. They knocked on the portrait door until someone looked outside, and wouldn’t leave until that someone fetched Rhiannon.

“She was going to teach me to play Gobstones,” Dudley explained when Rhiannon joined them. Both he and Luna were breathing hard, evidently they had hurried upstairs at some speed, and Dudley’s face was damp around the temples. His hair flopped untidily over one eye as he leaned on the wall, pale eyebrows drawn together with worry.

Luna nodded, chewing on his lip and worrying at their tangled blonde hair as they clearly considered the issue. “We’ve been trying to look after her all year,” ze explained, frowning. “She’s made a couple of friends in her year but – being Sorted into Slytherin and all, it’s not been a good time. She was doing alright, especially back when they were doing that sleep-in thing and she was only with the decent ones but... she’s gotten worse lately and we’re worried.”

Dudley wiped his forehead, leaving his hair even messier before. “She sometimes ditches study, and that’s fine – even Luna bunks off study sometimes,” he agreed. Luna stuck vir tongue out at him and he returned the gesture with a smile, but it faded and he shook his head tiredly. “But she never used to flake out on, friend stuff. She promised we’d hang out today and we can’t find her anywhere. You know she was even in detention over the holidays? I thought she went home or something like we did, but nope.”

Rhiannon shifted her grip on the cane – that was worrying. “Le-lemme go get Ron,” she slurred, and slipped back through the portrait door. She returned after a few minutes with a bristling Ron in tow, who glared at the two first-years.

“Why didn’t you – say something, sooner?” Ron asked sharply. Rhiannon elbowed him and he withdrew, still scowling.

Luna raised her hands in a placating gesture, and tilted their head. “We’re all in different houses – you’d as much chance to notice as we did. Let’s not start fires before we know what’s going on – if something is wrong, we all messed up. Let’s just go and see if anyone else knows where she is.” ze said calmly.

Ron deflated, and Rhiannon squeezed his hand with a shaky smile. “I’m wo-worried too,” she murmured, as they moved off down the corridor to the stairs. “I just sort of – put it aside for a bit, because she looked okay with Hayley over Valentines’ but... don’t yell at them, I should’ve noticed sooner too.”

Ron hung his head miserably. “She’s my little sister. Mum was so mad she was stuck here over the holidays, but Gin, she sent us this cheerful letter saying it was all a misunderstanding over a prank so we thought it was just, normal Weasley shenanigans. Fred and George thought it was great.” he mumbled, and dragged a hand across his eyes wearily. Rhiannon put an arm around his side and hugged him awkwardly, but had to let go again so they could keep walking.

All four of them huddled together in quiet worry as they made their way down the many, many stairs to the castle dungeons. They were more familiar with the way there now, but it was still a long way and they were worn out when they reached it.

Outside the featureless wall they knew marked the Slytherin common room, they stopped to rest against the wall. A skinny, light-skinned boy with a scattering of old pockmarks across his forehead half-hidden by his untidy ashy brown-blond hair looked over from where he chattered with a group of other students Rhiannon guessed to be around her own age. A nasty smile spread over his thin face, and he pointed to Rhiannon and her friends as he spoke with his own.

Aside from the brown-haired boy with the pockmarks, there were two other boys – one shorter, stocky and with dark brown hair, the other tall and scowling with sort of washed-out reddish blond hair; and two girls – one short, thin and very pale in both her hair and skin, the other as tall as the first boy and black-haired. Rhiannon frowned as they approached, noting they all wore Slytherin robes and matching unpleasant smiles.

“Two tranny freaks, a blood traitor and a Mudblood,” the first boy addressed Rhiannon and her friends, while the other four circled around them. “What’re you doing hanging around our common room? Maybe we should teach you a lesson, t’ stay where you belong.”

One of the girls, the short blonde one, snickered, the round-shouldered boy with dark hair elbowed Dudley sharply. Dudley growled and the dark-haired boy backed off a step, uneasy. Rhiannon put her hand on her cousin’s arm to steady him, Ron was red-faced and she wondered if she could grab his wand before he did something very stupid with it.

Luckily, she was spared that dilemma, as footsteps sounded in the hallway behind them. “Oi, what’re you doing?” a loud voice asked. Rhiannon sagged against the wall in relief – that was Heather. The stocky brown-haired girl shouldered her way in between the blond boy and dark-haired girl, and glared at all five of them. “Piss off Harper,” she snapped, addressing the pockmarked boy.

“They’re spies!” the reddish-haired boy protested.

Heather rolled her eyes and shook her head. “They’re my friends, dumbass, they’re probably just here to say hi. Bulstrode, Nott – wouldn’t expect any better of you,” she snapped, with a derisive gesture first to the black-haired girl and then the shorter dark-haired boy. “And Ben, we know you’re into all that us against them stuff,” she added with a roll of her eyes at the first boy, who reddened angrily. Before he could protest, she overrode him and turned her attention to the other two. “But you – Gerald Lancaster, right, and Christina Quaile? Honestly, I’m disappointed, thought you had better taste than wannabe-Death Eaters. You’re first-years, get better friends. Now, piss off, all of you, and leave my friends alone.” she snapped, and shooed them away.

The younger Slytherins retreated, glaring back over their shoulders at Heather, Rhiannon and the others. Rhiannon raised one newly-neatened eyebrow at Heather, who flushed.

“Sorry you had to see that,” she mumbled, and ran a hand through her hair. “Ben Harper’s just a first-year with too high an opinion of himself, and his friends aren’t any braver.”

Rhiannon shrugged, amused. “We – wanted to ask if you knew where Ginny was, actually,” she asked hesitantly. “Not that – I – don’t like to hang out with you, just, we’re worried about her.”

Heather chewed on her lip, a frown creasing her face. “Fair enough too – she got stuck here with me and some of the other troublemakers over break, barely said a word the whole time. I was going t’ come talk to you about her actually, but she looked like she was doing alright this month so I thought maybe she was alright but, last week or so, it’s been bad again. She’s nice, we usually play practice Quidditch at lunch on Saturdays and she bunked so I’m kinda worried too.” she admitted, and explained the situation to them. Ron’s lip trembled and Rhiannon hugged him around the waist – she knew he’d be embarrassed if he cried, even if she didn’t totally understand why that was so embarrassing.

“Let me go look in the dorms and ask a bit, I’ll be back in five,” Heather said, noting their worried expressions. The other four nodded assent and she turned her attention to the wall they leaned against.

“Parseltongue,” she announced, with a roll of her eyes directed at Rhi and the others, before she stepped through the wall.

The four of them settled down on the floor and talked quietly amongst themselves as they waited for Heather to come back. She returned after ten minutes looking harried, with Ginny’s best friend Hayley in tow. Hayley was normally one of the friendliest people in the castle and Rhiannon had never seen her without a smile, to see so now was a further indication something was wrong.

“I haven’t seen her since class – we have Creatures, Flying and Herbology on Saturdays,” Hayley said as they approached. She looked close to tears, Heather had an arm around the younger girl’s shoulders to comfort her. “She was all – scattered, like – in Creatures, and Madam Hooch took her broom off her in Flying and made her write lines after she flew into Fenella and Herbology – she left early, said she was going to the bathroom, and I haven’t seen her since.” she finished with a sniff.

Rhiannon held Ron’s hand tightly, Luna had snaked one of their arms around her other one, keeping her supported on both sides. It was a good thing, because right then all Rhiannon wanted to do was scream, and run through the castle hunting for Ginny. She shook away angry tears and leaned into Luna’s shoulder, she could feel the tall Ravenclaw trembling despite how outwardly calm they looked. Dudley coughed, and rubbed at his eyes – he too was like Ron, and refused to show weakness around others.

“Let’s go look, then,” Dudley suggested hoarsely. He nodded stiffly when Hayley and Heather glanced at him, and tapped his nose, though without any of the wry mischief the gesture usually held. “Best split up so we’re not all galumphing through the castle at once – Rhi, you, Ron and Hayley check bathrooms, yeah?” he said, as they took the first stairs up out of the dungeons. “Start with the ones nearest Herbology I guess. We’ll look outside – maybe she’s gone to Hagrid or something, see if I can pick anything up.”

Heather shrugged, seeing the sense in Dudley’s rough plan – especially as she was one of the now-many who knew Rhiannon’s secret and had guessed Dudley’s by extension of that. Luna hugged Rhiannon’s arm more tightly, and Rhi shook her head. She looked up at the tall blond with a very small and sad smile. “If you swapped with Ron, he and Dudley would kill eachother arguing,” she said. Both boys glared at her, and Luna managed a watery laugh. They squeezed Rhiannon’s arm once more before letting go and joining the others, and waved an awkward goodbye as the two groups split.

From the dungeons, it wasn’t far to the bathrooms on the first floor east side, those nearest the Herbology greenhouses – a relief, as Rhiannon in particular was tiring and both Hayley and Ron were fizzy with anxiety. But they didn’t find Ginny there – in fact, by the faint smells Rhiannon could find, it didn’t seem she’d been there that day at all. That worried all three of them – why would Ginny have lied about something so simple? But it didn’t mean the trail was lost altogether. The next thing to do was retrace her steps completely, and that meant going back to the place Hayley had seen her last.

Rhiannon closed her eyes and leaned against the wall as she walked, trying to wrangle her weary thoughts and senses on the way out towards the Herbology greenhouses. They were in an enclosed courtyard beside the castle, with a high outer wall to shield them from the wind and occasional hail they got in the highlands. Rhiannon found Greenhouse One, which the first years worked in, and peered around curiously. She sniffed, and immediately sneezed at the overwhelming array of scents.

“Back off, please? Can’t sort t-t-th-this, you’re tangling it,” Rhiannon asked Ron and Hayley, and the two obliged her easily. Rhiannon leaned back against the door of the greenhouse, breathing deeply and trying to calm herself so she could sort through the scents she found there. She disregarded the numerous herbal smells, searching for one in particular. It was tangled with the rest, both students she knew vaguely and others she didn’t, but yes – there was the smell that meant Ginny, and there was that distinct heavy smell of hungry wrong-death. It didn’t cause her panic the way it had in January, but given the context it set Rhiannon on edge.

“F-f-f-f-ound it, follow me,” Rhiannon stammered and beckoned to her friends, setting off at the the quickest clip she could manage without arousing suspicion. They followed the newest Ginny-trail back into the castle, growing more and more concerned as it led right across the first floor entirely and up a side staircase. That squashed the idea that maybe Ginny had just gone to one of the bathrooms – something was wrong. The trail led upstairs to the second floor, through a winding maze of corridors, and into a flooded hallway.

Rhiannon stopped, eyes narrowed, as she looked around her. Watery sobs echoed from the bathroom ahead of them – that explained the flooding. Ginny’s trail didn’t stick so well through the flooding, but she’d obviously leaned on a wall or something as she went because there it was, clear enough with a little patience – and it led right into the bathroom.

Rhiannon quivered as she looked inside the open doorway, already feeling the walls closing in. Some irrational part of her thought that was the wolf-place now, if she went in there she’d hurt her friends. Both Hayley and Ron caught up to her and they each took one of her arms, Rhiannon realised she was hyperventilating and sagged against them. She closed her eyes, trying to quiet Nyx and her panic as both tangled up together in her head, howling for her to listen. No. She had to find Ginny.

Rhiannon shook off her panic and leaned over, breathing deeply to push the last of it aside. “’m good,” she mumbled, and pushed Ron off her. She steeled herself and stepped into the bathroom, following the now very strong smell of Ginny and hungry death and fear.

Every door in the bathroom swung wide open on its hinges, and Ginny Weasley was very clearly not there. Rhiannon was just about to turn and leave when the ghost, Myrtle, gave a great sob and sprayed water in a great fountain all over the floor from where she resided in one of the toilets. Myrtle had been kind to Rhiannon during her accident, even if she couldn’t really remember it, and she felt guilty – she hadn’t thanked her, and she couldn’t just leave someone so clearly distressed. Even if Myrtle’s meltdowns were a regular occurrence, this seemed worse than usual – and it wasn’t her fault she was having a terrible afterlife, Rhiannon had noticed Peeves picking on the miserable young ghost on several occasions.

Rhiannon sighed, wishing for once she wasn’t so nice, and made her way hesitantly over to the toilet cubicle that Myrtle occupied. Ginny wasn’t here, she could pick the trail back up just as easily after ten minutes as she could right now. She knocked on the cubicle, and lurched back as a jet of water shot past her.

“Go away!” the ghost sobbed, her voice muffled by the water. “I’ve had enough things thrown at me today! What do you want, another shot?”

Rhiannon blinked, and shook her head before she realised Myrtle couldn’t see it. “N-n-no,” she stammered. “It’s Rhi – Rhiannon, I was looking for somebody but I heard you crying, what’s wrong?”

There was a gurgling surge of water, and Rhiannon peered into the cubicle as the ghost poked her head up out of the toilet. She folded her arms and rested them on the toilet seat, and miserably dropped her chin onto them.

“Oh, Rhiannon – you look much better now, I’m glad, though you did make a cute puppy,” Myrtle said, and giggled wetly. “I was just minding my own business, talking to the Squid down the pipes, when somebody comes along and throws a book in on top of me! It went right through my head.” she added, and sniffed loudly. Tears trickled down her translucent face, and Rhiannon thought it would be unwise to point out that whoever had thrown the book probably didn’t mean to hurt Myrtle.

“A – a-aaa-a book?” Rhiannon asked, a little bewildered. Why would someone throw a book down a toilet?

Myrtle shuddered, and drifted up out of the toilet. Rhiannon shivered as the ghost passed right through her, then turned to look as Myrtle sniffed and pointed across the room to where a small black book lay on the floor, soaked in water.

“I told them to go away too, and they screamed. It hurt my ears, so I came back up to throw water at them – serves them right – but they were already halfway out the door,” Myrtle said miserably.

Rhiannon shook her head, frowning, as Ron picked up the diary and turned it over. “Did- you – ss-s-ss-s-s-see who it was?” she stammered. With her attention split between two things, her speech tangled up and got a bit lost, though she managed to get it back on track when she refocused on Myrtle.

Myrtle shook her head glumly. “Just red hair. I think they might have been a girl, but I couldn’t tell.” she replied.

Rhiannon’s frown deepened, and she looked over at the book again with a niggling suspicion growing in the back of her mind. But she was too polite to ignore the ghost entirely, so she tried to wrap the conversation up as best she could. “Well – um – thankyou,” she stuttered, managing a stiff smile. “I th-th-think that might actually have been who we’re looking for – but, I’m really sorry she threw a book through you, that’s not fair.”

Myrtle smiled her own shy smile, and Rhiannon could have sworn the ghost blushed behind her glasses, almost colourless as she was. “You’re welcome,” she replied. “And – you can come back here any time, you know. It was nice when you were working on that potion, all... creative like, it was interesting. I’ll even flood the bathrooms if you wanted to try a different one sometime.” she offered.

Rhiannon giggled at that, despite her unease. “M-ma-may-be,” she stammered, surprised. Myrtle waved goodbye, looking significantly more cheerful than she had before, and vanished back into the toilet with another surge of water.

Rhiannon couldn’t help a sigh of relief, despite having not particularly minded the conversation itself – she just couldn’t keep her mind off Ginny. She walked back to where Ron and Hayley stood, inspecting the diary, and gestured to it. “Anything?” she asked.

Ron shrugged, and Hayley frowned. “I – I think, it might be Ginny’s? But I can’t tell – and it’s empty, too,” the younger girl replied, looking defeated.

Rhiannon held out a hand for the diary, wincing as the soggy leather touched her palm. She opened it – empty, just like Hayley had said. Then she sniffed it, and recoiled immediately – hungry, death, the wolf clamoured in her head, her scar flashed with pain and her vision prickled and dulled at the edges, swallowing her vision and leaving her only a small round field. The smell swamped any possible trace of Ginny the water might have left on it, but Rhiannon was sure now. “It’s definitely hers,” she agreed, frowning and clutching her forehead as her scar throbbed sullenly. “And it – smells wrong, I don’t know. I’ve - s-s-s-s-ssee-ssss-seen her, drawing in it before - so I don’t know why it’s empty. Let’s hold on to it for now and go look for her, pick up the trail outside,” she suggested, and shoved the thing into an inside pocket of her robe as quickly as she could, she didn’t want to touch it anymore. As soon as it left her skin the pain in her scar eased, though it did not relent entirely and her field of vision was still stubbornly restricted

Both of her companions nodded agreement and they all made ready to leave the bathroom when there was a crackling in the air that set Rhiannon’s sensitive ears to prickling. She covered them just in time as a voice blared from around them, sounding like it was carried over a magical speaker system.
“All students are to return to their common rooms immediately. Ronald Weasley, Rhiannon Potter, please report to the Hospital Wing.”

The voice was McGonagall’s though it was crackly and thin through the magical amplification. Rhiannon dug her nails into her palms and fought the urge to shriek in fear and frustration – she was looking for someone, she couldn’t go to the Hospital Wing now! Ron took her elbow, and held on when she tried to shake him off, murmuring quietly to her. He took her other hand and squeezed it gently until she looked up at him, wild-eyed and shaking.

“What if it’s Ginny?” he asked simply. Rhiannon stared at him, Hayley muffled a horrified sob with her hands. Hayley left them slump-shouldered and defeated to return to her common room, and Rhiannon and Ron took off running for the hospital wing on the first floor, suspicion or safety be damned.

When they got there, they faced a wall of teachers. Ron held Rhiannon back with his arms crossed over her chest as she struggled both with him and her panic, her instincts telling her to push through. She could already smell it. She screamed and scratched at his arms but he held her back firmly as the crowded staff parted to show what she already knew.

Slowly, Ron released her as Rhiannon fell still, and the both of them staggered to the side of the hospital bed. Rhiannon stared numbly down at the figure who lay in the bed, taking it in like clumps of data – grey woollen sweater washed so it wouldn’t prickle, pleated black skirt that fell below the knee, grey woollen socks with a red-and-gold stripe around the top, a red-and-black school robe unbuttoned at the front. Heavy braids fell around round shoulders and a frozen face, caught mid-shriek as she held up something before her, deep brown eyes open wide and unblinking. And the smell – she didn’t realise how alive Hermione smelled until it was frozen, tainted with sour fear and trapped somehow.

Rhiannon howled, a miserable grief-stricken sound that rose to a desperate shriek. It could have passed as human but only barely, and she didn’t care as she fell across her friend’s frozen, unmoving body in the bed. Not dead, not dead, not dead – but did it matter? She could smell her friend’s terror so strongly it was as good as feeling it herself, not just old fear but new, fresh horror at being trapped unable to move. She hadn’t realised how much Hermione moved, fidgeted, shifted her weight even in rest – until she was faced with a Hermione who couldn’t. Rhiannon hugged the unresisting shape and sobbed, curling herself in beside Hermione on the narrow bed with her eyes tightly closed. Her blood roared in her ears, dimly she knew she cried and murmured nonsense – but it didn’t matter what people though of her, she didn’t care. She didn’t even know if Hermione could hear her or feel her. All she knew was that she wouldn’t leave her Hermione alone like this – and no one was foolish enough to try and make her.