Chapter 9: Chapter nine

The moonlight streams through the leaded windows, and, with a final look at Harry and Ron, I take one… two… three steps, standing right in front of the ornately-framed mirror. Nothing seems out-of-place at first, just… me. Me, standing there, staring back at me through the reflective glass, her hair loose and untied. I can see the brightness in my eyes, the deeper red of my lips as they curve up in a small, secretive smile. She’s wearing the Hogwarts uniform, skirt and stockings, but, as she turn, I can see another version of myself behind, as my eleven-year-old self skips aside to make room.

The me standing there now is… around eighteen, maybe slightly older, with a slim waist, broad hips, and long legs. She’s wearing muggle clothes, jeans and a short-sleeved t-shirt, with a flannel top over it. She’s grinning, the kind of smile that I’ve never worn before, her kohl-rimmed eyes sparkling as she waves a hand at me.

I let out a gasping cry and wrench myself backwards, stumbling as I force my legs to work. “N-no!”

Harry and Ron almost jump out of their skins, with the ginger boy reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“Was… was what you saw really bad?” he asks, and I shake my head, reaching up to my cheek with an unsteady hand. Wetness meets my fingertips, and I dab at my eyes. Am I… crying?! Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!

I tug my dressing-gown tighter around myself, I hunch over as the awful, familiar gray haze rolls in, wrapping around me like the thickest of fog. I can barely hear the boys calling to me, as I crouch down, wrapping my arms around my knees and tucking my head into myself. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no….

 

I don’t remember how we got back to the dorm, but, when I finally pull myself together enough to raise my head, we’re back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Mini frantically pawing at me and whining. Harry and Ron are engaged in a furious, whispered argument. I allow Mini to scramble up into the ball of misery I’ve become, and close up again. Her tiny, rough tongue hysterically lashes my face, and I breathe in shuddering gasps, barely able to keep from screaming.

Eventually, after almost a full day and night, from what I found out later, someone must have done something drastic.

A wrinkled, gentle hand lifts my head, Mini snapping at it protectively, and I’m face-to-face… with Professor Albus Dumbledore… the Headmaster. His half-moon spectacles glint in the firelight, and I can see my reflection, tear-streaked face and watery eyes, everything.

There’s an ancient, tender kindness in his eyes, as he gently lowers himself into the over-stuffed armchair nearest to me.

“That’s better… now; your friends are quite worried for you. Enough that they almost bowled poor Professor Flitwick over. They’ve spent the last several hours trying to break into my office to get me, you see. Chocolate?”

The timeworn headmaster produces, from somewhere in his robes, a bar of chocolate, wrapped in silver foil, and sealed with a wide band of gold-and-purple paper.

As I simply stare, unable to comprehend that I’m being offered sweets by one of the most renowned wizards in the world, he gestures to a steaming cup that just… appeared in front of me. “Tea?”

Wordlessly, I take the cup as he smiles, sipping from it as he precisely unwraps the chocolate, snapping it in half with a soft ‘crack!’ and handing me a piece.

“I must admit, I am quite troubled by your state, Maxine. Please, would you talk to me about it?”

I almost drop my cup as he casually uses my… my REAL name. “P-Professor-!”

He holds up a hand. “Please, allow me to explain. Young Ron and Harry have admitted to their little… infraction with the Mirror of Erised. That thing is surprisingly dangerous, despite not having any way to directly harm most. It simply… shows an individual’s truest and most desperate desires. The thing they long for most.”

He takes a sip of his own tea. “However, there are some the Mirror of Erised has driven into despair. Some have wasted away to nothing because they could not tear themselves away from it…  Your desire is not wrong, Maxine. You are not wrong, or unwelcome, in MY school. Your professors have nothing but praise for your hard work and talent.”

The Headmaster gestures at the chocolate in my hand, and I take a bite. It’s got bits of honeycomb mixed in, and I end up taking a few more small nibbles at it. His smile broadens as he leans forward in his chair.

“Now, I have…. A proposal for you. I’ve asked Professor Snape to assist me in this, and he has… agreed, as long as you continue your efforts as a student here, to brew a specific potion for you, as much as you need it.”

I swallow, drinking another mouthful of tea. “Wh-what… what potion, sir?”

His smile broadens into a full grin.

“Tell, me young witch… have you ever heard… of Polyjuice Potion?”

I shake my head, eyes wide. They only widen as the venerable professor explains.

“The Polyjuice Potion, which is a complex and time-consuming concoction, is best left to highly skilled witches and wizards. It enables the consumer to assume the physical appearance of another person, as long as they have first procured part of that individual's body to add to the brew. This may be anything, but it is most usual to use hair. The effect of the potion is only temporary, and depending on how well it has been brewed, may last anywhere from between ten minutes and twelve hours. You can change age, sex, and race by taking the Polyjuice Potion, but not species."

My bottom lip quivers, and I ask, “this potion… it’s being made… for me?”

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Dumbledore smiles. “It is. And, for as long as you are a student here, it will be provided. However, should you wish to make it a more permanent change, you should make sure to study Transfiguration. Particularly skilled witches and wizards have managed to irreversibly alter their bodies in ways they wished.”

I stare up at the wrinkled, long-bearded professor as he sips from his steaming cup, an almost… sly… grin on his wizened face.  He winks at me, and slowly stands. “I’ll make sure you receive your first dose of Polyjuice Potion as soon as it’s ready, in... oh, about three weeks or so. Do you have any hair you’d like to use?”

I shake my head. “I… I think I should discuss it with Hermione or someone who knows this subject better than me.”

Dumbledore nods. “I understand. Well, we’ll make preparations, and, once you’re more like yourself, you can begin attending class properly. If any students ask or harass you about your situation, direct them to speak with me about it. I’ll make sure they understand that there is nothing they need to concern themselves with.”

I simply stare in awe as the august Headmaster inclines his head politely, before turning and strolling out of the common room. As soon as he’s gone, Harry, Ron, Angelina, and what seems like everyone else left here for the holidays boils into the room, all staring and whispering  amongst themselves as my friends start elbowing and shushing fiercely. Mini suffers the excitement for a few minutes, before letting out an ear-splitting cacophony of barking shrieks.

 The whispered conference breaks apart into complaints about my familiar kicking up a ruckus, when I wipe my face and look each and every Gryffindor student in the eyes. “Hey, you were all whispering about me. You could have just asked me instead, that’s why Mini got annoyed.”

Mini huffs triumphantly, standing on my knees like a little guardian, her tail held ramrod stiff. A few guilty expressions flicker over various faces in the crowd. Finally, Angelina Johnson steps forward, taking the seat that Dumbledore recently vacated.

“Look, while a few of us may have an inkling of what’s going on, did whatever Professor Dumbledore do… did it help?” she reaches out and takes one of my hands, Mini sniffing protectively at the older girls’ fingers.

I nod slowly. “Yes… he’s arranged a solution for me. But, I’m… going to need some hair…”

Angelina’s eyes widen, and she breathes, “Polyjuice… genius!”

Harry and Ron finally get everyone to back off and start going about their own business, before bounding over and surrounding me.

“Sorry, mate, but we didn’t know what else to do,” Ron begins. He looks pale, as if he hasn’t eaten or slept during my crippling dysphoric attack. Harry’s in much the same condition, his eyes underscored by dark bags.

I sniffle a little, “I’m sorry… it’s my fault, I should have told you, but-“

Harry shakes his head fiercely. “NO. It’s my fault. I should’ve realised that something that shows the thing you want most would do something like that. My parents are one thing, but you’ve got an entirely different set of problems to deal with. I made you break down, and I’m so, so, sorry, Maxine…” he looks so disconsolate that I can’t help but stand up, Mini leaping agilely to the floor, and give him a hug.

He stiffens for a moment, and then hugs back. I calmly murmur, “No, it isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, so don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m… better now, better than I ever have been before. Dumbledore is… he’s going to help me transition!”

Harry gasps, and I turn to hug Ron as well. “It’s all okay now. The Professor is getting me something to help me, and he said it won’t be long until it’s ready!”

Angelina smirks. “That’s awesome, Maxine! I’ll help in any way I can! In fact, let me…” she forages for a quill, inkwell, and a piece of parchment, frantically scribbling something on it, using her knee as a writing rest.

Once finished, she folds it, shoves it into an envelope, and dashes out of the room, shouting something about, “if you need me, I’ll be at the Owlery!” Harry, Ron and I look at each other, and then burst out laughing. A few students give us weird looks, but I don’t care. Chatting leisurely, the three of us head down to the Great Hall for dinner, my familiar trotting at my heels. Despite the two full days of starvation, I don’t feel super hungry, but it’s still better to eat than to skip another meal. Chocolate isn’t really enough to satisfy, after all.

 

After dinner, Angelina catches up as she heads past us to eat, her face alight as she beams at me. “Well, I sent that letter to update Hermione about the situation. She’ll be able to help us, yeah?”

I splutter a little, nodding. If anyone can help us, it’s the brainy brunette. She’s easily smarter than I am, after all, and she WAS the first person to know about me. I give the older girl a quick embrace, and she chuckles, hugging me back.

“I’m glad that you’re doing better. You look way more alive now!”

I blush a faint pink, and Mini scrabbles up my leg, ensconcing herself in the crook of my arm, burrowing into my robes and curling her tail around her paws as she chirps sleepily.

Harry shifts a little, and I give him a look. “You want to go back to that horrible mirror, don’t you? Well, as long as you NEVER invite me to go looking again, you can do what you like.” I smile, rubbing my fingertips between Mini’s huge ears. Harry shoots me a grateful glance, and ducks out of sight behind a pillar.  I wink at Angelina, who looks confounded, but in the “I’m about to burst out laughing because I have no context” way.

 

 

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