A Box in the Snow

WHAM!

A crash rang through the quiet village, not that the villagers found anything unusual by it. There were often many odd noises and goings-on that they went on about their evening routines.

"Blimey." A rough, confused voice came from the blue box that just landed, rather less than gracefully, in a snow bank. "Where've I ended up now?"

The door opened and the unexpected visitor clambered out to have a look around, coming face to face with a long silver beard and the most piercing, dazzlingly blue eyes peering over the top of a pair of half-moon spectacles. "Well, I must say, that was quite an entrance." His voice was gentle, without the slightest hint of surprise. "Might I ask who you are?"

"Er... John... John Smith," said the visitor.

The man with bright blue eyes was smiling at this tourist with polite curiosity. "I am Albus Dumbledore. How nice to meet a new face. However I must say, and please forgive me if I much mistaken, but you look nothing like any John I've ever met. And I quite assure you, I've met a fair few in my time." John Smith, looking alarmed, bolted back into the blue box. "What? Oh blimey! I forgot!"

Upon finding a mirror, Smith was met with a very new, very unfamiliar face. "Well, that explains the voice." A woman was staring back through the glass. She inspected herself as though she'd never seen her reflection before. She was thin, but not peaky looking; she had curves in all the proper places and none where she shouldn't. Aside from being a woman, the first thing she noticed was her long, sleek hair. It was deeper and blacker than a raven's feathers. She was still wearing a white button up with a dark blue cardigan. The men's trousers she had on were rather loose fitting. She'd certainly have to find something else to wear. Smith moved closer to the mirror. She found she had rather soft features; she likened her new appearance to Fay Wray with no complaints. If she was going to be a woman, she might as well look fabulous. Her almond eyes were dark, deep violet with what seemed to be flecks of silver. Silver... "OH!" Smith darted back outside having completely forgotten about the old man waiting.

"Ah, John. Nice to see you again. I was starting to worry. I trust everything is well?" Dumbledore was standing in the same place as before, looking politely intrigued.

She stopped before him, rocking back and forth with the excess energy that was building up. "Oh, yes. Well, I won't pretend I'm not disappointed I'm not a ginger, yet again. But it might be a nice change of pace being a woman. And under the circumstances, perhaps Josephine might be a better name? You can call me Jo. Now, if you please, where am I?"

"My dear woman," Dumbledore gave a slight chuckle. This was perhaps the oddest thing to happen in recent years. "You are in Hogsmeade Village. There's a rather delightful pub up the way, if you'd like to join me for a glass of mead? Or perhaps a large brandy?"

Jo nodded with a smile and the two started to walk toward their long awaited nightcap. Dumbledore asked as they walked "What about your box? Will it be quite all right?"

"Well, she'll need to rebuild herself. She'll stay locked until she's done. I reckon she'll be just fine."