Millicent Bulstrode stands in her room, gazing into the mirror that hangs on the back of the door. Bright green robes drown her slight frame, making her look as if she's wearing a sack. As she studies herself, she pulls her hair back into a tight pony tail and eyes her cheekbones. Deciding that she likes how it looks, she ties it back with a black elastic.

Just as she finishes, her mother enters the room, dismayed to find that she still isn't ready. "Millie, dear, what are you doing in your brother's robes? What happened to the pretty pink ones I picked out for you?"

"I don't know, mummy. I lost them," Millie says, refusing to make eye contact. She glances at her mattress nervously and kicks at the carpet.

Her mother catches her staring at her bed and sighs. "You haven't been hiding your clothing again, have you?"

"No, mummy. The robes are lost."

More awkward glances towards the opposite side of the room confirm her mother's suspicions. "So if I call Tinka in here right now, he won't find them?"

Millicent shakes her head and stares intently at the ground.

"Fine then. Tinka," her mother calls.

With a pop, a house elf appears in Millicent's bedroom. "Yes, mistress."

"My daughter seems to have misplaced her pink dress robes. I would like you to find them."

"Yes, mistress," the elf squeaks a second time as he sets about searching the room. Millicent watches nervously as he checks the closet and her armoire. He investigates her toy chest, but finds it empty. He looks behind her bookshelf and then under her bed, barely pausing to notice that she has stopped breathing entirely.

Pausing for a moment, the elf scans the room looking for places he might've missed. "Mistress, it looks as though…" he starts, pausing as he notices a small piece of pink fabric hanging out from under the mattress. Gently, he tugs at it revealing a set of garish robes. "Here it is, Mistress."

"Thank you, Tinka. Please, take those downstairs and iron them. The party guests will be arriving shortly and I can't have Millicent looking as if she's slept in her robes."

"Right away, Mistress," the house elf says, disappearing with a pop.

"Millie, why were you hiding your robes again?" her mother asks in a stern tone.

Staring at the ground, Millicent tries to think of a way to answer without making her mother mad, but the words escape her. "I don't know," she mutters.

Her mother frowns at the response. "How can you not know? That's the third time this week. What's wrong with them?"

"I don't like them," Millicent says, her voice trembling as she speaks. She knows her mother won't like her answer, but she can't think of anything better to say and besides, it is the truth.

"What don't you like about them?" her mother inquires, trying to hide her impatience.

Millicent shrugs. Her mother is making her angry face and she knows that means she should stop talking.

"Tell me the truth. Why don't you like the robes?"

"I don't like the color pink," she whispers, hoping that if she speaks quietly enough her mother might not hear her.

Her mother's mouth stretches into a thin line and her brows knit into deep ridges. "And what color would you prefer to wear?"

"Green," she says.

For a moment, she thinks her mother might just say okay and let her wear her brother's robes, but as soon as she starts to speak, it becomes clear that that isn't the case. "Green is for boys," she says in a tone that implies that there will be no further discussion of the matter.

A second later, Tinka returns with freshly pressed pink robes and hands them to her mother.

"I won't wear them," Millicent argues, stamping her foot in frustration. "I hate pink and those ruffles look stupid!"

"Don't you dare get smart with me, young lady. You are going to put these robes on whether you like it or not," her mother demands, taking an ominous step closer to her daughter. "Keep resisting and I will petrify you and put them on you myself. Now, you have five minutes to be dressed and ready downstairs to greet your guests. If I have to come back up here and get you, you're going to regret it."

Her mother turns to walk out of the door, but stops short. "And take your hair out of that hideous ponytail. You look much more ladylike with your hair down."

As her mother leaves, Millicent does as she is told, changing quickly into the pink robes she hates so fiercely and removing the elastic from her long hair. She looks in the mirror briefly before leaving the room and barely recognizes herself. It is as if a distant cousin stares back at her. Someone vaguely familiar, but at the same time almost unrecognizable.

Hi there!

This story was originally posted on HPFF for The Non-Cisgender Challenge. The story spans 5 chapters and each chapter deals with a different moment in Millicent's life. This is my first time writing a Non-Cisgender character, so if anything stands out to you as inaccurate or you have any suggestions on how to make it better, please let me know in a review below.

Thank you as always for reading!

~Kaitlin/TreacleTart