Whole story updated 2022: Alright! This has been long overdue for an overhaul (in that it's been haunting me ever since I posted the last chapter seven years ago) it does now have fewer chapters but is more coherent and the chapters are longer overall - the shortest is just over 100 words but the longest is over 1000 and it's mostly filler that's been cut away.

I don't own any of the characters or trademarks used, and I DON'T advocate for or approve of JKRs views on transgender people. (Or, presumably, the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community, but I don't know what else she's said as I checked out a while ago. Death of the author and all that.)


He runs and runs as hard as he can, faster and further than ever before, he run until the cover of night fades away and he is huge, even emaciated, and he is obvious and he knows he must hide.

He knows nothing except that he must hide, that he must get away. There are voices in his mind that say to go north, to go west, to hide, to sleep, to kill, to hunt, to go home, to curl up and die with the sun on his face; that that is the most he can hope for and so much more than he deserves.

Nothing in his mind is capable of telling him his name. Some quiet corner says that he is human, that he is person but he knows that it is lying. He knows that being person hurts, and will inevitably destroy him. He knows that he has to find Harry, or is it James, or Peter? There is somebody he has to find and kill, or is it protect? And it is the most important thing in the world.

He doesn't know where he is or who he is or which way is north. Where is he going? Why is he here? What is so urgent, and why should he not become person again, even if it makes the memories return?

He feels the sunrise on his face and conceals himself in a bush. He cannot be seen.