CW: Dysphoria


Hermione met Lupin for tea the next weekend in the afternoon at his direct invitation. She took Blaise along with her as her Official Blackmail Advisor, a title he had come up with and a role he was taking great enjoyment in. He was still highly amused that she had managed to send a letter intimating blackmail to a teacher without entirely realizing all of its implications, and Hermione suspected he'd never let her live it down.

"Remember, don't openly acknowledge that you're blackmailing him," Blaise reminded her on the way to his office. "Subtly walking around it is much more unnerving and threatening than blatantly bringing it up."

"I know, Blaise," Hermione said, annoyed, and Blaise laughed.

"I know you know," he said, smirking, "but watch you forget it minutes after we walk through that door."

Hermione shot him a dark look and knocked smartly on the door, waiting for Lupin's call of "Come in!" before pushing open the door.

Lupin's office was very bare compared to the offices of other professors. There was a grindylow in a large tank of water in the corner, and an old, battered bookshelf with a few tomes on it. His desk looked old and scarred, wood scraped in places, and it was telling that his tea set was one from the Hogwarts kitchens, and not one of his own.

"Miss Granger," Lupin said pleasantly, his eyebrows rising. "And Mister Zabini. What an unexpected pleasure."

"I thought I'd bring him along with me," Hermione said casually, pulling over a wooden chair to in front of Lupin's desk. Lupin's expression darkened slightly, while Blaise just smirked.

"Very well," Lupin said, after a moment. "How do you take your tea?"

Lupin poured tea for each of them, and then proceeded to engage them in extremely mundane small talk conversation over the course of ten minutes. He asked them about their classes, which ones they enjoyed and which ones they did not, and he did a fair job of seeming genuinely interested in their answers.

Hermione went off on a tangent at one point explaining about what they were learning in Arithmancy, before she caught herself and flushed. Blaise smirked as she cut herself off with her tea, before lowering her cup back to her saucer and looking to Lupin.

"And what about you, Professor?" she asked. "What has been new with you?"

An expression of faint amusement came to his face.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that your little letter-writing campaign worked," he told her wryly. "I'm forbidden from demonstrating boggarts in the future in a group setting, only one-on-one with individual students."

"Wait, really?" Hermione sat up straight. "I didn't hear about that!"

"Oh, yes," Lupin said, nodding. "It isn't every day that each member of the Board of Governors gets twenty handwritten letters from upset and distraught students. Two of them were demanding I be sacked for the trauma I put you all through; Dumbledore managed to negotiate safety and privacy stipulations to be followed in the future instead."

"That's excellent!" Hermione beamed at Blaise, who rolled his eyes and smirked. "I mean, a bit too late for us, but good for the future, right?"

"I am very sorry about that," Lupin said, suddenly turning serious. He turned his eyes on Hermione. "I should have listened to you when you raised your concern initially. I fear I vastly underestimated the demons that haunted people your age."

His eyes were piercing, and both Blaise and Hermione took refuge in their teacups, not making eye contact. Lupin continued to look at them intensely, though, and Hermione eventually responded, not wanting to make Blaise have to acknowledge what he'd seen in the boggart.

"To be fair, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs probably lured you into a false state of security," Hermione offered, managing a quirked smile. "Nuclear war was probably not on your mental list of possibilities."

To her surprise, Lupin groaned, leaning back in his chair.

"Merlin alive, what a nightmare," he said. "Professor Sprout and I had to sit down with the Hufflepuffs one evening and have a very long conversation about why they should not send concerned letters to the International Confederation of Wizards." He made a face. "Professor McGonagall interrupted no less than three daring plots to try and infiltrate muggle military facilities and steal their bombs from her Gryffindors. Stealing bombs!"

Hermione was trying very hard not to laugh.

Lupin shook his head. "Honestly, I was grateful when I got angry and worried letters from Ravenclaw parents. At least I knew how to handle that." He looked up at them, pausing. "I didn't get any angry letters from Slytherin parents, though – just those on the Board of Governors."

"Did you really think Slytherin parents would disapprove?" Blaise asked conversationally. "You spread hatred and fear of muggles, no matter how unintentionally. I should think they'd sooner thank you than be upset with you over the whole thing."

An uncomfortable look crossed Lupin's face, and Hermione opted to change the topic of conversation.

"So!" she said brightly. "I heard you were sick last week. I'm glad you're doing better now, professor."

Both Blaise and Lupin leveled a flat look at her, which had Hermione wincing.

"What?" she said, defensive. "That's a perfectly natural thing—"

Blaise groaned. "What happened to being subtle, Hermione?"

"I didn't say anything! I just expressed that I'm glad—"

"Yes, well." Professor Lupin looked like he was trying very hard to suppress his amusement. "Thank you for your well wishes, Miss Granger. I've been doing much better lately."

Hermione shot Blaise a look, who rolled his eyes and stuffed a biscuit into his mouth instead of bothering to respond.

"But it does bring up an interesting topic," Lupin continued. He raised an eyebrow. "As you may know, my condition is… a reoccurring one. And I'd prefer my medical history not be made public for the school to know."

"Understandable," Hermione said. "It'd really be an excellent way to get lots of angry parents flooding you with owls."

"As such," he said, looking at them both, "I would prefer it if you did not spread word of my condition amongst your peers."

Blaise snorted. "Better check with Snape on that one first."

"Oh, Professor Snape has been spoken to." A dark expression crossed Lupin's face. "Professor Dumbledore had a long conversation with him, including reviewing certain parts of his contract and confidentiality clauses."

Hermione exchanged a look with Blaise as Lupin added, "Thank you for the note on that, by the way."

"You're welcome," Hermione said.

Lupin looked at her blankly, while Hermione looked back at him from over her teacup.

"This is the part where you agree to not share Lupin's medical history if he agrees to do something for you," Blaise said drolly, smirking over his cup.

"Oh! Right," Hermione said, setting down her cup. "I am sure we can keep your medical history quiet, Professor Lupin, if you would be willing to answer some questions for me about your condition. And possibly touch some runes."

Lupin frowned. "…I beg your pardon?"

"I want you to tell me things about your condition," Hermione repeated. "I have a lot of questions, and it's not exactly easy to find someone with your condition willing to discuss the finer details of living with it."

"Why?" Lupin's surprise was plain.

"Does it really matter?" Hermione made a frustrated noise. "I won't tell anyone you're a werewolf if you answer questions about what it's like to be a werewolf for me. That seems fair to me."

"Hermione," Blaise chided.

Hermione gave him a look, which he returned right back. Hermione took a deep breath, calming herself.

"I'm curious about how the wizarding world treats people with your condition in general," she said carefully. "I'm curious about what discrimination you receive, what programs are available to you, and what precautions are generally taken during intense times of illness, et cetera. I'm also curious if you would have a reaction to certain magical objects."

Lupin's eyebrow went up.

"I'm… sure I would be willing to answer some questions," Lupin said cautiously. "Not deeply personal things, but I'm sure I could help with other inquiries in exchange for your discretion."

Hermione smiled. "Excellent."


Hermione received an unexpected note one morning before classes began.

Miss Granger,

There have been recent new developments in the burden you have tasked me with.

Please come to my office at 7pm tonight, sharp.

- Prof. Snape

Hermione blinked.

What burden?

A thought occurred to her suddenly – did that mean he had managed to sell some of the basilisk parts? Was she going to need to negotiate with a buyer?

Hermione felt a thrill of excitement at the thought. It seemed very adult, to be expected to negotiate one's own business contracts. And Snape seemed to have faith in her doing it herself, so much so that he had gone ahead and set up a meeting already.

After classes and dinner, Hermione went back to her dormitory and changed into fancier, more adult-cut robes than the dark green cotton ones she generally preferred to relax in. These ones were a sweeping emerald green velvet, and Hermione carefully smoothed out her hair out until it shone.

When she knocked smartly on Snape's office door at seven o'clock, she was very surprised to see not Professor Snape open the door.

"Professor Vector?" she said, blinking. "What are you doing here?"

"Opening the door." Professor Vector seemed amused. "Come in, Hermione. Follow me."

Somewhat confused, Hermione turned to follow Professor Vector, who closed the office door. Professor Vector led her through an unexpected dark archway in the wall that seemed like it had been hidden behind a set of shelves, and Hermione blinked as she walked through it, black mist briefly clouding her eyes.

On the other side was what looked like a private potions laboratory. It was well-stocked, very clean, and had several potions in the back simmering on small fires – not dissimilar to when she and Theo had made Polyjuice Potion, Hermione mused.

Snape stood at the front of the room, leaning over a cauldron with a long silver stirring rod in his hand. Next to him was Amanda Barrows, who seemed like she was desperately trying to stand still but kept dancing slightly in place excitedly. Upon Professor Vector and Hermione's entrance, both of them looked up.

"Miss Granger," Snape said. "So good of you to join us."

The sarcasm dripped from his tone. Hermione thought it was rather uncalled for, really, when he had been the one to send for her.

"Of course," Hermione said, stepping closer. She looked into the potion Snape was attending. "What's this?"

"Your special potion," Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "Have you forgotten already?"

"It's going to stop me from growing breasts!" Amanda burst out. She beamed in excitement. "I'll have to take it every day, but it'll help me turn into a boy instead of a girl!"

"It will?" Hermione looked to Snape, excited herself. "Really? You did it?"

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Snape sneered. He gave her a grudging look. "Your little forbidden recipe book gave a fair starting point. Professor Vector helped predict the most optimal revisions to the recipe. It was a simple matter of trial and error and adaptation from there."

Hermione grinned at Amanda, who was bouncing in excitement.

"Amanda asked that you come here to help with the next part, Hermione," Professor Vector said. She stood at the far end of the potions bench, watching them all warily as if anticipating an explosion. "We have discussed how this potion will help reverse the… curse's… effects on her, and we have been discussing how best to smoothly transition her from a girl to a boy."

Hermione blinked.

"Umm," she said. "Is there... not... like... a set protocol for this?"

"Most people with Amanda's 'curse'," Professor Vector said dryly, "tend to receive treatment as an adult. Generally after graduation, and far away. This is a new situation."

"Oh." That made sense, in a sad sort of way. "I'll help however I can," Hermione said, meaning it.

"Good." Professor Vector gave Hermione a very direct look. "Amanda's classmates are going to notice things. She will be starting on a course of potion treatment – one to help promote long bones and increase adult height, one to promote testosterone, and an injection every few months."

"An injection?" Hermione was surprised. "I've never heard of an injectable potion before."

"That's because it's not a potion," Snape said curtly. "Professor Vector's calculations determined that it was much safer and easier to simply procure a progestin than try to formulate one via magic."

"A... a 'progestin'?" Hermione repeated, blinking. Snape rolled his eyes.

"We're getting a medication from a muggle chemist that will stop her menses," he snapped.

"Oh!" Hermione said. "Oh. I didn't know you could do that." She looked at Amanda. "That's good, right? That's what you want?"

"Very good," Amada agreed, nodding her head rapidly. "Boys don't get a cycle."

"These potions will cause some apparent physical changes rather quickly," Professor Vector said, folding her arms. "Amanda has asked for your help, Hermione, in explaining this to her classmates."

"Wait, what?" Hermione turned to Amanda, surprised. "Me?"

"Yes," Amanda said, nodding.

"Why?" Hermione was confused. "If you need someone to explain this to everyone, surely your Head of House—"

Amanda's eyes flashed.

"Flitwick didn't notice or care that I was sleeping on the couches," Amanda said flatly. "You noticed. And you did something about it – you helped figure out what was wrong, and you helped me find a solution."

"I'm not a teacher, though," Hermione pointed out. "I'm not an authority figure that people are likely to listen to like a Professor."

"So?" Amanda said cynically. "It's not like students trust the official line the professors give us, anyway. You, though – you can still come with me and tell everyone that my family was cursed, and that you're helping me break the curse. You're New Blood – the Ravenclaws already expect you to pull off groundbreaking magic. It'll be fine."

Hermione caught Professor Vector shoot a quizzical look at Snape, who shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"I… if you're sure that's what you want," Hermione said slowly. "You want me to just announce this to your common room?"

"Yes," Amanda said firmly. "And answer questions, if people have any. You know more about it than me."

Though Amanda probably meant 'explain the Dark curse on me', Hermione took that to mean 'make up stuff about Dark magic as necessary to fill in the holes'. Hermione wasn't exactly comfortable making up details about possible Dark magic, but she knew enough to be able to do so and trick most Ravenclaws, she imagined.

"When?" she asked, looking at Amanda.

Amanda looked at Snape, who scoffed.

"The potion's done," he said. "You can begin the potion course immediately."

"It's up to you," Professor Vector told her gently. "It will take some time for the effects to become evident, so you have time to prepare – decide what you want to be called, buy new clothes, cut your hair."

Amanda bit her lip and nodded.

"Manny," she said. "I want to be called Manny. It's kind of like what my parents call me, but for a boy?"

'Mandy' to 'Manny' was a small adjustment to make, Hermione noted. Hopefully it would be enough to help and be different.

"Short for Emmanuel or Manfred?" Professor Vector asked. "Manny is a nickname."

Amanda looked anxious again.

"Manfred?" she said. "Is that okay? That one sounds more like a boy's name – I've never heard of the other one."

"It's your name," Professor Vector said again, patient. "You get to choose what you want it to be. You can take your time with this, as much time as you need."

But Amanda was nodding already.

"Manfred Barrows," she said, determined. "I like it. That's a strong name. That's a name of a son my father can be proud of."

Hermione's eyes went wide. She'd forgotten that Amanda would need to tell her parents eventually. Should she tell them first? Or present it as a fait accompli later, after it had already been done?

Thinking about it, she was kind of surprised neither Professor Snape nor Professor Vector had seemed to think informing her parents necessary. She wondered if they had had poor homelives as children themselves, or if they simply didn't think it was any of her parents' business.

"Can we do it on Thursday night?" Amanda asked. "That's when the N.E.W.T. class has Astronomy, so a lot of people are still up in the common room Thursday nights."

"Um. That's fine with me," Hermione said.

Amanda turned to Professor Vector.

"Can we get clothes and things on Thursday, then?" she asked. "And—and cut my hair?"

"We can get clothes tomorrow evening, and then cut your hair on Thursday after classes," Professor Vector assured her.

"We'll need to tell all your teachers," Hermione said, realizing. "The last thing we need is—"

"Professor Snape and I will take care of the staff," Professor Vector cut in. She looked at Amanda. "Starting on Friday morning, then, all of your teachers will call you 'Manfred' or 'Manny', and use 'he' and 'him' and 'his' when talking about you."

"Okay." Amanda looked nervous, but she nodded decisively. "Thursday night, then. That's when – that's when I'll become a boy."

Professor Vector looked very much like she wanted to say something, but she held back. Instead, Hermione offered Amanda a smile and opened her arms, and Amanda flew into her arms for a hug.

"Do boys hug girls?" she asked, her face buried in Hermione's robes. "I don't know how to be a boy, really."

"We'll figure it out," Hermione reassured her. "You're smart; you'll catch on quickly. Don't forget – you're meant to be a boy. It'll probably come more naturally to you than being a girl did."

She offered Amanda a smile, who smiled tremulously back.

"And," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling, "I don't know about the hugs, but if you don't tell anyone, I won't either."